"Sky! Get a grip! the hoards are coming!" Slade tugged at my worn-out red flannel shirt. Behind him a hoard of zombies was trying to break the makeshift barricade we made from scrap wood and was slowly succeeding. "The door won't hold for long! Take what you can and run for it, I still have to look for medicine for Sarah."
I miss the days when Slade was still Kenneth Desner my lanky nerd friend, and zombies could be dealt with using a Peashooter or maybe a Cherry bomb if you had the sun. It's hard to believe that the world ended two years ago and I was still alive.
I took off in a sprint carrying a bottle of bleach and a half eaten can of tuna. What exactly I was gonna do with the bleach I had no idea but at least we wouldn't have to smell urine mixed with blood on the dining room table, what can I say? The smell of blood really makes the taste of expired turkey pop.
Zombies are pretty fast runners I have to admit. I was being chased by a grandpa turned undead and either that old man was actually a body builder with really convincing make-up or rotting legs just run faster. (Note to self, if I ever turn into a zombie, I'll join the Olympics first before telling everyone)
Seeing as the zombies were gaining on me, I did what any rational human being would do in the apocalypse and jumped off a window. Sadly, I did not die, but at least I escaped that broken down mall and managed to run away from the zombies and hide. Thankfully zombies groaning everywhere made me practically noiseless as I sneak away and any scent, I left would be concealed by that strong zombie stank.
So, in a zombie invasion, where do you never go? Firstly, don't go into malls like we stupidly did, because a place where people would likely seek refuge in would always be the place with the most zombies, naturally that would also include hospitals, houses, and food factories; trust me, I've been there and found nothing but zombies and already ransacked cabinets. Secondly, avoid open spaces. Zombies are fast and worst of all, they're never alone; if you ever find yourself in the middle of a park, you might as well just fall in your knees and sing Ave Maria because there ain't no way you're getting out of there alive. What you should remember instead is that height is your friend zombies ( yes, even ballerina zombies) are fumbling graceless idiots who would most likely fall to their deaths before catching you on rooftops.
That is why in the middle of the afternoon you would find a young man like me walking on planks in between buildings. No, I am not doing parkour, and also no I am not doing a Tiktok. I am just your ordinary teenage boy, doing what ordinary teenage boys do in the apocalypse which is risk their lives to find medicine for their adopted mother.
I used to be scared of heights before the apocalypse; I used to be scared of many things: rats, cockroaches, snakes - now those are what I call breakfast, dinner, and lunch. The apocalypse changes people, Slade was one of those changed greatly.
I was with Kenneth when the zombies attacked. We were playing Minecraft talking about that conspiracy theory of zombies being the reason Texas was in lockdown when suddenly the cell towers went down and cars everywhere crashed, one in particular on Kenneth's gate. Kenneth's parents were the first to react and naturally became the first victims of the attack. It was his father who first turned, Mr. Desner was checking on the driver of the car when with a pained gasp, he staggered back. The changes were instantaneous as his veins pulsated into a sickly grey hue which spread towards the pupils of his eyes and Mr. Desner made a final suffering scream, at first human, and then altogether undead.
All Kenneth and I could do was watch in horror as the same process repeated but this time with Mrs. Desner. Kenneth tried to reach out to them but I knew better than to let him. I pulled him forcefully outside, his strength having left him, all Kenneth could do was get pulled along by me as we went outside.
Everywhere were civilians running for their lives, being chased by these rabid moving corpses. Moving away from my crowd, this is where I learned my first lesson in how to live in the zombie apocalypse, "Never go where the mass of people would go." Of course I didn't know any better and dragged Kenneth with me towards the Police Station which was just a few blocks away. It was a huge mistake because just as we arrived, hordes of zombies came rushing out of the Police Station doors and were suddenly after us.
I did all I could do but with the speed of the zombies and the weight of Kenneth slowing me down I knew all I could do was hide and barricade myself indoors. The closest place we could go was a shed by the station lobby where they left the supplies for the police dogs and miraculously, we reached in just in time as a zombie's hand nearly reached the shutters. I pulled the metal shutters with all my strength, and I could hear a cracking sound as the zombie hand was torn off inside. That hand kept creeping up by itself so I stomped and stomped on it until it stopped moving.
