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Rated: 18+ · Fiction · Comedy · #2127520
The zombie trilogy continues with a sensible plot and less random vulgarities! Enjoy!
Like 4 Days Later or Something...

"Well my brotha, looks like we can make this our home." I said to Alex, lovingly, but not gaily, because that would be gay.
         "True dat niqqa." Said Alex with his sweg sweater vest and sweg clothes on.
         I smacked the shit out of him. Ever since we left Compton he's been acting like a real nigga. Maybe I should have whooped that ass while we were still in the helicopter. Oh yeah, by the way we made it to some wimp ass camp after the helicopter crashed. All of the people in there are stupid as fuck inmates from the prison but whatever, I'll probably kill them all anyway. Lolz.
         "Sorry for acting all sweg and nigga and all that" Alex apologized to me.
         "It's all good man, don't worry about it." I smiled nicely then did a surprise sock in the gut.
         He lain there, in a ball like a bitch. "What the fuck man? Why you do this to me?" He cried out.
         "Well, that was to make sure that you don't act a fool in our new camp." I patted his back and helped him up.
         We approached the nigga camp and they accepted us with open arms "We want to fuck you!" Some tranny said, "I mean be friends with you! Come on in and enjoy our camp!" He said it in a really weird way, and it made me shit my pants. After changing into some new jeans, me and Alex slowly approached the campgrounds.
The main hall was an exact replica of the Krusty Krab.... Wtf..... The rest of the camp was tents set up by some retard who used fucking screwdrivers instead of stakes to hold the tent down. I noticed an armory close by, in a little shed. It was straight out in the open, no locks or anything, all of it up for grabs. Food was plentiful and there was some really dope ass chocolate bars sitting in a bin right outside. Then I noticed something......
         "Everything is yours, and everything you have is ours, it's a community share.... We are one" A voice from behind the shadows called out. It was the ghost... of REZNOV!!
         Then I realized... everywhere around the camp, there was Soviet flags. People were sharing, and being NICE!!! I couldn't understand why... WHY ARE THEY FUCKING COMMIES!!! Communism never works, don't these people get it?? I mean, look at World War 2, when the British tried to tax the American scumbags for some gay ass tea. Want to know what happened to Hitler in the revolutionary war? STALIN. Why are gas prices high? STALIN. Why is the Ukrainian government full of motherfuckers? Well... that's not Stalin's fault, but STALIN.
         I grabbed Alex and said "These fuckin' commies must pay! #Trump2016, we must get CAPITALISM!!" I said in such a political way that I seemed like some extremist.
         Alex wondered why I was being a douchebag, and smacked the shit out of me. "We can make this work brother, communism isn't THAT bad!"
         I didn't agree with him at all, cause who the fuck agrees with Communism. The idea of communism is like being the smartest kid with autism. It don't mean SHIT. We ended up going into "town" and meeting up with the great leader. No, not Kim Jung Un, but Boristinov Melakyinovistovak. Of course, some random name you hear Russians yell in an Xbox Live party when they get all pissed off about how piss-poor their country is.
         "Step closer..." He commanded to us. Of course, we stepped forward... So forward in fact, that I stomped the shit out of his foot. Of course, the fucker was wearing some nasty ass rubber crocks instead of regular shoes.
         "YOU BITCH! How many times are my feet gonna be stomped out before all you learn that I never wear REAL shoes???" He screamed.
         His breath smelt like old fish and shitty communist candy. I just blankly stared, no idea what the fuck to do to appease this guy.
         "So, you want to join our camp?" The dickhead said. "There are rules to this camp... anything you make, anything you own, is now property of everyone. We do work without pay, as there is no reason to get rewarded since you live in the safety of the STATE."
         I was tired of hearing this bullshit, so I asked to be excused to take a piss and shit. "I'll be right back to continue our commie *cough cough* 'amazing' conversation."
