the dead among us

I would like to begin by making a statement: those of you who believe that the living dead are just fictional stories or frightening images created by Hollywood to entertain are wrong. Thinking in that manner will only prevent you from being able to save yourself when it all finally erupts. How do I know that zombies are in fact real? That is something I learned a few years earlier when I was only 17. I remember that night, it was like a nightmare. It was summer time probably around 8:45 PM EST the sun had just disappeared behind the trees. I was fishing off a small bank with my father and younger brother. We fired up the lantern as darkness engulfed us. A short while later we heard a noise coming from the pathway behind us. As the sound grew closer I remember hearing the distinct sound of moaning. Not in a way I had ever heard before it was eerie sounding and sent chills up and down my spine. I wouldn’t have admitted it then but I felt afraid. Our attention was fixed on the path as the moaning grew louder it was coming closer. Emerging from the shadows was a man covered in tattered bloody rags. His skin was broken and cracked his mouth hung gaping. Snapping incessantly at the sight of us. My father rose to offer help and as he did the creature staggered forward. What I saw next has stayed with me and probably always will this mans entire body was torn and beaten. I could see inside of this man his intestines hung by his feet and yet he still stood. I wanted to cry out to my father but I was paralyzed with fear and my mouth clammed up all I could do was mutter. I remember my father looking back at me he saw the fear in my eyes but it was already to late. The creature lurched forward and grabbed my father taking a bite out of his left shoulder he cried in agony and with a quick thrust knocked the beast backwards. My father then stumbled backwards and fell down clutching his shoulder. The sight was gruesome. I couldn’t believe such a large chunk of flesh could just be bitten off of another human being like that. The thoughts in my mind were all ready racing. This thing was dead, a zombie but not like in the movies this was real. I could barely breath I was shaking so bad. I dropped down to my knees to help my father. It was then that my little brother moved towards the creature that was still struggling to pick itself back up. Before I could tell him not to get to close the beast grabbed a hold of him and pulled him down. I heard my brother scream and grabbed for him. I managed to pull him from the grips of the creature but not before it had bit him several times on the leg. With both my brother and father wounded and I was left completely alone. I saw the creature roll to one side and begin to rise again. I picked up a flash light and my fathers hunting knife and prepared myself to attack. As it rose up I saw it’s intestines had gotten caught on a log but this did not seem to deter or bother it in anyway. It just moved forward and as it did everything was pulled from inside it’s body. The sight along with smell was enough to make me vomit. I did my best to regain my composure and as the creature limped towards me I drove the knife into it’s eye. The moaning ceased and so did the creatures movement. I breathed a sigh of relief but only for a moment my father was still injured as was my brother. Since I could not carry them I took the car keys and told my father and brother I was going to go get help. When I got to the car I reached for the cell phone and called the police. Upon there arrival the CDC was notified and I was taken into quarantine. I never saw my brother or father again, and I spent the next year in a hospital for those suffering from post traumatic stress. The official explanation I was given is that my father and brother died in a car accident on the way to go fishing that night and the entire story was a hellish nightmare I had while unconscious. I do not believe them not even after seeing pictures of my father’s wrecked car. I know what happened that night and every night since I’ve been ever vigilante waiting for the next time the living dead attack.