Amanda glanced at her watch. "Seven forty five, a whole hours sleep that time." She thought. Or was it seven forty five P.M.? No it couldn't be, she could never get that much sleep.

The haggard woman peered through the dimness. The living room was dark. Will, her husband of three years, had boarded up the windows and doors before he died, she was safe...for now, but food and water were running low. Today was the day. She had to get out now before it was too late.

Amanda stood and stiffly walked to the kitchen still straining to see in the darkened room. She could hear the footsteps on the front porch shuffling back and forth. "They won't go away," She thought. "As long as I'm here, they won't go away." Her eyes began to adjust to the darkened room. She opened the cabinet door, and pulled out a can of green beans grimacing at the thought of another cold meal. Using the hand opener she turned the crank until the lid broke free. She leaned against the counter and quietly ate until the beans were gone, and tossed the empty can into the sink. She may as well have just thrown it to the floor for that matter. Having a clean house was not at the top of her list now. All of the hard work that went into building a nice home and life now meant nothing.

Amanda was thirty-one and before everything fell to pieces, very attractive. Her long black hair was now in knots, and her startling emerald green eyes were blood-shot from lack of sleep. She hadn't had a real bath in two weeks, and she was teetering on the edge of a breakdown.

"All this in three weeks." She thought. "How could it get out of hand so quickly?"

She knew the reason for the sudden collapse. It was caused by people like her not able to do what simply had to be done. No one was able to destroy what they perceived to be friends or family, and the authorities trying to rationalize the situation to the point of absurdity.

Amanda had been beside Will when he died, she had to be awake and alert when the time came. It had become known that anyone bitten by an infected person would die and return as one of the demons. Incredible...Even though they were dead, devoid of life, the body would revive and kill.

Before Will died, he made her promise to take care of him to make certain that he didn't come back as one of the horrible ghouls. Destroying the brain by a blow to the head, gunshot or decapitation would stop the transformation from a still corpse to murderous monster. It was a curse straight from hell.

"No virus, as the authorities and so called experts were saying it was, could do this." she reasoned. But she had still been unable to carry out Will's request. She couldn't bring herself to do what he had asked. Instead, she dragged his body outside and left it on the porch.

After only about five minutes his body began to move. The lifeless remains found a way to become mobile, and aware. She would carry out his request before she left. She had to.

Amanda went to the living room window. The one that didn't face the front porch. She didn't want to see out front, she knew what was there and the thought of it sent cold chills shivering down her spine.

Amanda peered through a crack between the boards. It was daytime, a sunny morning. From her perspective nothing looked unusual. It could have been just another day. The tree leaves blew with a gentle breeze. A robin sit perched on the telephone line overhead singing loudly.

The house was in a mountain subdivision about four miles from town. When it first started, they'd thought it would be safe there, not many people...away from it all. Then they came...they came anyway. Nowhere was safe.

Their satellite dish stood at the edge of the woods. Will would use it to get reports on the situation when the local stations had all but stopped broadcasting. The first of such reports all came from the eastern seaboard, but quickly spread to the rest of the country and then, worldwide. At first there were many and varied accounts of a vast wave of violence. "Cause unknown." However, by the end of day one, the reports had changed to something that was so unbelievable that it stunned and panicked the world. "The bodies of the recently dead were returning to life, attacking the living and eating their victims!"

"Eating their victims!"...That phrase stuck in Amanda's mind and haunted her. Will had been attacked by one of the creatures. He had been bitten a week ago. It took a bite out of his arm just above the wrist while they were stocking up on food at the grocery store hoping to ride the crisis out at home. Will didn't want to leave their house, "We'll be safe here." He said. "Don't worry."

They had gone into town to pick up the supplies they would need to tough it out for the week or two it would take for this bizarre epidemic to be brought under control. They hadn't realized how far out of hand things had already gotten. The whole town was in a panic. A throng of people in the grocery store was unruly to the point of nearly rioting. She had urged him to get the bare essentials and get out, so they decided to go for canned goods that could sustain them even if the power should go out. Little did they know what was ahead for them.

