Georgian Redneck

Chapter 40- Floral and Fading

*FLASHBACK*

"...stay safe." The nervous looking news reporter finnishes his speech with a worried expression etched onto his pale face. Shit's going down. I mean proper shit. The shit that won't sort itself out and the special forces might not be of much help either.

I turn the small black Tv off and stand up off the wooden floor with a weird feeling in my gut. It's definitely something bigger than what the man spoke about a few seconds ago. A rage virus that turns people into damn cannibals. That's major.

I walk over to my small closet and retrieve my black backpack which I haven't used in ages. Since I was a teen, I think. I sprint from my room to my small kitchen and shove the five water bottles, canned beans and peaches into the backpack. The only food in this apartment, I'm pretty sure. Unless some food fairy hid other delicacies around here.

One thing I know for sure. There's no way I'm staying in Atlanta, a city this big. Thank god it's Saturday and I don't have any sessions with my patients scheduled for today. And even if I did, I don't think they'd turn up. Neither would I, to be honest. As soon as I get out of this town, I'll call off my meetings for the next few weeks.

Across the room, my phone buzzes violently, playing 'Enter Sandman' by Metallica. Who the hell could that be? Certainly not my parents. I set the bag down and walk hurriedly towards the old sofa, picking the thing up and looking at the caller ID.

'Kellin McAllan🌚'

My best friend. What does he want? He never usualy calls during the day. He's too busy at work. That on its own is strange. I pick up and the first thing I hear is a distant scream of a female. What the fuck.

"Listen, Diana. Run as far away as you can. Don't turn back, no matter what happens. Don't try to save anyone. Hit those cannibalistic fuckers across the head hard." He whispers urgently as another scream comes from the receiver. It's obvious he's crying. He's also hiding. An unsettling thought protrudes into my mind. He might not get out alive.

"Kellin! What's happening? Get the fuck out of there!" I scream at him shakily, afraid of the answer. Why's he whispering? He's at his work, Starbucks. That much I gathered. Fuck, is he okay?!

"Diana, run. This ain't some shit that's gonna blow over soon. It's major. Stay safe, little pumpkin. I love-" he whispers in a scared voice, followed by an ear-splitting scream which hurts my ears. No. No!

"Kellin!" I yell into the phone, salty tears streaming freely down my face.

My... My best friend is most likely dead. My only family. I throw the iPhone at the brick wall,  shattering immediately. Maybe I should do what he said. Get the fuck out and don't look back.

I don't waste any time picking up the shards of my phone. It's useless now. Forget cancelling meetings. I have a feeling that my patients won't be alive anyway.

I pull on a winter jacket and black combat boots which are next to the sofa, slipping the buck knife from the floor into my right boot. I don't care that it's summer. I have no idea how long I'll be gone for. Maybe months. Maybe I won't even come back.

Kellin worked in the dead centre of Atlanta, which is where he's right now. This means it's serious shit. Stupid ass government trying to make us think it's nothing. The army arrived into the city two days ago, to protect it I assume. Well, they aren't doing a good job by the looks of it.

As I'm zipping the jacket up over my Metallica top, gunshots echo from the streets right outside my apartment building. Fuck. I don't have much time. No time at all.

I pull my sharp machete from beneath my single bed and jog back to the kitchen, swinging the backpack onto my shoulders. It's the end of the world. We're all going to die a slow, horrible death. All of us. It's just a matter of time. That's the ones thing I'm sure about.

I open the door of my small apartment and look down the long hallway cautiously, seeing a stumbling man. Maybe he's homeless? Maybe he's lost and is trying to get somewhere safe?

He seems to notice me and starts snapping his ugly teeth and moving towards me. Maybe he's not a homeless man after all. I wouldn't even call it a 'man', to be honest.

'Hit those canibalistic fuckers across the head hard'

Kellin's message plays through my mind over and over again as I raise the machete and pierce the skull of the cannibal, making him fall onto the red carpet. Holy fucking shit. I just killed a man. No. A dead man. How is this even possible?

I wipe the tears away to clear my vision and waste no time in sprinting into the thick woods behind my apartment building. Far away from people. Far away from the dead.

(A/N)
Flashback, yay! I was thinking of ending this book and writing a second one, continuing this. Let's say I get to chapter 50 and start the second book. Because I don't really want to have too many chapters in one... Does that even make sense? THANK YOU FOR 5k VIEWS!
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Also, I'll be taking a break from writing(not by choice) as I've got important exams coming up. But I'll try to update as frequently as I can!