I walked home from the theater after watching a movie with my ex-boyfriend since my father wanted me to get out of the house from time to time. I started to walk to the bike rack not bothering to wait to see if he wanted to give me a ride. Plus it's not like I wanted to even get in a car with his drunk butt, he was just barely sixteen and I was only fifteen. He wasn't even supposed to have Alcohol yet, and yet he was, and driving. I was surprised that he hasn't gotten into a crash yet, or been killed because of his stupidity. 

"Hey Kara why don't I give you a ride home" he touched my shoulder and the smell of his beer infused breath wafted into my nose. I turned to face him before slapping him on the face, making a loud crack, and causing the people getting out of the theater to look at us with wide eyes and looks of pure shock. 

"No I am not going to let you drive me anywhere, especially not after that little trick you tried in the theater!" I yelled remembering the feel of his lips against mine in a futile attempt at seducing me. Josh looked around nervously before backing up rubbing his cheek. 

"You don't have to yell" he said and I stepped towards him and poked his chest accusingly.

"Oh I have to yell because otherwise you might try something even more stupid than you did in that theater" I said and left him standing there in shock and then he growled and I heard his steps walking away. I didn't bother to look behind me as I got over to the spot I had locked up my bike, only to see a person looking at it. Standing almost motionless next to it. I put my hand in my pocket and gripped my switchblade just in case he was a crazy guy that was stalking me, or trying to do something even worse. 

"Hey what do you think you're doing by my bike" I said and he lifted a hand and awkwardly put it on the handle, and I growled in frustration before bringing my knife out and there was a small click as the blade flipped out "are you deaf? I said get away from my bike" I grabbed his shoulder and flipped him around only to be met with an ugly face that was all chewed up as if he got into an attack with another person. His arms had long jagged cuts like dull claws, or nails, and his face was a melted mess of black puss, hanging halfway off of his face. He grabbed my arm and instinctively I pushed him away making him, or it, fall to the ground with a loud ripping sound and I looked down at my arm and saw that his had ripped off entirely. His hand was tightly gripped around my arm, like a wielded steel bar wrapped in a circle. I felt something grab my leg and I shook my head as I saw his mouth open and come toward my calf. 

"Oh no you don't" I said and tried to kick him away but his hand was already wrapped around my ankle holding it into place as he bit down, hard. I screamed and brought my knife down into his head before shaking off his limp body and ripping his hand from my ankle, and then tore the one from my arm and threw it beside his body. I sat down and pulled up my pant leg to see a large mouth mark on my leg with the incisors and canines having gotten deep into my calf. I reached down and pulled out a sharp bloody tooth still stuck into my leg before dropping it and pulling my pant leg down. I saw that he had somehow bitten through the fabric and torn it away to bite into my leg. I hissed in pain and anger before getting up again and kicking his face with my good foot making it sink into the head like a rotten pumpkin, and that searing pain flared up in my bad leg again. I fell backwards with a yell of pain clutching my injured leg before cursing myself for doing that stupid and reckless outburst of unnecessary anger. 

"I just had to see that stupid zombie movie huh" I scolded myself and then I looked at my knife lodged into the mushy head of the now dead man in disgust before deciding to just leave it. I slowly stood and saw that he did have a belt. I went over and tore it from his pants, and then, sitting down again on the bike rack's lower bar, tightened it against my leg hissing in pain as it cut off my blood flow and gave me a little more pain.

Then I undid the lock of my bike and rode best I could back home wondering why I only saw one zombie-like person in the midst of crowds, cars, and noise. When I was there I thanked God that my father wasn't there due to him working and I went to the bathroom. I grabbed the first aid kit, gauze, tape, and peroxide before putting my leg over the tub and pouring the peroxide over the bite quickly clenching my teeth and silently screaming in pain as I felt the burning pain as it cleaned the wound. Then I grabbed the gauze and undid the belt sighing in slight relief as that pain was taken away. Then I cleaned, disinfected, and wrapped the wound before sealing it with tape and putting everything away, washing the tub of blood, and going to my room and changing. Then I went into the kitchen, cleaned up the mess of blood that I made on my little trek through the house, looked at the stairs, which were stained with blood as well, but I couldn't get that out quickly, and then I went over and grabbed the little note on the fridge:

Had to leave for a work trip, will be back soon

--Dad

I crumpled it up in slight anger before throwing it away and hobbling over to the phone, I picked it up and heard that it was dead, but the cord was plugged in to the line, and that was confusing. I went back to my room before turning on the radio and going to the airport's signal and I waited for a while until I heard the Arizona plane had already taken off. I sighed again knowing that my father was safe and in the air...hopefully, and I really didn't want to think about the fact that there could be zombie-like people on the plane with him. I turned off the radio and went onto my bed and turned on the TV going to the news channel. 

I saw a reporter on streets filled with yelling and screaming people, and she said to go home and barricade everything before she was tackled to the ground by a running form, the camera was splattered with red liquid, and then the live feed fuzzed out. When the main station didn't come back on I turned off the TV and put a chair in-front of the door. I screamed in pain as my leg started to throb and I looked down and saw that the gauze and the entire area had began to turn black. I took the chair off from the door and quickly went to basement where the rifle, it's ammo, and a machete lay against the far side wall. Then I turned around and limped back to my room gritting my teeth in pain and on the way I grabbed some bottles and a needle and syringe too. Then I put the rifle and ammo on my bed before putting the chair back in it's place in-front of the door and falling to the floor, and I grabbed the first bottle and filled the syringe before stabbing it into my leg due to my hesitation with needles and putting the drug into my system. Then I had to wait for ten minutes or so for it to work, so I grabbed the machete and then I heard a hissing sound coming from under my bed. I crawled under to find out what the noise was and I pulled the sheets away from the walls and found out that the vent was hissing, and that wasn't normal. 

I took a quick breath from shock and tried to crawl out from my bed, and I was almost out when I started to get slow and drowsy. I checked my watch and saw that three or so minutes had passed and my heart filled with fear as I felt the drug starting to affect my mind. I looked at the bottle and saw that it was a sleeping drug, and I was getting too drowsy to swear at my stupidity. My hand felt the fresh air of the outside of the bed, but as I tried to pull myself out with my hands. My body started to feel sluggish and the darkness of under the bed was overtaking my vision blocking out the light of the room and then my body shut down and I lay paralyzed on the carpet just under my bed, and the last thing I heard was the hissing of the vent before the sound of it got gradually louder and the darkness overtook my vision.