As they rounded the corner into the canned goods isle the scene before them was a total free-for-all. There was barely room to get by, and people were pushing and shouting. "To hell with this" Will had said "let's get back up on the mountain, these assholes are nuts!!" No sooner had the words escaped his lips than two women who had been arguing over a restaurant sized can of ravioli's fell against the shelves directly in front of them in a screaming, scratching, hair pulling frenzy. This caused an ensuing turmoil of pushing, shoving, and grabbing any and everything they could get their hands on.

It was such a riot that no one noticed the ambling, shuffling vision of horror that was right there in their midst. No one, that is, except for Will. The thing reached out for a small girl of about four who was screaming in fright as her Mother rolled on the floor with a death grip on a can of pasta. Will moved so fast that even Amanda didn't know what had happened until it was too late. He leapt over the brawl at his feet and swept the screaming toddler out of harms way like a cartoon super hero.

The ghoul, who was apparently not of such discerning taste as the fighting women, was perfectly happy to take a large chunk of Will's forearm instead of the other tender little morsel. Will kept his head as he always did, and grabbed up the huge can of ravioli's, which the woman had dropped by now, and bashed the creature's head in.

Will's condition deteriorated rapidly. The hospital was overrun with wounded and the doctors had no answers. Antibiotics were administered to stop infection and he was sent home. There was no room at the hospital for anyone that wasn't critically injured.

In spite of the antibiotics, the infection spread. His fever rose to a hundred and six and stayed there, sending him into convulsions, hallucinations and finally a coma. He was dead in less than three days.

Thinking back on it Amanda felt the overwhelming grief come back as all her efforts of the past three weeks to hold herself together dissolved in a rush of unshed tears. Her shoulders began to shake violently with repressed sobs. Tiny hiccoughing sounds escaping as she finally surrendered to it. She dropped to the kitchen floor wrapping her arms tightly around herself and took a brief respite in insanity. She rocked back and forth in her own embrace wailing like the legendary Banshee.

"Damn you Will! DAMN YOU!" She screamed hoarsely "I can't do this alone. I can't do this." She sobbed brokenly, her torrent of rage and grief poured itself out for nearly twenty minutes. Finally collapsing in complete exhaustion she lay with her face against the cold linoleum, jaggedly gasping for breath like an infant who had finally cried itself out.

She slept then, without dreaming.

She awoke with a start several hours later at the sound of her dead husband futilely banging at the front door. Her breakdown had had a cathartic effect on her and she awoke with a new resolve. Will was gone now. That life was gone now. Nothing had survived of it. Nothing, that is, except her, and she was going to be damned if she'd let those things get her now.

The backpack was full and ready. She might have to make the trip on foot. Will still carried the keys to the car in his pocket. She had forgotten that little detail when she laid him on the porch, an incredibly stupid thing to do, but now he was one of them, and she might not be able to get them even if she worked up the nerve to shoot him. There were other creatures outside as well now. As far as she could tell there were about eight trying to find a way in. Forgetting the keys was to say the least a huge oversight, but she had been uncharacteristically negligent the past week on more than one occasion.

She had to leave today. There were more and more of them all the time. Before long she would be hopelessly outnumbered. They couldn't get in to her yet, but enough of them might, and the food had run low. Better to try it now, than to wait until it was necessary to leave or starve to death. That was another thought that troubled her greatly. If she died or was killed, she too would return from the dead to kill with no one to end her miserable existence.

Most of the creatures were at the front door, the only thing not boarded up and still able to be opened. Somehow, Will knew that. He stayed there chewing and pawing at it, she could see him through the peephole. The creatures somehow still remembered some of what they knew when they were alive and Will was leading the way for the rest of them. Somewhere deep inside his brain was the knowledge that the front door was the weakest point in the home's defenses. Amanda grabbed the rifle. Will was not a big hunter or woodsman, it was the only gun in the house, only used for occasional target practice. She set it by the front door. She would have to get out in a hurry, and that was the best place for it. She could snatch it on the way out.

