As I am sure you have no doubt deduced that this Novel is about the living dead. As a writer i feel it is my responsibility to warn you that this may be considered slightly disturbing to some readers. All that being said, I hope you enjoy this. I have several chapters already written but I figured I should see what people think. Please leave feedback and tell me if you think I should continue pursuing a career as a writer. All criticism is appreciated.

Chapter1



o Wait up guyo s!o Says Steven as he runs towards us. Heo s about six feet tall, same as me. His long brown hair nearly covers his eyes. His glasses cracked down the middle on the left lens. He was always too stubborn to get it fixed. His breathing is heavy as he runs, but calms as he reaches us. He plucks the blue inhaler from his right pocket, holds it up to his mouth and inhales heavily.

o I thought Io d be walking alone again.o He says as he meets our pace.
o You almost did. Hell Io m surprised youo re even coming today.o Says Nate with a punch to his shoulder.
o What? I never miss school. Io m just a little nauseous.o He says looking ahead, rubbing his shoulder as if to indicate that the punch was too hard.
o Well dono t breathe on me then. I dono t want what you got.o Nate says, covering his mouth with his shirt collar.

Nate stands around five inches shorter than Steven and I. His red hair short and curly, his skin pale and dotted with freckles. Heo s a bit of a hypochondriac and not without reason. His entire family besides his mother has died of fatal illnesses. Nate himself nearly died of cancer four years ago, but he managed to pull through it and not become another statistic to prove his familyo s poor health.

We arrive at the school. A large gray building, with cobblestone walls near the entrance. The sign above the entrance reads o West River High Schoolo . Students are scattered around the parking lot and the courtyard in front of the school. We walk slowly toward the entrance weaving through the crowds of kids. I know most of them but they dono t know me.

Io m not the most noticeable of people. I have short brown hair, and not many distinguishing features. Io m not fat, nor am I skinny. Io ve never fit in with the popular kids, not that I really want to. Io ve never had many friends, besides Nate and Steven. Io m not the most outspoken person, nor do I want to be. Io m a quiet little nobody, and Io d like to keep it that way.

We make our way through the hall, past the office and the cafeteria towards the stairwell. Nate splits from the group and heads down the hall and turns right around a corner, as we make our way up the steps. We turn left at the top of the stairs to avoid the large crowd of kids between us and our first hour class. We pass group after group of students, Steven stopping occasionally to sign a yearbook or two. No one asks me to sign any, nor does anyone even notice me. Once heo s run out of things to sign we make our way to class.

We enter the nearly empty room. I make my way to the seat kiddy corner to the door. Mr. Wilson glances up from his newspaper to acknowledge our presence. Steven and I sit almost simultaneously and begin to talk.
o Guess ito s officially the last day of school for us.o He says.
o Yeah, I guess so.o I say with a sigh.
o Then weo re headed for college.o He says with excitement.
o Yep.o
o Whato s wrong.o He says o I would have thought youo d be excited too.o
o I dono t know. I never really liked school.o I say and look at him o Not sure how I feel about another four years.o
He sits there for a minute then starts to say o I guesso ¦o the bell cuts him off. The room begins to fill with a stampede of students, of all shapes and sizes. Ito s almost hard to believe the room was empty just moments ago. Everyone carefully chooses their seats and the roaring conversations come to an end as Mr. Wilson stands and greets the class with o Hello everyone! As Io m sure you no doubt have noticed. Summer is only hours away.o

Mr. Wilson is a tall grey haired man, with a thick mustache. His skin light and wrinkled with a mole on his chin. He has never been the most enthusiastic teacher, but rather an understanding one. In fact Today is the most excited heo s seemed all year. Heo s a good man, always taking time to help where he can. Never raises his voice, not that he needs to. Everyone seems to respect him, as he respects everyone.



o Alright for our last day we will be writing an essay about the things we look forward to most about summer.o He says surveying the class.



I look to Steven, but he has his head down on the desk. I give him a nudge, but get no response.
o Hey. Steven. Wake up.o I say, and nudge him again. Nothing, no response. He must be really tired. Steven almost never sleeps in class. Maybe he really is sick like he says.

It doesno t take long before Io ve finished my essay with incredibly vague details. I stand and make my way to the front of the class room to turn in my paper. I place the paper on Mr. Wilsono s desk when Io m stopped dead in my tracks. A blood curdling scream emanating from the back of the room, pierces my eardrums and leaves me with a ringing sensation. I turn to see Steven lying on the floor, a spray of blood on the floor starting from his mouth.

Before I can make my way to him, Io m blocked by other students. Mr. Wilson pushes his way through the crowd and reaches Steven. Heo s just lying there. Is he dead? I quickly look to his stomach, but I see no sign of breathing. Io m suddenly dizzy. I stumble and catch myself on a desk. Heo s dead, Steven is dead. I hear a noise and what sounds like a muffled scream. I look up just for a moment. I almost have trouble processing what Io m seeing



Mr. Wilson lies on the floor with Steven on top of him. In an instant Io m relieved. I shut out all other thoughts. o Heo s alive! Thank god heo so ¦o My words drift off as he turns his head in my direction. In an instance all the relief is gone, and in its place fear and confusion.



