Project 43

Of course I didn't die, I'm sitting here writing in my journal eating an apple. But I bet your curious what happened.

See at the time I didn't know it- and I still don't quite understand why. I thought that as they stalked towards the door descending upon me and I froze like a rabbit- I was done for. The memories of the little girl tearing through my flesh fresh in my memory despite no evidence of it on my neck. The pain. The feeling of dying and living all at once.

I rationalized at the time that it had been the explosion- that the infected ran because of the noise. But that hadn't made sense in my mind afterwards, though when the blast shook me; making me fall to my knees and the doors slowly closing as I covered my head instinctively- nothing really made sense.

Why hadn't it made sense? It bothered me for about a day or two before I finally had my answer.

All the other zombies had ran towards the noise or continued after their prey unaffected; something I only half registered in my mind. (for lack of a better term yes I'm calling them zombies, the infected sounds kind of morbid like they're still human even though I know it's the right term, I just don't have the heart to write it that way anymore.)

The ones that had been coming towards me ran the other direction. Away from me. Away from the blast. Away from the people who ran behind me.

I'm not ashamed to say that when the doors locked and the shaking stopped, I ran. I hid in the closest room, shut the door and hid under a bed. I hid under that bed for hours with one triangle of sheet to peek out of at every little noise, my hands and body shaking as I tried to breathe.

There where screams. More blasts, though none of them as close as before making the building shake. It wasn't until the sun began to rise that I begin to think staying here was probably not the wisest idea. As much as my fight or flight instinct was flight and hide- my mind had been trained on some degree on a military level.

Move. I told myself. Move. Air strikes are more lethal than those things. You've come up against them twice you're not feeling ill yet- maybe you're fixed. Maybe it's adrenaline. It doesn't matter you have to MOVE.

The military would take precautions to make sure that this didn't get into general population. There were a million things that they could do but the smartest choice would be to contain the infection by any means necessary. Especially if this escaped from their lab. Civilian casualties are only in consideration to the big picture sometimes.

Birds were singing and things were eerily quiet when I pried my stiff body from under the bed. I wasn't stupid enough to roam the hallways without a weapon when I looked out the window and saw everything was clear. There was an axe in glass for this room which looked like it had once been some sort of teacher's lounge- it was a lot smaller and with only a tiny window looking to a small courtyard and then the other which was the door that led to the hallway.

I checked out the small window first- and there was a body on the ground near some blueberry bushes and flowers. The person was clearly a man, but I couldn't tell of he was dead, alive or... infected. When I finally braved the hallway my heart hammered in my chest the whole time, my breath coming in quick pants.

"Hey. Pisst. Hey." The noise had come from behind me- one of the doors was cracked open and a boy's voice called for me. He had to of been fourteen at most- on the edge of puberty and probably as terrified as I felt. "Are any of them out there?" I shook my head no, his eyes glanced back into the room before he slid out shutting the door behind him. He was shaking, half of his white T shirt soaked in blood. His jeans hadn't come out unscathed either though they looked to be in better condition. "Can I come with you?" His giant brown eyes shone with unshed tears and his voice warbled.

Having others with me could be helpful- but they could also be a liability. When push came to shove though it was always better to have another body. That's what I told myself. To be honest I didn't know if he was infected or not and I was terrified that he was.

We walked down the hallway a little farther to another set of double doors. I frowned as they came in eyesight because blood smeared the glass and I saw movement on the other side. Without thinking twice, I turned back around- to the ones I knew lead outside farther down where I had come from.

When we passed the door where I had found the boy- who's name is Nathan by the way- it was shut. But I heard the distinct scraping and moaning of one of them and the distinct smell that I now am starting to recognize. It's not rotting flesh exactly, it's like plastic to me. I don't know how to describe it but it's still pretty putrid and distinct.

He's still with me- and no I haven't asked him who was behind the door. We don't really talk about that place. I'm OK with that.

Long story short we prepared to fight a bunch of zombies. You know ones that straggled maybe or ones stuck like in the movies. Something like that? Instead everything was quiet. The gates had been left open. There was still a running vehicle with the door wide open- a fully stocked military jeep with supplies. So we took it and hit the road.