         I dragged Alex's ass with me. I snuck my way out of the building and went to the shitty run-down shed with all the weapons.
         "Ummmm..... Josh?" Alex said to me in a scared tone. "What are you doing?"
         I secured a vest under my muscular shirt and added big ass tear gas canisters next to my sack. Then afterwards, I grabbed a gun of the long-ass variety and slung it over my back. A .44 special REZNOV edition handgun easily slipped into my trendy Nike socks. I packed some ammo into my shoes and a few extra rounds into my hipster "Vegan4Lyfe" hoodie I found off a dead liberal body. I also grabbed a random 90's CD (probably Linkin Park) while Alex grabbed a shit ton of.... Knives? (wtf is he gonna do with all that shit) and we started back onto the trail to the town hall.
         "Hey man, I know you're still pissed off that I ate all those cheese balls back in the apartment.... But you don't have to do this.." Alex said like a lil' bitch.
         As we got in, the leader and all his guards glared sternly at us..... Obviously upset that we took so long to take a shit.
         "What took so long young comrades?" He said while drinking vodka and putting on a babushka. "We have been....... Waiting."
         Thunder struck and I gulped. "Well.... I had indigestion, and diarrhea." As if I copy pasted words from a Peptmo-Bismol TV commercial.
         He got up and dug in his pocket and pulled out a vial. On the label it said "for killing suspected capitalists." He covered it up quickly, acting as if I didn't already see that shit. That pushed me over the FUCKING LINE! Simply put, I was just plain cringed-out on how he was so obviously mentally-challenged.
         "Take this, it will help... with taking a shit". The Great Leader threw me a pill from the vial. It slid across the marble tile passed the 20 guards on each side of the court. It was like you could hear a pin drop.... It was so quiet.
         I grabbed the pill. It smelled like burnt Soviet souls. "Well.... TAKE IT!" He yelled out.
         I started sweating, and more thunder struck. Alex looked at me, and for the first time, he made the decision to kill these sickle-and-hammer looking fucks. "Yeah," Alex said, "We'll take it alright.." He pulled out his big ass bag of knives. "TAKE IT UP THE ASS!"
         I don't think he realized how gay that made him sound, and the guards all looked confused. That is, until knives started flying through the air, piecing throats.
         "FUCKING FUCK YOU FUCKING RED FUCKS! AMERICA!!!" I exclaimed while throwing the two tear gas canisters right at all of their fucking feet. My sack warmed them up enough so they instantly exploded into a toxic wafting air that smelled like wet farts and cauliflower. I then pulled out my long-ass gun of the long-ass variety and opened up on those choking motherfuckers. Bullets flew and destroyed the very soul of those Nazi Communist Nigger Jew Chink Cracker Polish Slovakian and whatever else BULLSHIT bitches.
         *Jesus, I write this novel and realize how much of a shitty person I sound like. I PROMISE I'M NOT!*
         The Great Leader escaped by way of Batmobile while we finished off the last of the guards.
         "QUICK! We gotta get that shitbag!" Alex exclaimed. "There's another ice cream cart!"
         Not this again, there is no way I'm getting into another god damn ice cream cart only to easily trip and eat deer shit for a second time while trying to SIMPLY get a scoop of Helado del Sol. But, of course, with my luck that's the only thing that could transport us fast enough. I got inside the cart and Alex began to push us down some big ass hill.
         "If we go fast enough, we can cut him off down the road over there!" Alex said. Wow, something that guy said actually made some fucking sense for once.
         The wheels wobbled so badly and all the Pumpkin Spice latte flavoring from Starbucks spilt all over me. Next thing you know, a bunch of pre-pubescent white girls started coming after us, in addition to the already enraged Camp Commie riot chasing us in equally shitty ice cream carts. We had to make it to the Batmobile.
         I saw a giant rock coming closer and closer, right in our path. "Holy shit, WATCH OUT FOR THE ROCK!" I screamed at the top of my lungs to Alex.