Amanda used Will's heavy carpenter's hammer, to pull the boards off the side window facing the satellite dish. It was around the corner from the creatures at the front door, and if she could pull off just enough of the boards to get her head out through the window, she could yell, coaxing them to that side of the house. When they came to her she would run to the front door, undo the locks and get out of the house and away. "They're stupid really." She thought. "Not much in the way of intelligence. There was a good chance they would fall for it."

Amanda forced the claw between the boards and the window frame and pulled back on the hammer's handle. The nail made a creaking noise but wouldn't budge. Will had done a good job of nailing them in tight. She tried again, this time placing a foot against the wall to give her more leverage. The nail broke free causing her to stumble backward. After several tries, a lot of sweat and an undignified black and blue bruise on her right hip, she got three of the boards off just enough to get her head through the opening.

Amanda cautiously stuck her head through the hole and looked around. The bottom of the window was at about waist level from the ground. This could turn into a very dangerous predicament if it failed leaving the creatures an easy way to get through to her.

"God, help me." She prayed under her breath knowing she would have to work fast.

"Hey!" She tried to yell but it hardly squeaked out. Adrenaline raced through her, causing her whole body to shake.

"Hey! Over here" She screamed. This time it came out loud and clear, and she could hear the moans get louder on the front porch. She heard the thudding of their steps as they lumbered off the front porch and toward their mindless equivalent of "lunch".

The first one came around the corner to her right. It was a chubby boy of about sixteen or so, the neighbors' son, Todd. She used to see him riding his bike by the house before the plague. Pity for him welled up inside her. He was never very popular with the other kids, and now this was to be the poor boy's fate. He was followed closely by three more, including his equally chubby and now mutilated mother Beth Ross who appeared to have had her throat torn out. The fear and revulsion at the sight of her former neighbors caused Amanda a moment of sheer panic. She jerked backward and tried to pull herself back inside the window but her jacket caught on a nail. She looked again at the creatures coming closer; there were now six, and the Beth and Todd creatures were less than ten feet away. She struggled to free herself, as panic rose in her throat it became difficult to draw breath.

"God...help me!" she whimpered as she thrashed and jerked against the window frame, slicing a gash in her arm from the shards of broken glass. She could feel the warm blood running down her arm from the cut. Reaching around to the nail, she yanked at it. The fabric began to tear free. In the same moment there was a heavy, cold thump on the back of her head like a slab of raw meat, as an unseen ghoul grabbed her by the hair. She had been watching the Ross's approach with such intensity that she had not noticed that another creature had come from the back of the house. Amanda reeled backward into her dining room. The long black hair ripped out of her tender scalp, and her eyes teared up in pain.

The ghoul was now attempting to scramble in through the small opening with Amanda's hair still clutched in its hand. The window wouldn't hold long, not with half of it out already. Amanda jumped up, and ran quickly to the front door and peered through the peephole. Only Will remained and he was also moving to the side of the house with the others.

A loud CRACK sounded behind her and Amanda turned to see that the creature had broken through the window and was halfway into the room. She quickly unlocked the door, grabbed the gun and backpack and ran.

Bounding down the porch steps she didn't stop to look back until she had covered more than half the distance to the road at the end of the driveway. She turned then, dropped the backpack to the ground and raised the loaded gun taking aim at Will who was already stumbling her way.

"Come on damnit, a little closer." She whispered, trying to focus down the barrel to put the sight right on his forehead. She dropped her aim for a split second for one last look "Just to be sure it's not Will" she told herself softly. Will's dead eyes stared blankly in her direction and he moaned almost pitifully. She was sure that there was nothing of him left, Will...or rather who Will use to be, was dead. "Do it! You have to do it!" She told herself.

Her dreadful duty had to be done with one shot. She remembered hearing somewhere that a second shot would give anyone that heard it, the direction from which it came and she didn't need anymore of these bastards to know where she was, and surely there were more in the neighborhood roaming about.

