Day's End

Infectious

          I sighed monotonously as my feet hung over the edge of a roof of some building. I've never been good with stress. I go into a panic attack and snap, but I only discovered this recently, though. I am Natalie Smith, 21 years old, and this is how my life went to hell.
         Natalie stuck to the left side of the road as she sulked through the abandoned streets of a city she was forced to relocate to. Not for any financial or family-related reasons, but, instead, Natalie was forced by a horde of the living dead. Yup, you heard correctly. She doesn't know how it happened, but it's been about two years to her knowledge. So many of her friends and acquaintances have given way to the 'infection' that she lost count a long time ago.
           'Walkers,' as she had dubbed them, clumsily stumbled over fallen signs and wooden beams, hardly taking any notice of her. She had a dark green backpack strapped to her back, holding a half-full water bottle, a jar of peanut butter she had been saving, and, in the side pocket, her red, retractable fire department knife a friend had given her. Natalie came across a run-down car, and she peeked through the cracked side window, finding a walker still strapped with a seatbelt. The walker slowly looked up and moaned, sticking its flimsy arms in an attempt to attack her. Natalie decided to leave the walker and continued wandering the streets.
              Natalie stopped suddenly, staring up longingly at the run-down sign of a grocery store. With excitement building up in her, she ran towards the entrance, praying that no-one had yet raided or claimed the store. She reached the doors and noticed she had caught the attention of a few walkers nearby. Her hands started to shake, and a pit of dread started to form in her stomach. "Crap.." She muttered, quickly pulling out her knife. She shakily broke the lock with the blade of her knife and rushed in, unintentionally slamming the doors closed. Natalie desperately looked around, trying to find something to block the door with. Although she knew she could take on two walkers, she didn't want to take any chances, especially when she thought about past mistakes. Disappointingly, the store was small, but there was a fallen cabinet beside the door. She rushed to its side, vainly pushing it to the door's base. Once she was satisfied with her barricade, she moved on further into the store.
               She slid her backpack off, cramming it with some water bottles and some of her favorite foods. She picked it up, testing its weight. Natalie decided she could carry a few more things, so she decided to pack in some medical supplies. Stooping to pick up painkillers from the floor, she stuffed it into the same pocket her knife sat comfortably in. Her hands froze, still holding the bottle, as she heard a gun click behind her. Natalie felt her rapid heartbeat, and that familiar pit settled again. A deep voice sounded behind her, "Put the bag and bottle down and turn around." Her hands shook as she limply dropped the bottle, slid the backpack off, and cautiously turned around.
               Natalie faced a tall male wielding the gun that had prevented her looting. He bore dark brown, shaggy hair, blue-almost grey eyes, and a subtle beard. Her voice caught in her throat, and she felt unable to move or speak. The man spoke again, "Do you have any weapons on you?" His request took a few hesitant seconds to process in Natalie. She shook her head quickly, once able to. He nodded behind her, signaling to his companion. Her bag was quickly snagged from its spot by a female wielding another gun. The woman bore similarities to the man, such as hair and eye color, so Natalie assumed they were related in some way.
                 The woman put her gun in her pocket, unzipping Natalie's backpack and searching through the things she had looted. The woman had taken out most of her stuff when the glint of Natalie's red knife caught her eye. She put the bag down and took the knife out, studying the worn out writing on the blade. "Fire department, huh?" The woman inquired with a raspy, but surprisingly gentle, voice.
"I-I.. My f-friend gave it to me.." Natalie responded, stuttering out of sheer nervousness.
The male became weary. "Friend? Are they here?" He asked, looking around.
"N-No, I'm alone.. She's d-dead.."
"Not as surprising as it should be nowadays," the woman responded, seemingly more lenient. "I think," she smirked, "I'll have to hold onto this knife for ya, though."
"B-but.." Natalie started.
The woman interrupted, "Sky, put your gun down; she's defenseless."
"You're sure, sis?"
"Yeah." She turned to Natalie, holding the knife up and seemingly mocking her. "You'll come with us just in case." The woman pocketed the knife and instead held onto her gun. "Oh, by the way, I'm Kristen. You?"
"N-Natalie.."
"Okay. Sky, carry her bag; she had some nice stuff in there."
                     Kristen moved Natalie's makeshift barricade. The walkers she had blocked off wandered away by then, but there were more than before wandering the streets. "C'mon, now, you don't want to get eaten alive." She waved Natalie and her brother, whom Natalie would know as Skyler, over to her and exited the store. Natalie was ushered along by Skyler, right behind Kristen, who lead them to a run-down tower, with a wooden board loosely covering a hole in the side of a wall. Yes, this was indeed how Natalie's life went to hell.