SCARLETT

         SILENCE. A COMPLETE ABSENCE OF SOUND. Silence was something Scarlett Blake had always hoped for the second she had opened her eyes every morning. It had always been such a rare thing for her to receive, considering the normality of her life when living with three younger siblings in a poor environment with an alcoholic father who would smash beer bottles against the ripped up walls of their home for entertainment.

That was never a quiet battle.

Atlanta was also never a quiet environment. The vivid memory of the wild traffic along with the bustling streets that engulfed Atlanta was an unforgettable thing to experience if you happened to live in a small town.

But now, everything was silent, and she hated it.

Sometimes, the occasional car alarm would set off, or a scream of terror would emit from a poor soul who's fate was sealed the second they set foot in the now broken city. But for the most part, it was incredibly quiet. Scarlett had made an attempt to help a few people, but her efforts had always been for nothing as the screaming only ever lasted for a brief moment. She realised the risk that grew each time she had attempted to be a saviour only increased as time went on.

Occasionally, the woman found herself thinking about the fact that the only reason she found herself in the destroyed city was because of her father. There had plans to escape, an idea always invading her mind, whether it be fighting her way out or trying to contact authorities. They were always complete lies that she told herself as currently, she found herself laying quietly in the abandoned clothing store she had occupied the first day of the breakout.

Laying on an awfully uncomfortable sleeping bag with one hand under her head while the other lay resting on her stomach, Scarlett couldn't help but let her mind wander as she stared up at the dusty ceiling. Surprisingly, the moans and groans that emitted from the freaks outside weren't audible from where she lay.

Biting the inside of her cheek as she thought, the metallic taste of blood seeped into her taste buds, averting her back to the reality that she had wished to forget. Hauling herself up, she pat down the clothes that had creased during her sleep. Her sleep schedule was messy, sometimes earning six hours of sleep, other days she gained three. It depended on how safe she had felt throughout the prolonged nights.

Yawning, Scarlett reached for the hairbrush that was placed on the receptionist counter. Her sleeping bag was placed behind the counter to prevent her from being seen if things go south. She began to brush out her brown locks of hair that had knotted throughout the night. Reaching out to take hold of the hair tie, she manoeuvred it into a ponytail. It had been a while since Scarlett had been given the chance to wash her hair, despising the unhygienic feeling. 

Walking around the receptionist desk, she dragged her index finger along the cold counter before reaching the clothing isles that filled up the store. She eyed the clothes that hung on the clothing rack, tracing her finger along the smooth fabrics as she walked down the isle.

Besides going outside to scavenge for materials to keep her alive, the only source of entertainment she had were clothes that were collecting dust. She had already taken a few of the clothes off of the hangers, clothes that were meant for the environment she had now been living in, safety packing them into her backpack in case of an immediate escape.

Although, the time never came.

Her scavenging expeditions were the most exciting part of her day. They were risky, but they gave her hope. A few days into the disaster she had found her car, the door left open with a broken window and ripped up seats. Dried blood stained the front window, a reminder of what could become of her if her expeditions weren't kept to a minimum.

The only items she could find remaining were a hoodie she had originally left in the car, along with the only family photo that Scarlett had ever managed to obtain. She had successfully taken the picture after Joseph won his baseball tournament, joyful expressions plastered on each of their faces as he held the trophy proudly.

Whenever doubt or uncertainty seeped into her mind, she analysed the joyous emotions emitting from both Sierra and Evan, how their cheeks had begun to hurt from the happiness coursing through them. Nowadays, the picture only filled her with worry and guilt for not being with them.

Halting in her scan through the isle she was currently standing in, Scarlett made her towards the windows of the clothing store to look out of the huge stained glass windows. That was the only downside to the store. Thankfully, the freaks didn't spot Scarlett from inside unless she made a noise loud enough for them to hear. Oddly enough, there wasn't a lot of them outside.

Biting her nails in thought, Scarlett made the decision to do her daily alleyway check. From day two of her isolation, she realised that she would need to run around and make sure each alleyway was blocked off to avoid any attacks from the freaks. She had seen what they could do, and it was a thing she never wanted to experience. Normally she would do it much later, but she had awoken early.

Approaching the receptionists desk, Scarlett reached her hand over the desk to grab the hoodie she had found. Despite the warm weather, she was always weary to be careful of scratches of unsuspecting bites. Throwing the hoodie on, she pulled the hood over her head before taking hold of her backpack from the receptionist's desk, swinging it over her shoulder, securing the straps. She then crouched down to tighten the laces on her boots that had been found in the store before making her way towards the door that led outside.