There was no light in that shed, there was only kibble and all sorts of dog supplies. It was not the most optimal place to be trapped in and even worse was being trapped with a friend having a breakdown inside.
I don't know how long we spent on that shed, it felt like years, but my guess was about a week or two. Kenneth and I didn't talk to each other once the whole duration we were there. There was absolute silence save the groans of zombies and our whimpers. In the darkness you lose track of who was actually crying, all you knew was the cry was of intense pain and longing. I knew my family was dead, my parents were writers who only went outside to go to Starbucks for their daily dose of bitter laxative liquid and my little sister Tia was only four. For a while I wondered what would have been more painful, knowing in my depth of heart that they were dead or seeing them turn into zombies right before my very eyes like Kenneth. Of course, it's a difficult sight to see but at least you would know for certain that they were dead and not have this nagging hope at the back of my head that maybe by some miracle my family was alive and well.
Raised on cheese puffs and self-entitlement, isolation with nothing to eat but dog food took a strange effect on my mind. I began to hallucinate this vivid dream of me standing on a garden of sort looking at a distorted image of the moon bursting with red and purple. In that garden I was watching a whole town crumble, and yet I was laughing, it was mirthless but at the same time natural. I laughed and laughed as everything in view save for the moon was falling down. I still dream of that hallucination at times, it has grown to have a strange fondness for me.
Kenneth on the other hand had a much worse kind of change fall upon him. At first all he did was cry and cry, his raspy coughs would soon after become my white noise machine. Around halfway of our isolation however he began talking to himself, almost as if he forgot he was not alone. He'd sometimes just speak idly with random midsentence phrases like "Yep, and I finished One Piece all in one day." or "My favorite starter Pokemon? Its Bulbasaur." That was when I first began to notice he was going insane. It took a stranger turn however when he started referring to his imaginary friend as Slade, he began to have this awed way to how he talked to Slade, as if admiring his hero.
Around the end of our isolation, I had begun to understand this Slade character that Kenneth invented. Slade was, basing from how Kenneth described him, strong and stoic. Slade would fight off zombies with a pencil if he was dared and he would chew off his own arm if he was ever captured with no other way to escape. He was a natural leader and would always take the initiative in any situation. I thought nothing of it until the day we were saved.
That day, the metal shutters opened for the first time since the beginning of our ordeal. I quickly panicked and grabbed anything I could which was the blanket I slept on but it was actually a checkered vest, the type you'd see lumberjacks wearing on TV and I always had that flannel ever since, I began to have a strong attachment to it as the only thing that I owned in this torn-down place.
Kenneth on the other hand stood up quickly and even helped open the metal shutters completely, even without knowing who or what opened it in the first place. Hitting my eyes for the first time, the sunlight stung and was an unwelcomed guest on my eyes, that began the streak of things I didn't like to see.
The one who opened the shutters was thankfully a fellow survivor, it was a thin man with a hooked nose and heavy bags under his eyes. He frowned with disgust in our living situation, meanwhile the fellow accompanying him was who we would later know as Sarah. She was a plump dark-skinned woman with the brightest smile in the whole apocalypse but the day we met her she had a very concerned frown on her face.
"What day is it?" Kenneth asked as he ran his hands over his bald head. I wondered whether he found a razor, pulled his own hair out, or if it fell-off due to stress but as it was Kenneth was ragged, fiercely bald and severely malnourished. He was wearing a skull shirt with the sleeves torn and he on his neck was a spiked collar like the type you'd see on bulldogs. It was a mystery how he could even stand much less have this imposing stance like at any moment he would reveal that he was actually a Stand-user.
"Who knows? I stopped counting after the third day." The serious man replied, I only now noticed that he was wearing a white coat which was terrible for survival but perhaps reminded him of the past that left him behind.
Kenneth only clicked his tongue and continued. "Don't bother searching that shed, we already ate anything edible. My name is Slade by the way and that lost puppy's name is Sky. I'd appreciate it if you bring us to your colony. You have one surely?"