         Next thing you know, Dwayne Johnson completely beats the shit out of our cart and both of us go tumbling down the icy cold hill. The Batmobile was close, and I could tell we were gonna hit it. I jumped back up on my feet as did Alex, and we ran our asses off to the road and timed the jump...... Easy now..... easy........................
We smashed through the windshield and fell into the passenger seat.
         I looked at the materialistic tyrant, and grabbed a key from my pocket.
         "You wouldn't dare...." He warned.
         I grabbed the key..... And keyed the holy HELL out of the leather, ripping a big ass gash through it.
         He grabbed me by the throat, "THAT COST ME MY 1,500 AUTOZONE REWARDS POINTS I'VE BEEN SAVING FOR 3 YEARS! YOU........ BITCH!"
         I began choking, and looked to Alex for a little fucking help, but of course he was just watching in the back seat eating another big tub of cheese ballz. Finally, he came to his damn senses, and cut the Ruskie's fingers off.
         "WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK MAN!?" The Ruskie exclaimed while bleeding everywhere.
         I took the time to pull out my big ass Magnum and shoot out both his kneecaps. I then opened his door and kicked his ass out into the road. As I looked forward, a huge tree came into sight, right into our line of driving. A big crash occurred, knocking us around... Then we blacked out...............
         We woke up, in a blaze. Like 420 blaze it, as a matter of fact. It was 1945, and after defeating that commie, our next objective was not only to construct additional pylons, but also to kill Adolf Hitler. There he was, right there in the center of his hometown, Oberitiskillin, Kenya.
         "How the hell did we go to 1945?" Alex asked, standing in front of the HEIL HITLER speech billboard.
         "Because this story doesn't make sense and the author is fucking retarded. Also, we ran out of ideas for the ending of Orange Peanut the 2nd so we had to cut development costs by hiring shitty writers." I retorted.
         "Seems legit." Alex said, wondering why the actual fuck this story is still going on.
         Hitler continued his speech, "Ich bin me dieser Mist kommunistische Sprache, mein Land herumlaufen! Alle Muslime sind jetzt verboten, von hier an heraus!! Neben Anime. Das ist etwas wirklich Homosexuell Schei!!"
         We ended up cutting him off right in the middle of his speech, by dropping a piano on his head, giving him 83 concussions at the same time..... One for each key... Afterwards, a bunch of angry krauts followed us. Luckily, we ended up running into a Jewish bank (of course) and returning back to the present time, right at the crash site.
         "Well...... here we are.." Alex said grimly.
         Fire enveloped the Batmobile, and the communist guy was burnt to a crisp, and looked like a flaming bag of dog shit after it hits your front door on a late, hot August night.
         "Well what now?" I asked in a completely non-faggot way.
         "I don't know you fucking clown shoe." Alex said all asshole-like.
         "Ok you fucking window-sill looking ass nigga." I socked him in the face due to his outrageous attitude.
         We were about to go at it like a Trump supporter versus an illegal immigrant at a KKK rally, but next thing you know we realized that them bitch ass zombies finally made it down the hill and were closing in on our position. I was gonna start running, but I noticed that a zombie tripped over our destroyed ice cream cart, landing straight in a pile of creamy delicious strawberry ass cream. I started cracking up and fell on the floor laughing.
         "Come on bitch stop your shit! We're gonna be eaten alive!" Alex started crying and banging his head on a tree.
         I finally came to my senses, "That's some funny shit bro, do you think that motherfucker expected that? Probably ruined that nigga's day lololololol." I started laughing again but this time I started running.
         We had about 30 motherfuckers chasing us down the long stretch of highway. Of course, it started raining. It always rains when some bad shit happens. Without weapons, we were like a baby stuck in a fucking beehive. A.K.A. we were fucked. We started to run out of breath, well Alex's fat ass did. I was in pretty damn good shape from jerking off so often during the past few weeks.
