Rule number one for surviving in a zombie apocalypse:

DO NOT GET BITTEN, EVEN IF SIMON SAYS SO.

And that was the exact thing I did. I got myself bitten. To make matters worse, I got myself bitten not once but twice! If doom had a face I am certain it would look very similar to me.

Ah right, let's rewind a little bit...back to the time before everything went to hell.

2 weeks ago

News of major unrest in the Orion district lit up the screens in our common room. The Emperor had increased taxes and those who failed to comply would witness the skies above their district ablaze with weapons of destruction.

A decade ago, this would have sent shivers down our spines and made our skins crawl in fear. But now, slurping on our hot M&N noodles, we competed to list down all the conditions imposed by the Emperor, as though mastering the rules of a sinister game.

Tax, soldiers and curfews were the most well known conditions— We called them the Death Trio. Dami— my combat partner and partner in crime— nudged my side and pointed towards the flickering screen.

The screen displayed the ruins of a city. It was a familiar sight, Asteria was the first city to face the emperor's wrath and the only ruined city that was allowed to be broadcast in the media. It looked more like a pile of debris and ash than a city.

Besides the gruelling images was the picture of the city before the bombing, standing tall in all its former glory.

Huge skyscrapers and bridges that once lined the city's streets now lay in a pile of metal and stone. The lights that once adorned the city in hues of silver and gold now lay broken, covered in black soot and dried brown blood.

Censored pictures of half-burnt bodies now lit up the screen, making the temperature in the room drop ten more degrees.

Kass, another classmate, deftly changed the channel to one that blasted music, loud enough to wake up even the dead from their slumber.

That was our cue to leave. After a long and extensive field trip in the outskirts of the city, we found ourselves blessed with a rare day of leave and I definitely did not want to waste it watching the Teli. It appeared that everyone, save for Kass, shared this sentiment, as they hastily downed down their noodles, and got ready to leave the room.

Amid this hurried exodus, the thunderous sound of approaching footsteps echoed. A moment later, the common room door was flung open.

"They are back!" the girl exclaimed, as a smile lit up her face. Without delay she dashed off to relay the message to the others, her joyous shouts echoing down the hallway.

The 'they' she referred to could only mean one set of people. Dami and I looked at each other and rushed out, dashing through the hallway, and down the flight of stairs, taking two at a time until we finally reached the grass court adjoining our block.

There was a huge crowd of students already gathered around the 12 of them as we arrived.

Every year it was mandatory for each district to send young soldiers to fight the ongoing war with our neighboring country Neios. The soldiers were enlisted as per the Emperor's order and this was one of the conditions to avoid being subjected to bombings.

After the age of 20, the names of each individual are registered in the WarLot and on the 22nd July of every year 20 names from each district are drawn. These twenty individuals from each district were required to enlist in the army.

Dami and I barely made it past the excited crowd and into the forefront of the gathering.

Twelve soldiers donned in crisp black army uniforms stood talking to the crowd animatedly. Adorned with commendations and badges signifying the end of their pre-training period, the 12 exuded an aura of professionalism to the general public.

But here, amidst their comrades, one could discern a more joyous and unguarded aspect of their personalities.

A fellow female soldier with blonde hair, engaged in a lively conversation with a male comrade— his back facing us. But the tuft of shaggy white hair was enough to make out who it was. I waved at Lydia the blonde soldier as our eyes met and she smiled as she waved back.

"Cezar!" I exclaimed as he turned his head to look at who she was waving. Our eyes locked and before we knew it, we were tackled into a warm hug.

"Valeria! Damini!" the way he said our names was enough to tell he missed us just as much as we missed him.

"Still alive I see" I teased.

Dami giggled as Cezar playfully put me in a headlock."Ouch, ouch ok let go, you win." I punched his arm as he let go and quickly hid behind Dami, using her as a shield.

Dami's lips turned up into a playful smile. It had been a whole year since we had met each other and today was the day when they had their long-awaited leave, after the end of their pre-training period.

The rest of the 8 (apart from the 12) enlisted, belonged to different institutes and would be enjoying their leaves in their own Institutes or homes depending on their age and preference.

It was a ritual for Vigils to visit the institute as soon as their pre-training program ended, after which they were free to visit their family till the end of their leaves. Cezar had been my combat partner and senior before he was drafted and Dami replaced him as my partner.

My mind was teeming with questions about their time in the military, especially about Cezar. He looked the same as before. No noticeable tan lines, which were common among those stationed near the central and border areas. 

His hair was longer than his fellow soldiers, subtle distinctions that a trained eye could pick up on if they paid close attention. But his pre-training batch shone brightly under the sun. If he had indeed completed his training, then where in the world was he deployed? Special forces? Did they even take young ducklings like us?

While hidden behind Dami, I felt a tinge of sadness in the air and carefully looked at Cezar. His face held a wide smile but his eyes didn't twinkle with the same mischief it usually did, they seemed dimmed, as though his presence lingered elsewhere, a mere spectre of his usual self. It was then I realized that I had counted wrong. 

There were 11 of them in our midst. Not 12.

It seemed everyone around realized the same as the air became quiet."Glen" A girl called out. "Where is Glen?!" She shook the shoulders of a pale, muscular blonde soldier. He opened his mouth to speak but then closed it shut and looked to the ground as the girl continued shaking him, demanding answers. Judging by her uniform she was in the same Squadron as "Glen". 

Glen must have been her old combat partner just like Cezar was mine. Her squadron mates pulled her apart from the boy as her eyes glistened with tears."He's on his way right?" She turned towards the rest of the 11. "He's always tardy that idiot." she says as she wipes her tears.

Abruptly, a gunshot shattered the stillness, resonating through the air, followed by the rhythmic beats of hooves clapping on the ground. Soon a driverless black horse emerged from the front. The sound of soft sniffles filled the air as the horse drew closer. Attached to the horse was a simple chariot bearing a solemn cargo — a coffin.

Tears streamed down the girl's face unabated, her squadron mates embraced her, bearing the same sorrow.

The 12th soldier had finally arrived and indeed he was tardy, even in death.

*** 

As part of Vigil's Customs, the family members of the martyred soldiers were immediately called in. A small funeral would be held in Vigil grounds after which the body along with family members would be flown into their home town.

It was seldom that those who were drafted all returned unharmed or alive. But in the rare cases they did, an unofficial party would be hosted for all to attend.

I still remember last year's Drafting day. It was a national holiday and a day to dread for all individuals registered in the WarLot. The choosing of the drafted individuals took place within the capital's guarded walls and was broadcast live on all forms of media. It was the day when we all huddled together, our eyes glued to the screens. With sweaty hands and bated breath, we would wait for the announcement of the draft.

The process of selecting the candidates itself was a meticulously and complexly crafted algorithm, the workings of which very few individuals in the Empire are aware of. 

The Drafting event would start with a short speech from the Emperor followed by the Empress. Next, there would be a parade for those who had finished their serving period which included Air shows, showing off Valdia's latest fighter jets. Finally, the main event that everyone would be dreading would come up. The algorithm would be shown to run on screen and one by one would start spitting out names from each district Along with the pictures and ages of the individuals.

These drafted soldiers would be required to show up at the capital in 3 days time or risk getting their district bombed. Once I read about a man who had tried escaping to the neighbouring country but was caught on the way. Not by soldiers but by civilians, As soon as an individual is drafted, not only is the district at the risk of destruction but the individual themselves have a bounty on their head. Kill or be killed. That was how we functioned.

The world had become cruel and the people crueler. 

After all, humans are quick to adapt, no matter the situation.

***

A/N

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