Fucking zombies. I have no idea where they all came from, but one minute, I'm chilling out in a den with a couple of mates, the next, some guy busts in, all pale and out of breath, ranting something about dead people walking around. Of course, me and my friends were... not what you would call sober. We all stumbled outside, laughing at what an idiot he was being, and, well, not many of us made it.

I've always been one to carry as many weapons as I can get away with, and in the suddenly lawless zombie-filled incarnation of the UK, that was hardly a bad thing.

In my previous life, I was a cold blooded killer out to make as much money as I could. In this life, I'm almost exactly the same but without the money. Don't get me wrong, it's not like I killed very often or even wanted to. I was a drug dealer, and in my trade sometimes you have to cut out the weak link. Or people that get in your way. Think what you like, it worked for me, and I did it without a second thought. I suppose I was maybe preparing myself for this sort of shit all along.

I'd left so much of that all behind, though. I'd moved from my home in America to start fresh and then the fucking zombie apocalypse arrived and I was stuck in England with all these dead people trying to eat the nearest living thing.

I'd found this sort of woodland-y type thing. It was by no means big, compared to the ones I used to live near in Idaho, at any rate, but it would do. It was some kind of quick escape. They didn't seem to be so good at climbing trees.

I had gathered a couple companions, mostly so I could sleep without worrying about whether I was going to be some corpse fodder, but they were all pretty useless, in all honesty. I'd started with five others, but after less than a week, I'm down to me and one other guy, that seemed endlessly nervous around me. I suppose after seeing how easily I killed the others when they got infected, he realised I'd have no sympathy if anything happened to him.

"If you bring them down on us, I will cut your throat whether you're infected or not, understand?" I'd threatened the first night I joined the group. We moved around aimlessly. My plan was mostly just to wait out the apocalypse, really. I had no means to come up with a cure, and they were gonna run out of other things to eat eventually. When that happens, they'll die out. Until then? I wait. I survive and fight and claw my way through each day. 

The End

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