         "Yo fat ass, now do you finally see why we don't devour all of the cheez-ballz every fucking time we find a box?"
         He couldn't even speak, it's almost sad how out of shape he was. I threw a Julian Michaels "5-minute 6 pack abs" DVD at him. This DVD ironically hit him right on the foot. Alex slipped, tripped, and flipped his way all the way to the gravel on the street. I went to go help the fuck, but realized it might possibly be too late to save his white ass.
         "Brother, I think my leg is broken......" Alex struggled to move and speak.
         "Thanks a lot Julian Michaels, '6 pack abs' turned to '6 pack FUCK YOU'." I blamed the DVD for him tripping, knowing damn well I was the one who fucked his shit up.
         "Don't blame the DVD, you threw it at me you fucking hand-sanitizer lookin' ass fucking fuck." Alex yelled.
         Eh, I deserved to be called these autistic insults. Like really, who tries to insult someone using any type of derivative of "hand-sanitizer". The zombies were closing in, and we were in the middle of the road, I had to leave him, there was no fucking way I could make it out of here carrying Alex.
         "Brother, you know I have to go..." I said soothingly, as I raided his pockets for his wallet.
         "It's ok, no worries, it was an amazing run we had..." He nearly cried.
         I gave him one last hug, the last hug I thought I would ever give to the poor guy. You know, no matter what he did, all the dumb shit he did to put us in peril, it was still a really fun time. Well, as much fun as you could possibly have in a god damn zombie apocalypse.
         I started running away after giving him one last look. Right when I turned to run though, some hick motherfucker flew by in his unnecessarily-lifted truck.
         "TIME TO KILL SOME NIGGER-NAZIS!!!" He said, showing a full set of buck teeth. He pulled out a baseball bat and started whacking the zombies heads off like mailboxes, one by one.
         I took this time to grab Alex and throw is ass behind some trees. I watched as the hillbilly roped up some zombies and bust some bottles of whiskey over their heads. Before too long, the furfag zombies ended up dead. Yes, all 30 of them. I walked out to the road again, meeting the hick.
         "Well howwwwdyyy!!" He said in the most prominent Louisiana accent ever. Strange enough to hear, considering we were all the way in Soviet Canada.
         His truck was full of mud, typical of these fuckers. Like why the fuck would you never wash your car? Is having a dirty ass truck REALLY that cool? Flies surrounded the stinky ass guy, and it was obvious he took no effort to try to stay clean or presentable.
         "Soooo..." I said, "What are you doing here?"
         "Well I dun-diddly-doo decided to kill some damn zombies cause my sister-wife was bothered by them dun-diddly damn motherfucking zom-bitches."
         His breath smelt like old deer and fucking cheese. Yeah, not regular cheese, but "fucking" cheese. It adds some more emphasis on the rank ass odor of the breath.
         "So like.... Do you own any guns?" I asked, although knowing that he damn well has guns, you know, because the bitch is wearing camo. That automatically means he has at least one shotgun.
         "Well now that you mention it, I do indeed have a fucking fuck-ass shotgun!" He said.
         "You do realize you didn't have to use the phrase 'fucking fuck-ass' to describe a simple shotgun right?" I said in disbelief. How could someone be so fucking fucked up to fucking fuck a fucking sentence up like that? FUCK!
         I ended up convincing the guy to give me the shotgun. It was pretty damn easy, you know, cause hicks love to show off their guns, even though every shotgun looks exactly the fucking same. No difference, nothing special about it. I loaded the shotgun and took the safety off. What a nice guy, I thought, for allowing me to re-arm myself.