Will was only twenty feet away. She squeezed the trigger and the gun kicked hard against her shoulder. The shot rang out. Will's head snapped back and he paused for a second, then continued. His groaning became more urgent now, and he moved a little faster. Amanda lowered the gun and looked to see she had only grazed the side of his head. She raised it to shoot again, this time ready for the kick that had caused her to miss the first time.

After careful aim, she pulled the trigger. "Click." She tried again, still nothing. "Shit!" She cried, cursing herself for not remembering what Will had taught her. "Reload after each shot." Amanda pulled the bolt back and the empty cartridge popped out. She searched her pockets and found another to shove in the chamber. Amanda picked up the backpack, and took a few steps back, Will was getting too close. When she was once again at a safe distance, she dropped the pack and again took aim. Blam! This time he dropped and lay motionless on the ground.

"I did it..." she cried softly." "Goddamn you, I did what you asked...What I had to do."

A tear slid down her cheek but she had already mourned Will, and she had no time for regrets now. The others were getting close. Too close to get the keys from Will's pocket. She had to run. Amanda turned to the road and dashed away. She would go to town, there was nowhere else to go.

She put the shells back in her pocket and straightened the pack on her back. It was uncomfortable and heavy but she had to have the food and water. Her body ached, and it was a chore just to walk. The lack of sleep was making this very difficult but she couldn't stop. There were already several creatures that had spotted her while walking, following somewhere behind. She had run until they were out of site. The soulless monsters were slow and awkward. As long as there weren't too many she could run from them. As long as there weren't too many.

Amanda stopped for a second and pulled the bottle of water she had packed away from the backpack's outer pouch. She wanted to take huge greedy gulps of the refreshing fluid, but quelled her urge to do so and returned the cap after only a sip. "Plenty of time." She whispered looking at the sun in the eastern sky. "Plenty of time before dark." The last thing she wanted was to be outside after dark where she couldn't see the things before they got too close. She could run in the daytime when alerted, but traveling at night would be sure disaster. She wouldn't worry just yet. Shelter would be found before it came to that.

Amanda was nearing a large house on the left. It was a tutorial style home with a broad front yard. The home was owned by ole Mister Jennings. A seventy-year-old fellow whose yard was the most manicured in the neighborhood. He'd be outside every day planting, and trimming from morning 'til night, but the yard was unkempt now. The grass had grown high and the front door of the house was broken into several pieces, and scattered across the porch.

Amanda stopped walking and stared intently at the wrecked homestead. Mister Jennings himself stood on the porch and stared down the road just as she had seen him do many times before, waving to the neighbors as they passed by. There was a visible wound on his neck and the front of his shirt was covered in blood. Amanda started moving again but watched him as she walked ready to run again. He never moved. His wrinkled discolored, face turned a vacuous glance to her, but the old man remained where he was. He was one of them. There was no mistaking that, not with half his neck ripped out. She kept an eye on him until she rounded a turn in the road but he didn't try to pursue. She thought it very strange. Each one seemed to have a personality of sorts. Some were angry and alert, some were slow, in a trance like condition, while others were almost begging to have you. Mr. Jennings was a kind old man in life. Maybe some of that somehow still remained, buried deep in the brain somewhere, subconsciously.

The highway came into view; hopefully someone would drive by and pick her up. It was a four mile walk to town with danger every step of the way but the road was clear as far as she could see. A breeze kicked up and gave some relief to the humidity that was penetrating her clothes and she stopped for a second to relish the moment. The jacket she had worn, on the off chance that she be stuck outside after dark hindered the breeze's effects. There were no houses on this stretch of road so it would be a fairly safe walk. Amanda again looked at her watch, it was almost ten o'clock. She dropped the pack and removed her jacket stuffing it inside an open zipper. If she had to run again it would be easier to do so without the extra skin on, and it sure felt better.

Throwing the cumbersome pack again over her shoulder she resumed her journey down the deserted road towards town.

Amanda had walked a mile or so when she rounded a turn and spotted two cars fifty yards away in the road ahead. It looked like a head on collision had occurred at high speed. One car was laying on its top crossways in the road and the other had come to a stop by its side. Amanda stopped walking and stared at the site. If there had been fatalities, she may have company. It was hard to tell how long the cars had been like they were, and still too far away to see much detail.

