A Different Virus: Heartfire (Ace's Story) HIATUS

Chapter 2

WARNING: Graphic Scenes

We weren't the only ones to think the emergency news broadcasts were an April Fools joke. It had cost millions of people their lives. How could a deadly pandemic spread across half the world in under 12 hours? Disguise. It had started as a plain cold that emerged in Syria and Iraq. The blasted thing had an internal timer, and after 3 months, everyone turned. After 12 hours of infection, it made those infected go into comas. It quickly spread across Asia and Africa, and slowly around Europe. Heavily populated places were affected, like Toronto, New York, San Francisco, etc. After about a month, those in comas rose with red eyes and a hunger for human flesh.

I saw my mother on the news. She moved with incredible speed, faster than she had ever run in life. I thought she was running from the horde chasing her, until I saw her bite into someone. Apparently those that could move fast were called "Swifts". How original. I didn't see my dad. I didn't want to.

Ivan and I were in my house intently focusing on the news, trying to find a way to counter these newly found monsters. We knew that bullets didn't kill them, but it was much worse. They couldn't drown, didn't bleed out, and didn't care about broken bones. The only way to kill a zombie was to sever it's head. Because that is what they were. They didn't classify as he or she anymore. They were rabid monsters.

They then went on to explain about new methods of infection. We exchanged a long worried look. Needless to say, we paid attention.

"If it manages to bite you, scratch you, or if it's blood sp-"

The TV cut out and all the lights turned out. "Ah shit!" cried Ivan. "Now what the hell are going to do?"

I struggled to think of how to survive. "Let's look outside." I suggested.

"You can, but I'm staying right here. There is no way in hell that I'm going near those windows." I shook my head and walked over. I saw a group of six people furtively sneaking out of a large house. No zombies spotted them, somehow.

"Psst! Hey! Ivan! Get your butt over here!" He pointedly ignored me. "There are survivors, and zombies aren't attacking them!" I spoke without taking my eyes off of them. I wanted to know how they weren't being seen.

"Uggggh..." He slowly came over, groaning like a teenager.

I looked at him sharply - he never moaned like that. I saw him - with red eyes. I gasped in horror. Ivan was infected. A man I had worked with for half a year, was trying to kill me. How? He said he fought my boss at his house, but killed him. Did he get scratched?

"...or if blood sp-" As I remembered that, he lunged at me with surprising speed for something that was supposed to be dead. I darted to the right, narrowly dodging Ivan's strike. I didn't have a weapon. And I needed one.

My back was to the stairs. He had turned around, and was shambling towards me. I ran. Hyperventilating, I dashed up the creaking stairs to the attic, where an old suit of armour stood. I tried to grab the sword, but it was welded to the hands, as the armour was purely decorative. I cursed under my breath and slammed the armour to the ground. Nothing happened. I cursed again, and swung it against the wall. Finally, the arm came off at the elbow. It was bad, but better than nothing.

I cautiously moved towards the ladder, and saw no sign of Ivan. I called his name, and a faint moan responded. I blinked in surprise, he should've been up here by now. I slid down the ladder, and saw Ivan floundering about halfway up the stairs. Apparently zombies weren't too coordinated...

It was at this point that I thought: How did one kill a zombie? Bullets didn't work... With that thought, I struck him directly on the skull, with the shockwaves making my hand hurt like hell. "Sorry Ivan..." I muttered under my breath. He snarled furiously, and reached up towards my ankles. My breath hitched, and I leapt backwards. My heart was pounding, and I decided to go for the arms instead. If it couldn't use it's legs to get up, it's arms missing would render it immobile.

I raised the sword with the arm attached with aching hands, and struck the zombie in front of me in the bicep. The arm came clean off, with blood spurting everywhere. I gasped in horror - blood splatter could be fatal. I needed to stop it from trying to bite me, and I went for the neck. Only a few tattered bits of skin kept its head connected, and I gagged at the sight. Blood sprayed out like water from a hose, and I ran. I heard it gurgle, and then go silent. I retched, bile stinging the back of my throat.

I was on the second floor, and a dead zombie with blood everywhere was blocking the stairs. I retreated into the bathroom, and looked out of the window. I began my self-control exercises. Breathing in... 2... 3... 4... And out... 2... 3... 4...

It didn't work. I yelled at the top of my lungs. I was just so stressed! I couldn't deal with it any more. So I went downstairs, my breath hitching at the sight of him, and locked the door. I closed all the curtains, and collapsed into bed.