The door led to an opened alleyway which connected to the main street where freaks sometimes tended to be, that was where Scarlett had gained her first kill. The freaks body still laying there as a constant reminder. The woman stared at the mauled up body before sprinting for the alley staircase that led up to an office building.

That was where her trapdoor was. Scarlett pushed through, holding onto one of her bag straps as she reached the door that brought her to the trapdoor she had entered those few weeks ago. Taking hold of each bar carefully, Scarlett took note of the rusting ladder she found herself climbing, the smell of faint rotten corpses coming from the street as she reached the top of the trapdoor hit her immediately. She pushed the trapdoor open to be met with the bright sunlight.

Squinting her eyes to avoid being blinded, she pushed herself up, setting her footing on the roof. Gently, she slowly shut the trapdoor before walking towards the edge of the building to take a look.

The same view as always.

Countless corpses either crawled or slowly walked around the streets, their low groans being heard from where she stood. The smell was the worst part. It was just rotten flesh. She had gotten used to it after a while, but it still lingered.

Making her way towards the ladder, she climbed down. It normally took an hour to make sure most of the alleyways were blocked off. Once in a while she came into contact with one of the dead, to which she either ran or was forced into combat. She had only ever killed three of them things, and each time it had been a close call.

Scarlett walked through the alleyways with caution, holding the straps of her bag tighter, rubbing the fabric for comfort of some sort. The sound of her boots crunching against the rocky ground beneath her was all she could hear. It didn't last long due to the groans and moans that crept their way into her head.

The first gate was in sight. Scarlett approached, letting go of her bag straps. She pulled the lock around to check that it hadn't been pulled at or even chewed on. She had found these locks in an abandoned store during her second week, although they did their job, they weren't as strong.

Pulling on the lock one final time to be sure that it was secure was the last thing Scarlett did before letting go. Turning on her heel to walk towards the next alleyway gate, happy that she hadn't come across anything that she wished she didn't. Her thoughts were interrupted when she saw one of those things walk down the alleyway, right towards her.

"Shit." She mumbled. "Where did you come from?"

Sometimes, Scarlett found herself talking to them to keep her sanity from dropping, needing the reminder of her own voice to keep her in check.

Slowly, she equipped her weapon from the holster that had resided on her hip. The weapon she had found the seventh day of her hiding. An ice climbing pickaxe, it's essential use being to maintain balance or to stop an adventurer from falling to their death. Only now, it's job had been for a completely different purpose.

The store she had found it in was mainly for mountainous adventures, which was completely irrelevant to her situation. Truthfully, the only reason she found herself with the weapon was due to the fact that nobody else had taken it, a mountaineering item not being an ideal form of combat in the apocalypse.

Holding onto the handle, her fingers slowly wrapped themselves around the weapon as she sucked in a breath. Slowly walking towards the geek, she tried not to draw too much attention. It's bruised and bloodied back was facing her, giving her the golden opportunity to strike. Creeping up behind the victim, she held her breath before raising the pick, about to strike. Before she could even land the hit, a gunshot was fired close by. And then another.

"Damn it!" She yelped, jumping back immediately as the freak turned around and extended it's ripped arms out to grab her. Their face was screwed up, nose practically gone with their cheek being torn out. Taking a few steps back, she kept her eyes on the monster the whole time. Her grip on the handle slowly slipping as her palms became sweaty.

Snapping into her senses, Scarlett gained her grip on the handle once again. The freak had moved closer, it's mouth wide open as it itched for her flesh. She raised her leg, kicking the freak in the stomach in an attempt to knock it down.

She didn't imagine there to be much strength in the freak but hunger seemed to be a strong goal. Immediately, it came back from the hit. It's jaw widened to tear into her flesh, the smell of rotten skin wafting back into her. It took all of Scarlett's strength not to gag as she raised the axe and slammed it down into the geeks shoulder.

She internally panicked; it was the head that did the job.

Kicking again with full force, it caused her ice axe to tear the flesh from the thing's shoulder right off as it fell to the ground. She wasted no time stepping onto the geeks arm with her boot to try and stop it from grabbing her.

Without any thought, Scarlett crouched down on her knees before raising the pick up and slammed it into the skull of the freak, continuously jamming the sharp end of her weapon into the thick skull, blood splattering on her clothes with each hit. A sharp sob tore from her as she continued to brutally attack the cracked skull.

It's body went limp, the goal for hunger dissipating. Scarlett just kept going. The cracking of it's skull and her ragged breathing was all she could hear. Blood poured out from under the freak, full proof that it really was gone.

