Blood and Ash

James Kiely has one messed up excuse of a love life. He wakes up one morning next to the reason for it, and suddenly realises life has taken a turn for the better. Unfortunately, he picked the worst morning ever to wake up after sleeping with his best friend.
He picked the apocalypse. This is my entry for the gaming fan fiction contest on the grounds that it is based on The Walking Dead PC game, which I love. Although I have decided to set it in another country, somewhere far away, so I have some of my own credibility. I wanted to write myself a lovely little story, a romcom, but also decided to mix it up somewhat. Unfortunately it isn't easy to do that, so I hope it works out. If it does, I'll ask Movellas to introduce Zombie Apocalypse Romcoms to the categories list.

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2. Riots

Amy struggled to keep up with his fast pace, and the gun in her hand felt alien, out of place. Why did she have a gun?

James picked his up out of the holster as they rounded a corner and headed toward the town centre. She could smell the smoke, and feel it burning her eyes. As she looked up, James lifted his gun to shoulder height and fired a shot.

Amy screamed.

The gunshots were still loud, even with a silencer, and the bloodstain on the wall opposite only made it worse. In fact, Amy screamed at that for a good five seconds before she noticed the man in front of it, who now had a large hole in his skull that blood was spurting out of in pulses of crimson. Amy saw that, and then screamed some more. It actually took Amy almost a minute to stop screaming, by which point James had dumped the body in a wheelie bin opposite. His hands were now caked with arterial blood, which had the effect of making Amy feel light-headed. Severely.

This was not only now too much for Amy, but it was quite a way past that point. She felt on the verge of a mental breakdown, which wasn't far off the reality, and James Kiely, the guy she had known most of her life, now had three weapons and blood up his arm, and had just killed a man in cold blood, running into a riot.

"Amy, we need to move!"

She hesitated, but reckoned that the time for asking questions and sorting out this morning was when things had settled down a bit. "Okay."

James was starting to regret taking her with him. It was becoming quite annoying, having to deal with the repercussions of her constant screaming. He was trying to just remember his training and get what needed to be done done, but she kept drawing the attention of whatever he kept shooting.

They ran round a corner, and then made a left through a surprisingly deserted street and into an alleyway. Amy didn't recognise this. James clearly did. He was scanning the doors, looking for something. Eventually he found it, and with neither a second thought nor a warning to Amy, kicked it in.

Dust clouds filled the air, catching onto an unnoticed draft and being carried into the inky darkness, closely followed by James' figure. Caught on the wind were the words "stay there, I got this", with Amy was only too happy to oblige to.

Two more gunshots and a short rustle later, James emerged with a large bin bag, stuffed to the top.

"What's in there?" Amy asked.

"Groceries," he replied. "Canned food. Enough for about a year or so."

"Who did you shoot?" Amy didn't want to ask, but she felt compelled to.

"The shopkeepers and a man with a large weapon."

"But that makes three. there were only two shots..."

James slipped the large, ten-inch Wolfsbane knife he was holding into his left holster. Immediately, images of gore Amy would have preferred not to have imagined were brought to mind. But before she could even get as far as panicking, James was back past her, and heading further down the gloomy underpass.

After about a minute of half-jogging down the alley, under a bridge and round a corner, they came to the epicentre of the unfolding chaos. Amy winced at the thought of James committing more sporadic murders, and in the time she had taken to do that he had bolted across the street, narrowly avoiding what appeared to be a petrol bomb. She had nothing more to do than follow him, and trying not to think what awaited her on the other side, ran out.

The chaos was epic.

A scene of pandemonium only added to by the vast quantity of smoke clouds, strangled screams and scorched buildings unfolded before her eyes. People were beating their fellows to death with stones, and shooting them, too. One man was attacking a bin, clawing it with his nails and ripping his skin.

Something found flesh on Amy's side. She screamed, and whipped around, flailing her arms maniacally towards the source of the grip.

A grey, wrinkled face with matted hair and mottled grey eyes greeted her. She screamed again.

A gunshot.

She screamed once more.

A hand reached towards her face, but then there was another gunshot, much closer than the others, which took the enemy by surprise. Took the enemy by surprise in such a way as half his head was blown onto the nearest wall.

Amy turned to see the image of her accomplice, framed against a smouldering building and holding his carbine out in front of him. The weapon itself was smoking,  a steady flow out of one end. He reloaded the weapon theatrically, quickly checked his weapon, then ran over to Amy. On the verge of passing out, she lay slumped against a postbox.

"You need something to drink," he said.

"Great, what have you got?"

"This." He held out a small container with a clear liquid inside. She took it, gratefully, and downed the whole lot in one go. The canister was deposited on the road with all the grace of an elephant, and she lay back, exhausted.

"That water tasted funny," she remarked.

James only laughed.

The world turned upside down for a few seconds. Amy started at this, and went to stand up and right herself. A reassuring but forceful hand kept her down.

A whisper in her ear told her everything was going to be okay.

She blacked out.

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