The Walking Dead

21 year old Holly Jacobs and her big brother Logan find themselves in the midst of the zombie apocalypse. With almost no hope of survival, the siblings come upon a thriving civilization of survivors, lead by a former sheriff by the name of Rick Grimes. Will Holly and Logan find hope with this group? Or will they be torn to pieces?


1. Hopeless

"Logan, we passed this same tree half an hour ago." I looked at my big brother with concern. I was beginning to feel like we were walking in circles. 

"How would you know?" He shot me an irritated look. "All the trees look the same." 

I watched as he bent down and took off his backpack. He reached into the front pocket and took out a half filled bottle of water. 

"Thirsty?" He held the bottle up to me.

I nodded and grabbed it from him. I took just a sip. I had to be sure not to drink too much. We were low on supplies, including water. That bottle was all we had left. 

Even though I was nowhere near satisfied with the sip of water I took, I handed it back to him. I watched as he put it back in his bag. 

"Aren't you going to have some?" I asked, shocked that he didn't drink any.

"I'm fine," he replied without even looking at me. I learned not to argue with him about things like that.

Logan stood back up and looked to the sky. "It's getting dark, Holly."

"Any idea where we will be staying tonight?" I asked. 

"Let's just keep going."

I followed my brother as we walked down the street towards a cluster of buildings we could see about a mile down the road. We were on the outskirts of our hometown of Atlanta. We grew up in the city but when things got bad, we had to move further out. 

Unfortunately, we were beginning to hit on territory we were not familiar with. 

As we walked, I couldn't help but look at my brother and think about how he was all I had left. My parents were gone in an instant. If anything happened to Logan, I don't know what I would do. 

He turned around to glance at me. Every once in a while he would check to make sure I was still there. He was very protective of me. 

We reached a street light that sat at the corner of the road. Behind it was a little pub with the word Shelly's hung on the front. Some of the letters' lights had burnt out, and a few were flickering. 

"Remember this street light, Holly." My brother advised me. "Then we can find our way back if we have to." 

The two of us walked up the front porch of the pub. I peered through the window and although it was dark, I could tell that it was empty. 

Empty... except for one walker. 

Walkers, we called them. The dead people we mean. The flesh eating monsters that were once normal people. 

Just one walker didn't scare us. They were more dangerous in groups. But I could hear the moans from outside the door. 

Logan peered in the other window and noticed the same walker I did. 

"Stay here, Holly. I got this," he ordered me. 

I didn't say anything but we both knew that I wasn't going to stay. I reached into my backpack and pulled out a baseball bat. Logan pulled out a golf club. Our father was into sports. I guess now it's coming in handy. 

I watched as my brother slowly reached for the door knob. He gently turned it and pushed the door open just wide enough for us to slip in.

Once inside, I gently shut the door behind me. We then realized that the pub was darker than we anticipated. I pulled out a flashlight and shone it in front of us. 

We began to slowly creep towards the bar. Behind the counter was the walker, facing the wall. The bartender I would imagine. 

It hadn't seen or heard us yet so we were at an advantage. I watched as Logan crept closer to it and raised his club to swing. He hit the walker square in the back. 

It took the blow and fell to the ground.

Still alive.

Logan prepared to swing again, but this time, he targeted the walker's head.


I stared down at it in disgust. It was laying face down on the ground with a bloody gash on the side of its head. I was used to seeing those sights, but it still bothered me. 

Logan stared at the dead walker for a moment, but then grabbed both of its arms and started dragging it away from the bar. He dragged it into the restroom and closed the door on it. I watched as he started surveying the rest of the pub to be sure the walker didn't have any friends.

When he finally came back to me, I had already started setting up camp. I had laid out the blanket I had for the both of us, and began looking for something to use as pillows.

When Logan realized what I was doing, he began to help me. He noticed something in the back of the pub, and started walking towards a broken ottoman. He came back with the remains of the cushion and placed it above the blanket. 

We took our backpacks off and put them closely beside us. Everything we owned was in there. There was no losing them. 

We only had the clothes we were wearing, so my skinny jeans and white tank top served as my pajamas. Logan slept in his baggy jeans and green t-shirt.  

We laid on top of the blanket and rested our heads on the cushions. Wasn't the most comfortable sleeping arrangement, but we have had much worse. 

I laid on my back and stared at the ceiling. 



"Do you think there are other people out there? Besides us, I mean." I asked my brother. 

There was a long pause before his answer. 

"I don't know, Holls. Maybe." I heard him turn over on his side which was code for I don't wanna talk. I took the hint and turned to face the other direction. 

I knew there had to be other people out there. 


Somewhere we can thrive. And be safe. And not have to worry about food, or shelter, or whether or not we would be torn to pieces in our sleep. 

And I was going to find it.




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