Her mind was then brought back to those gunshots she had heard. Maybe it was military. She was praying in the back of her mind that it was. Scarlett lifted herself up from where she was crouched, taking one good look at what she had caused before wiping the tears that had managed to slip out of her.

Leaving her murder scene behind, Scarlett picked up the pace as she ran through multiple alleyways to get to her original ladder that led up to the trapdoor, her ponytail swinging from side to side continuously as she sprinted.

Finally, the ladder came into view. Gripping onto the rusty bars, she began climbing up as fast as she could. Her heart was pounding. This could be it, this could be her ticket out of this hellhole.

Reaching the top, she pulled herself onto the roof. Wasting no time, she bolted, only moments later reaching the trapdoor. Before her fingers could touch the handle, a sound signalled out from the other side of the trapdoor. A human.

At least that's what she assumed. There had been no suspicious sounds emitting from the other side, and a walker could never make it that far up the steep ladder.

Without thinking, she regained her grip on her pick, ready to slash if she needed to. Although, this was a human, not a decomposing one. The breeze coming from all directions on the roof made the hairs on the back of her neck stand.

From where she stood, the person that would be exiting from the other side wouldn't see her if they climbed out, giving her the golden opportunity. The trapdoor opened fully, and out came a boy.

"Damn it." She heard the mysterious person speak out, taking note of the male voice. Although Scarlett had ran through the multiple alleyways, she held her breath in fear.

After a moment of suspenseful silence, the boy turned around to face Scarlett. His eyes widened, and so did hers.

"Not dead! Not dead!" He repeated, holding his hands up in panic. He was an asian boy, from the looks of it he seemed to be young, early 20s. He wore an orange and red baseball cap along with a plaided shirt. Scarlett had noticed the green backpack he was wearing when he exited from the trapdoor.

"I can see that!" Scarlett managed to spit out. The weeks she spent alone hadn't prepared her for human confrontation, especially when it wasn't planned.

The boy gulped, looking at the bloodied pick she held in her right hand. "I'm not going to do anything." His hands were still raised, as if she was going to pull out a gun and shoot him. "I swear."

Scarlett opened her mouth to say something, but was interrupted by gunshots, continuous gunshots. The same gunshots from before. They were emitting from the street down below. From where Scarlett and the unknown boy stood, they couldn't see who was firing due to the height of the building.

Turning back to look at the boy, she realised he was stood in the exact same position, except he too was staring at where the gunshots were emitting from before averting his eyes back to hers. "Listen," He gulped, looking at the ice pick once again before returning to her gaze, "That very well could be our ticket out of here, it's a cop, military, whatever."

As Baseball Boy spluttered out random words in a panic, Scarlett dropped the pick to her side, sighing deeply. He wasn't a threat, he was a kid. More shots fired out. Scarlett hadn't realised how much of an increase in volume the freaks had reached. It sounded like there had been at least hundreds on the street chasing the next victim.

Baseball Boy sprinted to the edge of the roof, placing his left hand on the concrete ledge. "Oh god."

Wearily, Scarlett approached the ledge to see what he was seeing. Confusion took over her as she approached, questions piling in her head. Where had he come from? Was the loneliness slowly driving her insane, causing her to imagine people?

"Rest in peace, Artax." The boy muttered under his breath, causing her to pick up on the inside joke as she connected the dots with what she was seeing down below.

Below them on the road lay a horse, a dead horse. It was being devoured by blood thirsty freaks. They picked apart the horse like it was nothing, eating whatever they could get their slimy fingernails on.

"There." He pointed, the direction he pointed in landing on a tank. Scarlett could recall the shots that emitted from it a few days into the event. "He must have went in there, look at the geeks surrounding it."

He was right. Multiple geeks were crowded around the tank like a feast was about to be served, which very well could be the case if they didn't act quickly.

"You're positive?" Scarlett asked, although she didn't doubt his speculation. Scarlett noticed how he tensed up the moment she spoke. There was no reason to blame him for that, she hadn't exactly been welcoming to him.

"Yeah," He responded, raising the walkie talkie that he had been holding. "You know anything about tanks?"

Silence lingered between the two as the geeks groaned and devoured. The boy nodded, taking the silence as an immediate no. She had no clue.

"Okay," He brought the walkie talkie to his mouth, "I read an article about tanks once." Clicking on the side of the walkie talkie, Baseball Boy spoke.

"Hey, you in the tank. Cozy in there?"

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there we have it!! chapter one!
i know it isn't much, but i promise you that
your favourite characters will make an appearance soon