• Prologue:

    The very second my body started to become aware, I snapped myself out of unconsciousness. My eyes flashed open the same moment a harsh breath pulled down my raw, hoarse throat. First thing I noticed, I couldn't see. Everything in my vision was blinded out by a overwhelming, bright light, leaving no room for anything else but a terrible, fluorescent white. Panic began to settle in my chest, causing my heart to pound sporadically, my breathing coming quick and sharp. What was happening to me? Where was I?
    I did everything in my power to move, but my muscles refused my dire commands, continuing to lay ridged, and motionless. My whole body screamed with an aching pain, I couldn't have felt worse if I had been hit head on by an eighteen wheeler. My instincts where blaring painfully in the back of my mind. "Move or Die."
    Eventually, my internal struggle was relieved, just as I realized my sight was beginning to adjust to the blinding white. Vague shapes began to appear, my muscles slowly melting away into stiffness, rather than complete immobilization. Another thing began to settle. Fear, horror, and for some reason, a terrible loneliness that I couldn't seem to shake. My breathing was still coming quick and sharp, I was far from being settled down.
    I found then that I was laying on a flat, cold surface. This was much different than the hard, uneven ground I was used to at night. Struggling, I managed to curl my fingers against my side, causing something to crinkle loudly. I froze instantly, my breath catching in surprise. What was that? What could I be possibly laying on? And again, where am I?
    A sudden memory was sparked, showering my mind with a momentary warmth, images flooding back to me. Smells of a doctors office seemed to linger in my nose, though I knew they were long gone by now. The doctor was probably dead. That wasn't the point though, I suddenly knew. The crinkling was that paper. The white kind that the doctors always spread out over the bed before they would tell their patient to lay down. That had to mean I was in some sort of hospital, but why?
    More things began to fill into my line of vision, the white light giving away to a vague shape of a circular overhanging lamp again. The dark ceiling above was splattered with dark stains. A small table covered in an assortment of different things could be seen in her peripheral vision. I gave a sudden start, hearing a voice nearby.
    "Hay! Ro! This un over here is wakin' up!" Called the loud, excited voice. It was obviously masculine, but it had a southern draw to it.
    "Ellis, sweetie, you sure about that?" a softer voice asked, an obviously feminine.
    "Yeah! Her eye's are a movin' and everything! I ne'er been more positive in my life! We'll, maybe that one time when I was with my buddies an' we decided to go down to the swamp an'-"
    "Please, Ellis, not now," the girl gave a slight laugh, and sounds of footsteps approached me. I held my breath, trying to push back my worry. She was by my side in moments, looking to me with a small smile. She was very pretty, her dark hair pulled back into a braid for the moment, her very dark skin in great contrast to the bright white of her teeth shown in her grin. I guessed she couldn't have been any older than thirty. "Guess you're right Ellis," she said placing a hand on my forehead as the Ellis figure stepped into my line of vision.
    He was of average height, and at first seemed gangly and awkward, but at a second glance you could tell the muscle and tan of his skin from years of working outside. He wore a dark blue hat on his head, and a goofy grin on his face.
    I wanted to pull away from the hand, but my muscles still refused, instead, I just had to look up at them frightened, helpless. "My name is Rochelle, but you can call me Ro. And this here is Ellis. What's your name sweetie?" the girl asked as she pulled her hand back to her side, going instead to reach for something on the table beside my bed. I couldn't respond, I just gawked at the two for a moment, trying to find my voice.
    "Where am I?" I finally got the will to ask, but my voice was hoarse and shaky, my eyes looking for any sign of menace from the two people.
    "You be in New Orleans! With CEDA! You're safe! No more runnin' from those damn zombies!" Ellis exclaimed, seeming to be way too excited for his own good.
    Something about that was like a punch to the stomach. I exhaled painfully, tears suddenly threatening to well up in my eyes. The memories of my struggle began to overwhelm me, pulling me into a panic.
    "Hey? Girl, it's okay! What's the matter?"Rochelle tried to comfort quickly, but it was too late. I remembered now. I remembered how I had gotten here, and what I had lost to manage it.

    My name is Ashlee Reid Collins, and this is how I survived.