         The man started off on a story about some random shit, "You know, back in '79 when I was fishing in the ol' creek out dun-diddly about five miles from the good ol' liquor store near the pig farm, I remember catching me a good damn catch! It was just me and ma sister-wife, and we just got done drinkin' us some fine Fireball liquor. It was the finest thing I ever done heard of! So I cast out my father's old pole straight into the creek. Usually, I catch me some small plankton or micro-bacterial phosphorescently luminescent organisms right? But this time, the pole was done strugglin'! I told my sister-wife to hold my beer and 'watch this'. Next thing ya know, I was yankin' the pole straight out of the water. Wowee, it was the biggest god damn catfish you ever done seen! It landed straight in my lap, and--"
         This fools' time was up, and I could tell Alex was bored by the seemingly never-ending story as well, considering he skipped over the fact that he broke his god damn leg, and was sound asleep.
         "You know," I said to the man, interrupting him right in the middle of his shitty catfish story, "It was a great story and all, but I think it's about time you shut the literal fuck up."
         He took a moment, and paused, "Well god damn boy, you dun-diddly have no respect for authoritay!"
         "Wow," I said, "Pretty cool story, but not cool enough to spare your life. It was kinda nice knowing you."
--BOOM-- I shot the fucker right in the skull, blowing chunks of brain all over his truck and the street. No regrets yo.
Alex awoke from his nap by the shotgun blast and slumped over to the "Crime Scene" so to speak, "God damn man, did he ever finish his story?"
"Nope, and thank god too, it sounded like bullshit anyway. This fucker was telling one of those ridiculous fishing stories where somehow the fish he actually caught was exaggerated by like 5x in the story." I explained.
I picked up what was left of the guy's jacket and took some cash out of his wallet, just for shits and giggles. I patched up what I could of Alex's broken leg and gave him some hardcore pain medication and American-made moonshine I found in the bed of the truck. That seemed to work, and he could somewhat limp a little better. We headed down the road, leaving the 30 zombies and dead hick behind.
"Where are we headed man?" Alex asked, beginning to feel just a little buzzed.
"No idea man, no idea.." I responded.
I dug a map out of the glovebox, and thought of where to go next. An idea popped into my head, out of the blue.
"What do you think about playing some good ol' slots?" I asked.
"Well," He responded, half asleep. "Sure, fuck it."
I agreed, fuck it. Might as well have a little fun before we eventually die from the apocalypse. What better way to spend it than in Sin City? We got comfortable and turned on the stereo. Of course, country music played, so I ejected the CD, snapped it in half, and chucked that shit out of the window. I fucking hate country music. I managed to play that 90's CD I picked up at the Commie Camp, and enjoyed the peace from listening to some older songs, back when I was young, before the dead rose out of the fucking ground.

About a week later..........

"We finally made it...." I said, exhausted from the constant driving. Speaking of driving, that CD ended up "driving" me fucking batshit. It was all we had all week to listen to, and it was on a loop! I basically learned every damn word of every song on there.
Alex, feeling less broken but still weak, got out of the truck at the same time as I did. "HA!" He said, "JINX YOU OWE ME A SPRITE!"
"I don't owe you shit nigga." I threw a brick at him, nearly clipping his ear.
"Ahhhhh, fuck u." He said, no really giving a shit about the fact I almost caved his face in with a rectangular, adobe-made weapon of death.
There was a few zombies here and there, obviously. I kind of expected this considering how many shithead liberals use to live in this city. Yeah, gun control worked out quite well here didn't it?
"Hey, look!" Alex pointed to the Stratosphere.
What a ginormous structure it was. A huge towering object jutting into the sky. On top, was a few attractions such as a "cliff-hanger" rollercoaster that still sat close to the end of its track, ready to fall off the top of the towering concrete menace any second. Sandbags covered the small windows of the structure, with only a small hole left open. How strange, I thought. It wasn't until I looked harder that I saw it. The glare, the reflection.... Of a sniper scope.
"RUN!" I yelled to Alex, forgetting the fact that he still couldn't run (lol).