The man looked affronted and that's when the woman took over. "Of course dear, follow me it's not too far from here. Oh, how terrible you lot look. It won't be long now, we'll get you some warm food. You must've had a terrible time."
There was only one person that could bring Slade to break character and it was this woman. Slade completely losing that arrogant facade, followed Sarah silently as she explained everything that happened during the time we were stranded on that shed.
"It would be best to keep our distance to that Slade character." The man whispered to me as we were walking. His name is not Slade, and neither is mine Sky but I didn't say that to the man, I only looked at him with an empty expression. I never did correct him, nor did I ever ask him for his own name. It didn't matter because the next week, he was dead.
As I reached our colony, my shoe stepped on something wet and sticky. You deal with the everything in our makeshift house the same way everytime, you never look down. Whether it was while walking on the edges of this rooftop condominium or what you were having for dinner — you don't look down.
"Welcome back boy, did you find anything good?" An old lady opened the barricade for me.
"I found some bleach Mrs. Seo, by the way has Slade arrived yet?"
Mrs. Seo gave me an odd look, like the one you would give to a boy who'd risk his life over bleach.
"What an odd boy you are Sky." Mrs. Seo smiled at me as I handed her the bleach.
I took in the colony as I entered. This used to be a luxury hotel famous for its overwhelming size and its rooftop that had space for 4 helipads. Now its bottom floors have all been sealed off and only the top 2 floors are used, sparringly at that. Most of the members of our colony would rather stay here in the rooftop where most of the apocalypse renovations have been made. At the center was our living room where there were books, board games, and an old rusty guitar that only Sarah could play because of her calloused hands. A little to the left, partitioned by curtains is the kitchen area, full of knives, cooking utensils, old pots, and our stack of LPG tanks which is one of our colony's most prized possessions. To the right are the sleeping quarters for most of the inhabitants of our colony, usually just carpets with a few pillows or metal beds that people found on abandoned houses. Wood is a precious resource that would have better use as barricades or firewood, or even as armaments rather than bed frames. Me and Slade however were one of the braver ones who dared use the 12th floor as our rooms. It had more privacy but there was always the possibility of a zombie sneaking in the hotel and killing us in our sleep. The rooftop did not hold that possibility with 24/7 guards and barricades.
I didn't enjoy the crowdedness above however and would much rather sleep on my suite below. Sure it was ransacked for any valuables already but I managed to sneak one of the luxury mattresses from below up there and install a door, and made it as comfortable as possible. All in all my room was just a spacious cell with glass windows for its only source of light and a single matress. That and all the little souvenirs I had from my travels outside. There was a wood carving of a goat, an action figure of handsome squidward, and a busted music box, it was just a few but given how little people in the apocalypse own, I'm actually considered a hoarder.
As I finally layed down on my matress, a knock came at my door and as I checked it was Slade, perhaps seeing if I survived.
"Hey." He said as he let himself in and turned his attention towards the view from my window.
"Why did you say your name is Slade?" I asked him absentmindedly.
He chuckled. "After all this time, now you ask?"
"I just realized it's not a phase." I stood by his side looking towards our abandoned city.
"Names don't matter in the apocalypse Sky. In this world were not dictated by the sound of our names, our status, or ethnicity any longer. Our identity is moot when our goal is survival. So why not just same my name is Slade? Why not just say your name is Sky? Who could tell us who we are when who we are can disappear in a matter of days? Do you remember that shed Sky? I thought to myself, what a pitiful person I was. I had nothing anymore, but then I realized, doesn't this mean a new beginning. If I lost my identity then why not create a new one, one not created by my past or my ancestry, or by the sound of my name. No this would be a lasting identity that I created for myself. My name, my family, and my identity were all decided for me the moment I was born, why then should I be constrained by something I didn't even choose for myself? Nationality, ethnicity, and ancestry, to hell with all of that. This is the apocalypse, and in this world I choose for myself, how I shall die, how I shall survive, and how I shall be named."