Our Expiration Date

Chapter 1

My name is Wilford Price. My friends and family call me 'Dexter' and 'Dex' after some crazy smart movie character.

My parents and I used to live on a farm in Texas before the zombies showed up. They separated me and my mamma from my papa in a quarantine zone in Dallas. We lived there for about a year. Mamma found out where papa was, they sent him to a zone up near North Dakota.

She told me she'd come back for me once her and papa were safe. So she left me there. I found out later that there was room for me on the transfer jeep, but she begged to leave me behind.

I was eight when she left me. I was recruited as an orphan soldier in the zone. I was trained day and night to kill stragglers and zombies, I even killed a poor woman who got bit. She begged for her life as I put a bullet between her eyes.

On my thirteenth birthday I received a call. My mamma and papa wanted me at their zone. I was given a gun and sent off with a transfer bus. I had to protect that bus with my life.

I had never been outside the zone before. The dead were everywhere. Some had mutated and grown extra muscles and limbs, turning them into tank-like beasts. Others were practically melting from even the tiniest sprinkle of water.

When I arrived at the zone where my mamma and papa were, I found out I had two little brothers. One was four years old, they named him Popper. I called him Sprite, after my favorite soda (and the only one they continued after the world went under). The other was just about a year old. His name was Lucifer. They named him after the devil to piss off a priest. I called him Ponyboy because he loved horses.

The day our zone became overrun was the worst day of my life. They had me patrolling the outer wall in the middle of the night. I heard someone trying to sneak out. I confronted them with my squad, only to get a faceful of fist.

The stragglers were all bitten, and they turned fast. I don't know how I got out, but I made it to my house. Mamma and papa grabbed Sprite and Ponyboy. I stole us a jeep and we sped off while everyone in the zone fought off the zombies.

We lived in the woods for awhile. Papa wouldn't let me teach Sprite to shoot a gun.

I awoke one morning to a note on my pillow. It read, "Dear Wilford, Take care of your brothers. We were going to shoot you all in the head, but we're pretty sure you'd do it for us. We can't feed you anymore. Hope the teeth in your throat kill you quick, Mom and Dad."

It was Sprite's fifteenth birthday. They left us on his birthday.

When Sprite and Ponyboy woke up, I told them I was going to go hunt with mamma and papa. I went into the woods, found a few zombies, then I shot them while screaming. I made sure to get a lot of blood on me and ran back to our camp. I told them our parents died saving us. We cried about it for hours.

We've been on the move since that day. I'm now twenty seven, Sprite's eighteen, and Ponyboy's fourteen. I keep track of the days with a small notebook. I've been teaching them how to shoot, hunt, and make fires. I just hope I'm a good teacher.

A loud noise rips me out of my half-slumber. I grab my rifle and quickly stand up. I kick away my covers and aim my rifle at the noise. Nothing but a wall.

We've set up camp in a storage unit. It's abandoned and overgrown. We were lucky to find an unlocked unit among all the rusted ones.

"Sprite?" I call. I look around at the two makeshift beds beside me. Empty.

"Sprite, Ponyboy?" I yell, frantic. I run outside the unit, searching for my brothers. I see nothing but cold stone rows of storage units covered in vines. The plants were turning autumn gold in preparation for the no doubt cruel winter ahead.