Survive: The Walking Apocalypse - Part 2 *EDITED*

The monsters stumble over the remains of my father, all their eyes focused on me as I run for the back door. With my shoes covered in blood, I almost slip on the smooth tiles of the kitchen floor, but I grab hold of the door as I do and swing it open.

The neighbourhood has gone to hell. I stop and stare with horror for a split second, paused in mid-stride. There is a huge crowd of them, the monsters, roaming up and down the street, chasing everyone in sight. Directly across from us, I see a young couple trapped within their car. They are surrounded by them. The windshield is smashed and they are dragged out, kicking and screaming. Not far from them, another group of monsters bombard the front of a house; Mrs. Byar's home, one of our neighbours. She'd often chat with my mother. They were good friends. I see her watching me from the upstairs window, thudding her fists against the glass. I can't hear what she is screaming, but it is obvious enough.

Help me.

I can only stare in response, uselessly. She continues to pound the glass of the window for a second longer, but a shadowy figure approaches from behind and pulls her back. Her appearance in the window is then replaced by thick splashes of blood as she is torn from sight.

Blood, fire, screams and death. In every direction, that is all I see.

The sound of rasping breaths at my back break me from my daze. I yelp with panic, step over the threshold, turn and slam the door shut behind me. They ram the door from the other side, but the sturdy wooden frame manages to hold them at bay.

My eyes dart up and down the street. I begin to panic, not knowing where to go. Leaning against the closed door at my back, the wooden frame shaking violently against the force of our attackers, I close my eyes and exhale a large breath. I have to go somewhere. Anywhere, as long as it is safe for Lucy and I. Releasing another breath, I push myself off the door.

My sister buries her face in my chest, hidden away from the horrors and blind to the violence. Yet, nothing stops her from hearing the screams. I hug her protectively, pulling her even closer.

In only two hours, the entire street we lived on had been destroyed. The neighbours dead, the houses wrecked and the gardens sprayed with blood. Cars lay scattered all over the road, many crashed and burning. Some people had built hasty fortifications on their homes to keep the others out, but they were quickly torn down; just like ours.

The attacks had spread like a wave, gradually swallowing up the entire town. We saw it happening on the news. No one knows how it started, only that it was now too late to stop. It had affected almost the entirety of the country in a single day, taking everyone unawares. The news reporters warned against going outside and advised us to stay indoors at all times, locking and barricading any entrances. We had listened. It didn't work. When the violence at last reached our neighbourhood, it had brought with it a horde of monsters. Monsters who used to be people. Strangers, friends, families and loved ones. They ambled through town like a herd of cattle, before splitting apart and attacking anyone they could get their hands on. They would tear their victims to pieces, clawing at their skin and devouring their flesh. If anyone was ever bitten, they would change. First, they would slowly begin to die, not from their wounds, but from infection - a vile sickness that destroys them from the inside. Then, after only a few minutes of having died, they would join the herd. It is how I lost both my parents.

I walk slowly, meandering past the wreckage of cars and dead bodies. Groups of still living people sprint in all directions, pursued by the ever hungry monsters. They shriek and stumble as they run away, many being caught by their pursuers and eaten alive, only to then be swarmed by an even larger group as they join in on the feast. I try to make myself seem as small as possible, making as little noise as I can. Monsters walk back and forth across the road, often cutting directly across the path I walk on, but I wait patiently for them to pass, huddled behind a tree or a car, before moving on. It works for the most part. Many don't ever seem to notice me, and the ones that do get easily distracted by a much larger or louder target.

I try my best to drown out the sounds of people screaming as I walk, the noise scraping the inside of my skull. I press onwards despite it, ignoring the pleas for help. Getting my sister to safety is my first and only priority.

My sister; little Lucy. I look down at her and my heart breaks. Her tiny hands clench onto my chest, knuckles white. Her tears have soaked my shirt completely, and still hundreds more fall. Her lovely, blonde locks of hair lay splayed wildly across my shirt, stained by specks of blood. I hush her gently, telling her everything will be fine.

Of course, I know that's not true. I look around and all I see is chaos. People feasting on the flesh of others. People eating each other like animals. The horror of it all is simply too much to comprehend.

No one has arrived to help us. Not a single police officer has come knocking. No soldiers have arrived, guns blazing. No ambulances, no firefighters, no government, no one. Not one person.

No, things would most certainly not be fine.

She doesn't need to know that. My sweet, innocent, little Lucy. Even with my last, dying breath, I will do everything in my power to protect her. She is all I have left.