A story of two survivors in a zombie apocalypse constantly searching for other survivors in a small town in Canada, Ontario. Memory flash backs are constantly in our hero’s mind.

*Smash!Scratch! smash!*

The sound of a terrifying end is smashing and scratching at my door. As I hold them back with my foot pressed against the bottom of the staircase and my back against the door. I am wedged very well, but I can do nothing else. My girl friend Jessica stands at the ready with a Handgun, she firmly grips it with both her hands. Pointing and ready for whatever comes through that door.

This is the last thing that anyone wants to hear. Final burst of shots coming from a building and than silence. The Gun Cry… This is what I have learned to call that final moment. A last attempt in survival before the end.

*Time pauses* Flash Back

I remember in Jessica and I’s journey to the city hall where we located a survivor while carefully navigating Main Street. Where it has come to be know as Death’s Leg. We go into hiding in the local public library, which is straight across from the city hall. “This is stupid, it frustrates me that another human is just across the street!” I whisper in anger. “If it weren’t for those damn Sprinters, we would be home free!”. Jessica scans Death’s Leg for Sprinters. *Sprinters are self-explanatory zombies. Very fast and agile undead that can move and turn as quickly as a athlete*. “It looks clear” whispers Jessica.

I step out of the main door of the public library and start to dash across the street. As I hit the half way mark in the middle of the street, I look over my left shoulder and notice something running with me. “Sprinter!” Jessica screams. “No Shit, Einstein!” I dash into the parking lot, quickly moving through the cars and over top cars. I stop and stand near the headlights of a blue car. The Sprinter is at the back wheel quickly moving towards me. I slam the hood of the car with all my might and adrenaline. The hood pops up and the corner of the hood slams the Sprinters face as it raises. A disoriented Sprinter is as good as watching a very intoxicated man trying to navigate a fun house. I take this chance and head into the back door of the city hall. “WAIT!” Jessica screams again. Jessica sprints across the street and moving towards me. “I am so glad for you to join me”.

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