Phase One: Identify (Territory of the Dead) Read Online Free
Author: Rose Wynters
around us was dead, walking but no longer living. That spark inside of us that makes us human would be blotted out forever, with nothing but darkness and a taste for flesh left behind.
I knew beyond a shadow of doubt that silence would mean the end of humanity.
We made it up the steps and into the house. Dad glared at me over his shoulder as the doorknob turned easily, but I just shrugged. What did he expect me to do? There was no way I'd walk out and not leave a way to get back in fast.
He led Jayden to the recliner and helped him into it, before turning on the table lamp. Jayden's eyes were wide and unblinking, but tears were slowly trailing down his cheeks. I felt sad and helpless inside, and I didn't know what to say to make it better. Nothing that entered into my mind felt quite right.
Dad went back and locked the door, before taking the gun from my numb fingers. I released it with a big sigh and sat down on the couch. “Let's see if the news is on,” I suggested quietly. I was desperate to see and hear what was going on out there, in the areas we couldn't see.
My mom walked quietly to the other recliner and sank down into it. I was happy to see that some of the color was returning to her cheeks, and she was starting to actually blink again. Somewhere in her mind, she must have put the events in the proper place. Mom was like that. She could be counted on to always have a quick rebound.
Dad pulled the heavy draperies together, and grabbed the remote from the table before sitting down next to me. I was relieved to see a face come on the TV when he turned it on. Secretly I'd been worried it wouldn't work, and we'd be completely cut off from the rest of the world.
A reporter I hadn't seen before was at our local police station, and it was frantic with activity. Here in Pleasant we weren't the largest of cities, so I wondered where all the people had come from. Then I realized they weren't police officers. These were residents, looking for protection.
The reporter looked to be somewhere around his early 30's. His handsome face was pale and drawn, his expression frantic. It was soon apparent he wasn't working from any type of script, as he addressed the viewers that were watching. “The police department is urging residents to stay inside and lock your doors, and stay away from what people are classifying as zombies.”
Somebody cried out loudly in the background, but the reporter continued, “Police have no idea what what the death toll is. Numerous attacks have been reported. Do not get close to anyone that appears to be injured in anyway.”
A woman moved in front of the camera, pushing the reporter out of the way with her body, before grabbing the microphone from his slack grip. Her face was pale, but her dark eyes were filled with determination as she stared into the lens. She got right to the point.
“Don't let this reporter sugarcoat this with his evasions. There are dead people walking out there, and they are fast, deadly, and supernaturally strong. There is a name for them, one we've heard before but thought was only fiction. These dead people are zombies, and they don't care about nothing but getting their teeth into your flesh.”
The reporter tried to grab the microphone back, but she shot him a deadly look. “You're not getting this till I'm done,” she told him in a firm voice. “I'm not gonna stand by while you get your five seconds of fame and leave these innocent people out there to die. People deserve to know what they are up against, and how to protect themselves. Now back off.” Surprisingly, he stood still and listened.
She turned back to the camera. “I know there are some of you out there that don't believe in this. You wanna box it all up, neat and tidy-like, and believe that there must be some rational explanation for this, and come morning it will all be gone. If you believe that though, you're going to find yourself dead
I knew beyond a shadow of doubt that silence would mean the end of humanity.
We made it up the steps and into the house. Dad glared at me over his shoulder as the doorknob turned easily, but I just shrugged. What did he expect me to do? There was no way I'd walk out and not leave a way to get back in fast.
He led Jayden to the recliner and helped him into it, before turning on the table lamp. Jayden's eyes were wide and unblinking, but tears were slowly trailing down his cheeks. I felt sad and helpless inside, and I didn't know what to say to make it better. Nothing that entered into my mind felt quite right.
Dad went back and locked the door, before taking the gun from my numb fingers. I released it with a big sigh and sat down on the couch. “Let's see if the news is on,” I suggested quietly. I was desperate to see and hear what was going on out there, in the areas we couldn't see.
My mom walked quietly to the other recliner and sank down into it. I was happy to see that some of the color was returning to her cheeks, and she was starting to actually blink again. Somewhere in her mind, she must have put the events in the proper place. Mom was like that. She could be counted on to always have a quick rebound.
Dad pulled the heavy draperies together, and grabbed the remote from the table before sitting down next to me. I was relieved to see a face come on the TV when he turned it on. Secretly I'd been worried it wouldn't work, and we'd be completely cut off from the rest of the world.
A reporter I hadn't seen before was at our local police station, and it was frantic with activity. Here in Pleasant we weren't the largest of cities, so I wondered where all the people had come from. Then I realized they weren't police officers. These were residents, looking for protection.
The reporter looked to be somewhere around his early 30's. His handsome face was pale and drawn, his expression frantic. It was soon apparent he wasn't working from any type of script, as he addressed the viewers that were watching. “The police department is urging residents to stay inside and lock your doors, and stay away from what people are classifying as zombies.”
Somebody cried out loudly in the background, but the reporter continued, “Police have no idea what what the death toll is. Numerous attacks have been reported. Do not get close to anyone that appears to be injured in anyway.”
A woman moved in front of the camera, pushing the reporter out of the way with her body, before grabbing the microphone from his slack grip. Her face was pale, but her dark eyes were filled with determination as she stared into the lens. She got right to the point.
“Don't let this reporter sugarcoat this with his evasions. There are dead people walking out there, and they are fast, deadly, and supernaturally strong. There is a name for them, one we've heard before but thought was only fiction. These dead people are zombies, and they don't care about nothing but getting their teeth into your flesh.”
The reporter tried to grab the microphone back, but she shot him a deadly look. “You're not getting this till I'm done,” she told him in a firm voice. “I'm not gonna stand by while you get your five seconds of fame and leave these innocent people out there to die. People deserve to know what they are up against, and how to protect themselves. Now back off.” Surprisingly, he stood still and listened.
She turned back to the camera. “I know there are some of you out there that don't believe in this. You wanna box it all up, neat and tidy-like, and believe that there must be some rational explanation for this, and come morning it will all be gone. If you believe that though, you're going to find yourself dead
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