Chapter 1) Lone

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The sun beams down on the abandoned Atlanta streets. Y/N is inside a black car. She's laying down on the back seats. She just woke up from the first decent sleep she's had in weeks.

She got left behind by her coworker when the world went to sh*t. They were working in the office down the road. They'd been hearing the reports and watching the news but nobody thought it would escalate this far.

People eating people. How did they get here?

Y/N takes a deep breath. Mandy, her coworker was the only other worker still in the building that day. Everyone else called home sick. They, however, stayed and worked. A few days into the reports the door jingled signaling that someone has entered. They looked up to see a man wearing a hood. He had a gun in his hand.

They held their hands up, glancing at each other nervously.

"Give me everything you have." He said.

Y/N emptied her purse and Mandy followed suit. After he got what he needed he ran outside. The two girls watched in horror as another man grabbed him by the arm, biting a chunk of flesh out of him. Mandy quickly stood up and locked the door.

"Oh my god. What do we do?" Y/N asks quietly.

Mandy shrugs. "We wait?"

They spent three whole days in that building. People on the streets running around. Those things wandering after them. The windows of their building were dark so nobody could see inside.

On the fourth day, after only running off coffee and chips ahoy cookies, Mandy breaks. "I can't do this anymore."

She unlocks the door and runs outside. Y/N tries to follow her but spots a decaying body following her friend. She slams the door shut and locks it, watching as her friend gets torn apart on the street.

On the fifth day, the streets looked relatively clear. She packed a small bag with a few knives from the communal kitchen in the break room. She shoves some other things she deems necessities into the bag. She searches through all of her former coworkers desks, hoping somebody would be crazy enough to have a gun in the office.

There was. Her least favorite coworker Brent had a small caliber pistol in his bottom drawer. It has a couple rounds inside. She shakes her head and puts it in the waistband of her pants. Her outfit isn't very appropriate for an apocalypse.

She has a floral blouse and a pair of black jeans on. Her shoes are slightly platformed boots.

She unlocks the door to the building and peers out. There's one walker near the alley.

She's calling them walkers because they look dead but they are walking. Almost a play on words. She doesn't really know what to do. Should she kill it? Is it even still alive? How would she kill it? All she knows is that the last thing she heard before the radio went static was "aim for the head."

She slowly creeps away from the walker in the alley and makes her way down the empty road. She finds a pharmacy. The windows are broken and the inside is dark.

She steps through the broken window and cringes when she steps on a piece of glass making a shattering sound. She pauses. No noise.

She continues her way into the store. Thankfully it's empty. She grabs some more materials. The next place she goes to is the grocery store. It's right across the road.

This time she opens the door. The bell doesn't go off. She peeks around each aisle checking for other signs of life. Nothing.

She makes her way to the canned section. It's not completely bare. She grabs a couple cans and some water. She slowly makes her way back to the building and enters her office. She locks the door and sets her bag down. She walks over to one of the desks and nearly falls over when she sees a walker. It must've pushed its way inside when the door was unlocked.

She reaches for her gun. She's never shot one before. 32 years of life and experience and yet she's never fired a gun. She aims it at the creature but it swings it's arm at her.

She jumps back and pulls the trigger. It doesn't go off. "F*ck!" She curses.

She realizes the safety is on so she turns it off and aims it back at the head, remembering the radio voice. She feels tears in her eyes and the gun shakes in her hand. She closes her eyes and fires. She hears a thump and a shattering noise. She slowly opens her eyes and finds the walker, dead on the floor.

She sighs of relief but her relief turns to horror when she realizes that the bullet also broke through the window of the building. She curses again and grabs her bag, running out the door. Walkers are now making their way towards the sound.

That was a week and a half ago. She's been on the run ever since. She can't go home because her house is a 1 hour commute every day by train, and the last time she checked, all the trains were down.

She hasn't run into another person. There's always the occasional gunshot but by the time the walkers are cleared from the area, the people are long gone.

This black car has been her sanctuary for the past two days. She covers the windows at night with a blanket that she found in a nearby store. She manually locks the doors and makes herself as least visible as she can.

She sighs and sits up. She doesn't know what time it is but the sun is in the sky now. She peeks out the window and sees nothing. She takes out her water bottle. It's down to a few sips. She sighs and takes a gulp.

Suddenly she hears trotting. Not human. Not dead. Something else. It gets closer and closer. She peeks out again and sees him.

A man.

On a horse.
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