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Chapter 1: The Point

Christine was sitting out on the small rocky peninsula jutting into the sea that was once called Kaltiefe Point, but places like this didn’t have names any more. They had never been important enough to appear on any map, but instead their names had been passed down from generation to generation by the local people. When the world had died their names had gone with it.

The morning mist was slowly clearing as the sea crashed against the end of the point. Christine picked up a nearby stone and threw into a breaking wave, tears rolled down her face. In all the madness and carnage of the past months one thing was clear in her mind, she loved Jason and would do anything for him, risk everything for him. But the risk she was willing to take he wouldn’t allow. She knew deep down why; he loved her just as much, and that’s what hurt the most.

Jason would be gone by now. This time probably for at least a week. She breathed hard in an attempt to calm herself and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. She picked up a stone and threw it into another wave breaking onto the end of Kaltiefe Point.

Chapter 2: Survival

In the room on the top floor of the apartment block four humans sat quietly, huddled around a small fire lit in what use to be a large expensive ornamental bowl. Next to the fire the window was open, but only just enough to let what little smoke there was escape. Two of the figures were children, warming their hands from the chill of the morning air, their clothes showing dirt from weeks or months of neglect.

The eldest of the children stared at the corner of the room where a television set stood, a useless parody of what once was. Why they hadn’t moved it was a mystery. Watching the reflection of the small fire dance in the screen the boy’s mind drifted as he recalled the last broadcast he had seen on a television nearly a year ago: The reporter sat squarely at his desk reading a sheet of paper. Meaningless text scrolled at the bottom of the screen. The man’s eyes looked tired. He took a deep breath and put the sheet down. "Reports are now coming in from all parts of the country and nowhere seems safe from their ever increasing numbers. Already hospitals are collapsing under the immense strain and the Civil Defence Forces can seem to do nothing to halt this nightmare. My fellow citizens, the question is now simply one of survival. Is this the end? We have all heard or been told of our judgement, dooms day, the end of the world... Well here it is, right here, right now! What can w-" The child was brought back to reality by his younger sister complaining of the cold.

Their mother opened her eyes and looked over at her daughter. "It’s alright honey, you’ll get warm s-."

"Shhhhhhhh!" the father interrupted, suddenly looking very alert. The room became deadly silent apart from the periodic crackling of the small fire. After a few seconds of silence the mother lent slowly towards her husband and whispered, "What is it?"

"Shhhh!" he repeated again abruptly.

Almost instinctively the young boy threw a large blanket over the fire killing it instantly. The silence continued and the children began to look scared. Months of running and hiding from the monsters on the streets below had hardened them, but just sitting there not knowing what was happening made them uneasy.

A strange clanging came from somewhere outside, barely audible at first, but getting louder. The two adults moved slowly and quietly towards the window and peered through the crack to try and find the source of the sound. Eight floors below them lay the remnants of what had once been a busy town street. Now only a pair of lifeless shambling figures could be seen slowly moving between the debris and abandoned vehicles that once constituted civilisation.

Looking out of the window was risky. As long as they kept quiet and weren’t spotted they were relatively safe. But if one of the things on the street saw them it could mean trouble. Making no noise meant that they had only been able to board up the ground floor of the apartment block superficially. A concerted effort at a window or door by one of those things could be enough for it to get in, and usually where there was one of those monsters there were more. Abandoning this block to go elsewhere would be inviting trouble. They’d seen other unfortunate souls running for cover on the streets below, driven out of their hiding places for some unknown reason, their gunshots and cries attracting more and more of the ghouls. If they had got away or not they didn’t know. All they did know was that they hadn’t seen or heard another living soul for a long time.

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