His eyes search the room like a hungry animal. His skin pale and mouth covered in blood. Heo s chewing on something but I cano t see what it is. I take a few steps closer as the group slowly separates. In an instant I know what it is. Flesh. My eyes travel from his mouth to the now limp body of my teacher. His neck is bleeding profusely. Now my eyes move back to Steven, heo s moving now. With a bit of effort he stands, looking straight into my eyes. He starts towards me. Slowly at first, but almost to quickly to react he begins to run.






Chapter2



Steveno s body lies on the floor in front of me. A bloody pencil sticking out of his eye. It hits me like a ton of bricks and ito s almost too much to bear. I killed him. I killed my friend. I fall to my knees. Tears begin to form in my eyes. All of the students have left the room, aside from me. Aside from Steven. My vision is blurry, but I can make out movement on the far side of the room. I wipe my eyes but see nothing.



Nothing. No movement. Nothing but a big pool of blood where Mr. Wilson was. It takes a moment to register in my brain. Heo s not there anymore, but how? He was dead. Wasno t he? I saw him lying there, his neck ripped open and bloody. Thereo s no way he could have survived that, but he must have if heo s moved. I turn to search the room but heo s nowhere to be found.



It takes me a moment to gather myself and get to my feet. I start toward the door, but I slip and fall. On the floor now, I raise my hand in front of my face. Ito s covered in blood. I get up slowly, being careful not to fall again. Mr. Wilson must have gotten up and left. Heo s probably looking for help. Io m startled by a loud scream. Ito s coming from the hallway. I move quickly, ignoring the other screams that followed the first. Somebody needs help.



I enter the hallway, and before I can take in my surroundings Io m knocked down by someone. I hit my head and my vision blurs. I do my best to shake it off and look around. Panic. Thato s all I can see. Kids running left and right. Blood on the walls and lockers. Thato s when I see him. Mr. Wilson sits next to a girl lying on the floor. Her stomach ripped clean open. In his hands he holds a hunk of mangled flesh. He rips a chunk of it off with his mouth and begins to chew.



This cano t be happening. I look up. He isno t the only one. Students run from others with hunger in their eyes, and blood on their lips. They tear into the flesh of those who do not manage to escape their grasps. This is chaos. I manage to stand. I make my way to the stairs as quickly as I can. Hoping every step of the way, that I dono t attract much attention.



I move quickly down the stairs. Trying my best not to draw any attention. I reach the bottom of the stairs with ease. This hallway is much more crowded. I start through the crowd, but it isno t long before Io m noticed. She comes at me arms flailing and screaming. No, not screaming. I can only describe the noise that she makes as a deep guttural shout. I run. She follows. I move as quickly as I can through the crowded halls, dodging grasping hands and the jaws of students and staff.



I pass the cafeteria, then the officeo s blood spattered door window. How can this be happening? Have they all gone mad? Io m near the exit when it hits me. Nate. I cano t just leave him. Heo s the only friend I have left. I turn left and head down the next hallway. More blood. More bodies. More hungry kids. I keep at a steady pace. Stopping for nothing. I need to find him.



I make another left. I look at the doors as I pass them. o 34o o 35o o 36o o 37o . This is it o 38o . I stumble through the door. The room is dark, but empty. Blood sprayed across chalkboard. Io m too late, heo s gone. Probably dead with the rest of them. Tears form in my eyes again, but I wipe them clear. I cano t cry right now, I have to get out of here. I exit the room. I look to my right toward the gymnasium, ito s pretty clear. Then to my left. A chill runs up my spine.



I run as fast as I can. Constantly tortured by the sounds coming from behind me. I dono t dare to look back, I need to keep moving. I trip and fall over a bloody corpse on the floor. I can hear the footsteps getting closer with each passing second. I scramble to my feet and start to run. Its then that the doors to the gym swing open. Then I hear a voice. o In here! Come on, hurry up!o it echoes down the hall. I know that voice. Nate! I break into a full on sprint. I reach the door to see Nate standing in front of me with a bloody fire extinguisher in his hands.



o Come on!o he yells. I cano t seem to manage any words so I nod, and we run to the far end of the gym. The doors quickly swing open again and the gym begins to fill with our cannibalistic classmates. Nate looks at me and points to a door in the corner of the gym. o We need to keep moving!o he yells, more panicked than before. We make it to the door, but its locked. Nate kicks it, but he isno t strong enough to get it opened. He looks at me, hope in his eyes. I nod, and get a running start at the door. I slam into the big metal door with my shoulder. Pain shoots through my arm. It swings open, and I lose my footing. I stumble in and fall. My head bounces off of something hard. I see spots. Turn to look at the door and see Nate up against it. Then my vision goes black.