[edited]
Getting out of the city wasn't easy. Everywhere I went there were either murderous people or biters. Throughout the day I ran, jogged, crouched, jumped, but never walked. Only a fool would walk during the apocalypse. As I walked, trying to get out of the city and reach the woods, I was able to hear all the screams of fear or agony. They didn't bother me at all. I felt nothing. It was weird That I was able to tune everything out. The only things on my mind were me, the zombies , and my gun. There was no room for another person, and there was no room for any heroic acts. In my mind, the only thing that was important was me. To most, this statement  would seem selfish, but for me it was just survival. My mind set was that if I did help a person, wether that person was being attacked by Berserkers, the crazy people going on killing sprees (I decided to give them a name), or just being attacked by a regular biter, I would only get myself killed, or more realistically, injured. That would leave me vulnerable. It didn't seem logical to me, so I ignored the screams and treaded on.

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It took almost the whole day to get to the highway leading out of the city and it took the rest to look for supplies in the cars left behind. I was only able to get a few useful things: a flashlight, multiple boxes of matches, another gun, a knife, some food, and I even scored a campers pack which was extremely useful considering the fact that I was heading to the nearby forest. The sun was leaving the sky by the time I finally reached my destination. I didn't light a fire cause I knew that it would only attract unnecessary attention. I did, however, leave the flashlight at arms length just in case I heard something coming towards me. I also didn't sleep because I knew that the horrors of what the world had become would only keep me awake.

In the distance I saw the orange light from the fires that were ruining what used to be Atlanta. I was still able to hear the screams of the people left behind. They weren't able to save themselves and they had no one to save them. They were hopeless humans with nothing left to do but scream in agony. Sometimes, I found myself wondering what it was like to look at deaths face. I wondered what happened after you die and if surviving was even worth the pain and suffering. It was these thoughts that kept me going, because only a weak man would think these things, and I did not want to be weak.

The second the sun peaked over the horizon, I gathered my things and went deeper into the woods. I walked with no destination, yet somehow, I was heading in the exact direction that I needed to take.
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The sun was relentless. Three days without changing and my shirt was already soaked with sweat. Those were the times that I missed showering more than anything. It was ironic though, because before shit hit the fan, it would take me days to actually get in the shower. I always had some sort of vendetta against water. I Never knew why, but after the apocalypse came upon us, water was my best friend. Like I said before, Ironic.

After a few days I  got pretty far from the city. I had no idea where I was. The only thing I was  going on was my gut, and after awhile of walking my gut was telling me that I need a fucking break. One thing I had always disliked in my youth was walking, jogging, and using my legs in general. I especially disliked doing it in the heat. The end of the world pretty much forced using my legs in the heat to be the only activity I was able to do. Life really has a weird way of fucking with you.

Being extremely tired, I set my things on the ground and leaned on the nearest tree. My legs had been killing me since I reached the woods; however, one thing I  learned in apocalypse 101, was that zombies didn't care if your legs hurt, they would eat you alive even if you were lying on the floor. That was the reason I took few breaks. I knew that if I ever let my guard down I'd be the next meal for the zombies.

Besides the heat, the day had actually been nice: clouds painted the sky, a soft breeze was blowing through the trees, the birds were chirping. If circumstances were better, I probably would have enjoyed the day. My life before was never the greatest, but I did appreciate the nice days and tried my best to take advantage of them. My favorite past time was to sit at a park and just enjoy seeing people interact with one another. They were always happiest when the days were beautiful; however, after awhile of spending my time there, I was just reminded that I would never be able to live a happy life-not without my parents. It was terribly depressing.

After a few moments of peace, I let my guard down and a biter came out of nowhere, out of all the moments it had to choose when I was resting. I was pretty sure the universe hated me. I immediately sprang into action. I quickly pushed it backward and as it struggled to get back up, I grabbed my pack and dug through it to find a knife, but before I could even get to it the zombie's growls came to a stop. As I turned to see what happened, I saw an arrow protruding from its skull. The owner of said arrow happened to be on my right, and he was accompanied by a lanky man with a sheriff's hat.

"Who the fuck are you?" I asked, because that was really the only question that ran through my mind.

"Ain't you gon' say 'thank ya'? I did save yer life!" The redneck exclaimed.

At the time, this man really got on my fucking nerves, but later he becomes my best friend in a time when I had no one.

I know I could have done better, but I got lazy. Either way, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. Bye Lovelies!!!