    About a Month Before:

    The dying sun had already fallen behind the skyline. There was nothing left to show of it's presence than the orange and pink streaking across the sky, cutting into the darkness that was leaking in quickly from the west. Typically the night brought on a new kind of beauty to the city, street lights and sparkling buildings filling the scene. Not anymore. Now it only threw piercing fear and looming death, chilling cold and uncertain moans in the distance. For now, the apocalypse as come. The zombie apocalypse.
    A scream pierced the air, dark and threatening. It wasn't a normal scream. Far from it. It was a scream only a zombie could emit, one that sent fear into the heart like a frozen blade. The scream came again, echoing through the dark, silent streets. There was no electricity in the city, nor any bustling cars and people running about to do what ever it was
    they needed to do. Of course not. How could there be? Not when the Green Flu had infected everyone, ether killing them, or turning them. Or at least, nearly everyone.
    Somewhere, off in the mass of buildings, sat a girl in the dark, her back to the corner of an apartment building bedroom. Her amber eyes were wide with horror, a hand to her mouth to stifle her labored breathing, to keep her from being heard by someone . . . Or something. All she had was a backpack strapped to her back, a flashlight in her free hand, and something strapped to her belt. A pistol. A weak hand gun that stood no chance against a Jockey, let alone a Tank, or even a Charger. The special infected. For some reason, some people didn't mutate or change quiet well. They didn't turn into the simple, mindless undead. They turned into something very different. Something that had a bloodthirsty goal. To do everything they can to kill you mercilessly. And if you weren't careful, they would do just that. . .
    The girl's name was Ashlee, yet, she preferred Ash. She appeared seventeen, but the
    fear in her eyes just seemed to add to the age. Her lungs still protested for air, but she wouldn't allow large intakes of breath. If she made too much noise, she could have unexpected visitors, or an unexpected room mate. She normally thoroughly searched a room before she bunked there, at least since the apocalypse, but today, she didn't have a choice. It was hide or be slaughtered. She somehow had alerted a Hunter to her presence in the city, and it was going to stop at nothing to get to her.
    Hunters, to her, were one of the most scary special infected. They crawled around, completely silent and unseen. There screams were panther-like, and raised the fine hair on the back of her neck every time she heard it. Their faces were always hooded, their claws always sharpened to the deadliest of points. They could jump for many feet, tackling a victim to the ground before they could even know what was happening. Their eyes glowed a deathly yellow, seemingly able to stare right into a person's soul. Sometimes, she didn't doubt that.
    Ashlee was even lucky she saw the Hunter in the first place. Hunters were dead silent, and lethal quick. Once it spotted her, she knew she was dead. She knew it was then end for her. The being was super fast, too fast for her even at her quickest. It crouched at the top of a building before she had known it was there. Ash was looking for any sort of unaffected food she could get her hands on, anything to quench her snarling stomach. Unfortunately, with her butterfingers, she had dropped her pistol that was clutched loosely in her fist, and it clattered against the concrete sidewalk. The movement of the Hunter after her was caught in the corner of her eye, so she ran for dear life.
    The girl was lucky enough to grab her pistol and slip unseen into this apartment. Every so often she could still hear the panther-like screams of the Hunter pour through the city as it tried to pursue after her,
    but then gave up out of sheer boredom. Ash thanked the Lord that Hunter's had a short attention span. If not, it would have found her in no time. Eventually, the stitch in Ashlee's side subsided, and her lungs were able to wrangle in enough air. She let her hand fall to her lap, closing her eyes as she basked in the relief for a short moment. She couldn't rest forever though. It was move or die.
    Reaching for her flashlight, Ash clicked it on, and did a quick sweep of the room to make sure she didn't have any unwanted company, something she should have done in the first place. Thankfully, nothing popped out at her, and she shut it back off, leaning her head into the corner. She needed to rest, she was exhausted, and without some sleep she knew she would be getting no where when the sun rose in the morning. Honestly, she had not a clue where she was going anyways. Just anywhere but here. She couldn't go home. Not after she had shot her own brother. Not after she had seen with her very eyes the bloodied, lifeless bodies of her parents smeared across the concrete in front of her house. She just held on to the shreaded hope there were still other humans out there. Somewhere.