Apocalypse
Monica's POV

Our lives...

They are surrounded by death, blood, tears, and suffering.

Lots and lots of suffering...

***

"It's better to keep going," Tony, was saying quietly. "I just don't think it's a good idea to stop here right now..." He waved at the buildings around us.

She understood what Tony meant and how he felt, and she didn't want to be in this place any more than he did. They had only been walking in the town for five minutes, with no sign of danger, yet there was still an uneasy vibe blanketing the town. It was too... quiet.

"I have to say, I agree with Tony," She said apologetically, shifting the backpack that was over her shoulder. "I'd love to call it a night, but I think moving along is our best option."

"See! Even Monica is agreeing with me, David!" Tony hissed.

"Monica, you traitor! You're my best friend, you're supposed to side with me on everything!" David said to her, throwing his hands up in the air.

She shrugged and bit her lip. "I'm sorry?"

"All of you--be quiet! You're going to draw them to us!" Heather hissed, the first person to join David and her on their journey, was looking back and forth carefully as they walked briskly down the road. She was almost constantly on watch for danger. She was kind and usually very calm, making her a useful and loved companion.

Tony stepped closer to Heather. In the one month he'd been with everyone in their group, he'd become fond of her the most. He was always beside her and he trusted and believed in everything she said. It was more than just platonic feelings, and she could tell Heather liked him too.

"You agree with me too, right?" Tony asked her.

"Yes, Tony," She squeezed his arm gently and looked up at him endearingly. "Of course I do."

"I don't," Mikhail said. He was the last member of our group, and the quietest and strongest. He was twirling a knife around in his hands, not caring about the injuries he could possibly give himself. "We should rest for the night. We can handle whatever people-eaters come out to play." He demonstrated by flipping his knife threateningly.

"I wish you'd stop calling them people-eaters. It's more terrifying than just calling them "zombies". She said with a roll of her eyes, now annoyed.

"What we call them shouldn't be what's terrifying. It should be the skin on their faces--all decayed and falling off their bodies..." David said in a spooky voice. He got in her face and made an awful impression of a zombie walking, the noises he made an even worse replication.

"Knock it off, you retard." She swatted him away, giggling a little. She ruffled his dark, chocolate brown hair. He smiled at her and returned back to his original posture.

"David, you're going to get us killed with your idiocy," Tony huffed.

David scowled and looked as if he might tell him off, but he bit it back. Instead he said, "Can we at least take a small break then? We have been walking nonstop for hours."

"Now that, I agree with." She said with a sigh, her feet suddenly beginning to throb. she had been ignoring the pain, but now that David mentioned how long they had walked for, she was feeling the full effects.

"Okay, we'll stop," Heather agreed. "Take five."

She and David sat down beside each other on the ground with equal sighs of relief. Tony sat down on the small lawn of a house. Mikhail and Heather remained standing, keeping a watchful eye.

They had been resting for less then a minute before they sensed the danger they were in. Tony stood up just as pounding ensued on the door of the house behind him. The door was loosely barricaded, leaving enough room for a few scrambling decayed hands to push through the crack of the partially open door.

"Tony!" Heather hissed, "Get away from there!"

More decayed hands came through the small holes in the glass of the windows and clawed the air, reaching. Some of their wrists were slightly severed and hung in gross flaps, having been cut by the glass. A few grotesque moans and growls erupted and then grew louder as even more joined in.

How many of them were in that house? A dozen? Two dozen? How did they not notice this sooner?

Everything was happening so fast. The weak window began to shatter, making way for more hideous hands. Tony moved away and backed up to join us just as one side of the window collapsed, the force causing a zombie to come tumbling out. It began to stand up.

Tony reached for the pistol in it's holster at his side. He fired it, the bullet entering directly into the brain of the zombie. With a spray of blood, it crumpled to the ground.

"Come on! Let's go!" David called out to him. She was still on the ground, but David was already on his feet and he quickly reached down to tug her up as he went by.

The undead were pouring out now. With Mikhail leading the way, and Tony trailing in the back, we ran down the road. The noise of the shot Tony fired off and their yelling would've drew zombies to their location. They had to get out.

Now.

A few zombies were staggering out from behind the houses as they ran by. There would soon be a huge crowd of them chasing them. And they might be ahead of them now, but eventually they would grow too tired to keep running.

Tony twisted around and fired behind us at more zombies.

"Dude, you're going to get us all killed! Stop!" David hissed at him.

"If we don't shoot them, we'll probably die anyway!" Tony hissed right back.

"But you're going to draw in more than you're killing!" David protested.

Ahead of them, two more of the undead came into their path, one from either side. They stopped for a few seconds, Mikhail taking one and quickly finishing it off, David taking the other. The hairs on her neck stood up as it's teeth snapped together loudly, trying to reach David's pale flesh. With one fluid motion of the knife to the brain, it's mouth became still and silent. She breathed a sigh of relief. 

They took off again, the horde of snarling zombies even closer now. Carefully, they zig-zagged between the rows of houses, trying to lose them. After passing the back edge of one of the houses, they faltered, three more zombies up ahead. One of the undead was many feet behind the others.

Heather had taken up a spot next to Mikhail. They both ran in the direction of their respected targets--the ones in front. Tony had stopped firing shots and kept glancing behind them in fear.

Heather yelled out. The zombie had knocked her down and they were struggling on the ground, the zombie gnashing it's teeth near her neck. Mikhail was already busy with the zombie in the back and was unable to help her.

"Heather!" Tony yelled. He took a step forward to help, but David was already in action. He came up behind them and stabbed the monster in the head. It fell on top of her, it's face near hers, and she quickly shoved it aside and struggled to her feet, a sickened look on her face.

"Thank you," she said breathless, her hands on her knees. She, David, and Mikhail were covered in small splatters of blood.

They could hear the undead close behind us now. Too close. In our worry for Heather's life, we had forgotten how close they had become. They kept moving forward, trying to distance themselves from the zombies, but didn't get far. We heard a yell and a thump. We turned around to find Tony on the ground, having tripped over his loose shoelace. He was stirring on the ground, shaking off the shock of the fall. He was beginning to stand up, but they were surrounding him. He began to fight them off the best he could, trying to work his way to us, but there were too many. 

Her knife in her hand, she rushed back to help him, her heart pounding hard in her chest. But someone caught hold of her backpack and held her back. David.

"Let go--" She tried shrugging him off, but she realized it too: Tony had already been bitten. No. Please.... No, not another person. 

"Tony!" Heather shrieked, hitting Mikhail hard with her fists. "Stop! Let me go!" Mikhail had his arms around her, preventing her from running to him.

"Stop screaming and struggling!" he said to her. He was beginning to haul her away from the scene as fast as he could, her body still flailing and kicking.

"No--Tony!" she continued to wail, tears pouring down her face, the screams piercing and guttural. "Tony!"

David was quickly dragging me away too. The undead were fully on top of Tony now. The undead were clawing and biting into his flesh. Thick, dark blood coated their fingers and around their mouths, dribbling off their chins. Flesh hung from the corners of their mouths. Blood spurted and gushed from the side of Tony's neck where a chunk of his flesh had been violently ripped off.

"Please, help me!" He looked at them with begging and tearful eyes. His face was full of pain and fear. She squeezed her eyes shut so tightly that it almost hurt. His bloodcurdling screams pierced the air and sliced her heart open.

There was nothing any of them could do, so she covered her ears, turned, and ran. But nothing could block out the horrible sounds of the munching, of the tearing, of the screams. It was always going to be hard to hear the screams...

***

He was the first in their group to suffer and die. But he wasn't the first person she cared about to have died. And he wasn't going to be the last...