Chaos Feed

Waking up in a pile of corpses isn't all that it's cracked up to be. Just ask Burke, a former special forces commando and recently infectee. If you can look past the crater in his arm, you'll find he's a real sweet guy. But be sure to bring along a shotgun, cause this one's cranium is extra thick.

Chapter 1: The Fever

I knew I was screwed the moment Billy overbite took a chunk out of me. Now no one wants to claim me as their own. The living gawk at the crater in my arm and get a little twitchy with the trigger. I can turn at any moment. They know this, as do I. And it's a hard point to argue. Better off putting a bullet in my head.

But not yet.

I still have something to offer. Some intrinsic value. And I haven't become a feeder yet.

This heart still beats, though questions abound. I scrape myself off the floor, wiping the blood from my nose. The blackouts are becoming more and more frequent. Must have thrown out my shoulder again. I slam it against the wall, forcing it back into place. There's little pain, a point not entirely lost on me. It's hard not to worry. And wonder.

Footsteps approach. Loud and clumsy. Must have knocked over the whole apartment. Nice to know someone still wants me, if only for my flesh. Seems like the zombies are the only ones showing me any love these days. But there's still one who's sweet on me. Scratch that. Gotta stop lying to myself. Living in a fantasy world.

I spend most of my time tracking through a murky haze. And I tend to run hot. My temperature's rarely under 100, even at night. If the zombies don't consume me, the fever will.

To survive, I must become the fever. But not the plague. Never the plague.

Don't know how much longer I can hold on.

My tortured guest paws open the bedroom door. Bullets would be nice, but I make do with a dull meat cleaver. It always surprises me how thick the general public's craniums are, but I manage to crack it open it with one wicked strike. Still it doesn't kill him outright. This one's stupider than the rest, or more determined. No wonder I've stayed alive this long.

Night sets in. The cry of a hundred thousand hungry mouths echoes through the streets.

The evening promises to be long. And messy.

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