Untitled - As Of Yet

The story of how the zombie apocalypse comes to a small Northern England town and how two women from different lives have to learn to work together to survive.

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1. Chapter 1

A deafening, high-pitched whistle filled her ears as she backed, shakily into the pantry. A dark puddle started to seep under the door and the banging stopped.

 

The time of morning when the house is quiet, the traffic on the main road hasn’t picked up yet and all you can hear is the gentle ticking of the central heating was Amy’s favourite time of day. She would have to start her daily to-do list soon, but first she would just enjoy this small slice of peace. Opening the cupboard she grabbed a couple of the pods she used in her coffee machine, and started it up. The sounds of boiling water and foaming milk were comforting and came with the promise of caffeine. Amy would need caffeine today, she had to clean the house, go food shopping and she booked in a personal training session at the gym. Glancing up at the clock, she pulled another mug from the cupboard. Her husband, Chris would be home any minute now and a brew would be a welcome sight for him. He worked nights as security at a local mill and Amy would only see him for half an hour or so before he would take himself upstairs to bed. Cupping her hands round her own mug Amy padded over to the kitchen window in her slippered feet and looked out to the garden. The lawn was covered in orange and red leaves, dry and crispy for now, but the rain was inevitable, this was Northern England after all.

As the coffee machine stopped hissing after finishing Chris’ coffee, Amy heard a sharp cry from the front of the house. Frowning, she stepped toward the hall as another cried out. Before she could take another step however the front door swung open, her husband came flying in, pushing the door closed behind him and leaning against it. He was panting and shiny with sweat.

“Chris?” Amy started toward him, but he rushed toward her, hands raised, shaking his head.

“No, stay away from the door,” He panted, taking her by the arm and guiding her, fairly roughly, back into the kitchen. He let her go and rushed to the backdoor, testing the handle to check if it was locked.

“Chris! What’s wrong?” Amy was scared now. She put herself in front of him and tried to look into his eyes. “Chris!” He was looking around wildly, but when she grabbed his arm he looked down at her. As soon as he did, Amy saw all the colour drain from his face, his eyes glazed over and he slumped to the floor. She shrieked in shock as she tried to catch him, but he was too big. She tucked her arms under his and pulled him up against the cupboards. Happy that he was not going to slide back to the floor, she pulled her arms back from behind him, only to shriek again. Her arms were covered in blood. Gently pulling him forward, Amy leaned round to look at his back. Chris’ white shirt was ripped bloody, untucked from his black pants. She lifted it out of the way to see a mangled mess where his back should be. A small sound came from Chris’ mouth and Amy pushed him back up to a seating position and put her ear to his face.

“Outside… Behind… Bite… Couldn’t get… away…” Agitated that she couldn’t put together what he was trying to say, Amy took his face in her hands. His face was burning hot and clammy, but his lips were white and he was struggling to keep his eyes open.

“Wha…” Amy started. She didn’t get any further before there was a horrendous bang on the front door. Then another. Leaning to the left she could see down the hall to the front door. Silhouetted in the frosted glass was a tall, broad man. The shape faded as it backed away from the door and then sharpened as he threw himself at it. Amy, hooked her hands under Chris’ armpits and started to drag him towards the living room. She had just got through the threshold when she heard the lock on the front door give way and the door slammed open against the wall. She shut her husband in the living room and rushed over to the knife rack, grabbing the biggest butcher’s knife she had. She swung round, wielding the knife as the man entered the living room.

“Jack?” She lowered the knife as she frowned at her neighbour. But, it very quickly became apparent to her that this was not the neighbour that she had known for the past 7 years. The normally tall, strong, well-kempt gentleman of a neighbour now had his shoulders rolled forward in a slump, his mouth slack-jawed and a strange milky haze over his eyes. He had bare feet and pyjama pants on, his bare chest smeared with blood, blood that was dripping from his open mouth. He locked eyes with Amy and started toward her. Screaming she stumbled backward, but slipped on something on the floor, dropping the knife. As she fumbled around for the knife she realized she had slipped in her husband’s blood, which now coated her flannel pants and bare feet. The creature that was once Jack reached for her as she pushed herself back away from him, back until something narrow and hard hit her between the shoulder blades. Grabbing onto it, Amy realised that it was the door to her pantry, her lockable pantry. Using it to pull herself up, she flew inside, pulling the door round behind her. Jack’s dirty, blood-stained hand suddenly appeared around the edge of the door, pulling it back open. Amy grabbed the handle with both hands and pulled with all her strength. There was suddenly the sound of running boots out in the hall and all at once the force against her was gone and she slammed the door shut, looked it and backed into the small storage room.

There was a loud bang on the floor and then the repeated sound of something softer than the floor, something almost muffled. A viscous puddle of almost black liquid seeped under the door and Amy backed all the way to the shelves on the opposite side, the whistling in her ears not stopping as she crouched to the floor, curling her arms around her knees. The high-pitched sound only stopped when she took a deep breath and it was then that she realized that the sound had been her own screams. Lights popped in her vision and the room around her swam. Very soon the door looked like it was miles away as tunnel vision took over before everything went black.    

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