Nervously, she checked to make sure the rifle was loaded, she knew it was, she reloaded it herself. But it was better to be safe than sorry, or worse off-dead.

The car that was upright was crushed in the front to the dashboard. Amanda walked to its side and peered in. The smell of gasoline overwhelmed her senses from where the tank had been ruptured and it burned her sinuses. There was no one inside. Only a small spot of blood that was smeared over the cracks in the smashed windshield remained of its occupant. Relief calmed her nerves slightly. She wouldn't have to look into those eyes again.

"The eyes...those glazed emotionless dead eyes." When she looked into Will's eyes she could see no soul, no emotion. "Maybe that's what it was." she thought, "The human body without the soul. Maybe they craved to fill an emptiness inside, something only the living could fill."

Amanda went to the second car. It was lying on it's top and the roof was crushed in almost flat against the dashboard. Slowly she walked close and got to her knees to look inside. It was hard to get a good look with the roof smashed down so badly, and she had to practically put her head to the ground to see. In the driver's seat supported by the safety belts hung the body of a man. His forehead had a massive wound from where it had impacted with the steering wheel or something else solid. He didn't move, his open eyes only stared forward blankly. The injury to the head must have been severe enough to prevent him from being resurrected into one of the flesh-eating ghouls. Either that, or the accident had just happened and the transformation had not yet become complete.

Amanda got back to her feet and composed herself. If the latter was the case, she did not want to be there when it did happened, and at a quickened pace she resumed her journey.

The trek to town was mostly downhill which made the trip somewhat yielding, but the threat of another encounter kept her vigilant. She had not had any communication with anyone in well over a week. She had no idea what the situation would be in town, or anywhere for that matter. Only God knew what lie ahead for her. "God and religion, now there's a topic." She thought. Recent events had changed her preconceived ideas of that too. Who was this God that would allow such horror to rear its ugly head and claim the earth as its own? Not the one she had learned so much about as a little girl in Sunday school.

Amanda turned and looked at the wrecked cars behind her one last time. They were almost out of site now, and there was still no visible movement from its lone occupant. She suddenly felt remarkably calm for the moment, "The calm before the storm." She thought, as she continued her walk listening to the birds as they sang from the trees beside the deserted road. Even now their song was beauty to her ears.

Amanda hung her head and sighed heavily. This was a hopeless venture. She could never make it through without being seen and pursued. She had left her home, and come this far only to be turned back. She had hoped it would be better. That some remnant of civilization had survived. Never in her worst nightmares, and there had been plenty lately, had she imagined that there would be no one left to help her.

The wails of the dead echoed in her ears as she lay there watching them from a distance. The sound they emitted as it reached her ears was a ghastly whine, like an engine running and the motor revving up and down with various pitches of their undead wails. In their cries Amanda heard a tone of frustration and of desire and of desperation to satisfy their dark uncontrollable urges.

The reality of the situation crept silently into her consciousness. It really was all over. This small town of only twelve thousand had become a dwelling place for demons. How much worse the big cities must be. Seeking help here, was not the answer. Her journey to town was a mistake. She should have taken the other option. She could still do that. The old Izzac Walton League cabin retreat was in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains. It was miles from anyone, or anything. She and her family had spent many weekends there when she was a child. The love she had gained, as a child for these mountains was one of the reasons she had convinced Will to settle here. The cabin had a spring house, a stocked pond and plenty of game. A rabbit trap couldn't be that hard to make.

Amanda slithered back from the crest of the hill until she could stand without being seen, then stood and turned away from the place she had called home. She put up that familiar mental wall against anything she could not or did not wish to deal with. "It's in the past now" she assured herself "It's all in the past. Now to the future." She steeled her resolve and tried to think ahead. There was a place a few miles back, where the Appalachian Trail crossed the road. If she followed it for fifteen miles or so, it would bring her to within a few miles of the cabin. There she would be safe. Safe, but alone.

- THE END -