I made a mad dash for the door, hearing shots ring out, but not seeing any bullet impacts hit the ground. We entered the stratosphere. Nothing. Empty. The only thing that stood in front of us was an open elevator. Well shit, might as well go up. I was armed with a shotgun, Alex with his bare hands and bare cock as well. We stepped into the elevator, and hit the top floor button. Strangely, electricity was still in full usability, and the elevator actually started to rise!
"Oh fuck," I said. "Why did we literally just trap ourselves in here.... We're gonna get raped as soon as we hit the top floor."
"Maybe they're understanding people...." Alex said, in a hopeful tone.
"Yeah, cause people sniping us are gonna be so fucking understanding of us." I smacked him accidentally across his face......... "accidentally"
The elevator finally opened to the top floor. The bright sunlight blazed right on my face, as if that asshole ball of gas purposely tried to fuck me over. I couldn't see, but I could hear a bunch of women yelling. Finally, my eyes adjusted. I aimed my gun at the first fuck-face I saw. Some hippie ass furfag wearing a beanie stepped forward towards me, with his hands up.
"Woah maaaannnnn, what's with the gun?" He asked me, and sounded like your typical liberal, gun-banning, coffee-shop-sitting blog writer.
"Well," Alex said, "I could only imagine we have this gun because, oh I don't know, fucking DEMONS HAVE RISEN TO SLAUGHTER US??" He screamed.
"Chill out nigger." I said to the now angry Alex. I mean, he wasn't black, but who cares. I'll still call him a nigger.
More hippies came over to the elevator entrance, wearing "Bernie 2016" and "Save the Wildlife" shirts. I now realized what this was, and laughed. These were just a bunch of assholes hiding. They aren't even dangerous. THAT SNIPER WAS PROBABLY SHOOTING BLANKS! LMAO.
"I would really appreciate if you would put your gun down," Some Feminazi said, "It's really dangerous and kills approximately 200,000 people per year. I don't have any real sources for that but I'll just keep spewing my anti-gun agenda!"
"Fuck you, don't you have some patriarchies to "take down'?" I pointed my shotgun right at her.
She started to cry, as most feminists do when they get proven wrong or have to shut up for once. She ran away to the little cafacross the roof to write about this incident in her blog, as usual. The rest of them looked at me and Alex, wondering why we would even think about "hurting someone's feelings". We started questioning them and figured out that they were just chilling up here. No guns, no real form of government because the "Man can't control us", and nothing else other than a huge supply of food and water. Fucking useless. Just mooching off the post-apocalyptic world as they always do.
"Where's the fucking food?" Alex demanded, pissed off at how clueless these liberals were.
"It's right in there," Some guy wearing a sash-hat pointed at a small little hut.
I went in there alone to secure some supplies for the trip out of Las Vegas. No fucking way was I going to stay there, and Alex was obviously triggered as fuck by the absurdity of the residents of the Stratosphere. I packed a large duffel bag with a few days worth of food and water. I walked out, looking at the dismayed faces of the liberals. I knew they wouldn't do shit about it though. No way would they fight, it's "against their views".
"So," I looked at the crowd of them with their hands still raised. "What do you guys do when you see people being attacked? I know there's plenty of survivors still here, so what happens to them?"
"Well," one of them said "We don't usually help because the raiders are scary, so we mostly just document the assault and use it as propaganda against the Republican Party."
"Fucking retards..." Alex said in disbelief.
"I mean come on, even though I kill people, I still know when to help people in need." I explained. "You fucks make me fucking sick, I hope you die. Actually, you are gonna die. I'm going to FUCKING KILL YOU!"
I shot one of them right in the chest, sending him flying over the rail down hundreds of feet to the streets of Las Vegas. The rest cowered in fear, running in all directions while some took cover. I walked into the elevator, and Alex followed. We listened to the shitty clown music in the elevator as we waited until we hit ground floor.
"So what's the plan?" Alex asked in a stern tone.
"Well, these cowardly fags are gonna get what's coming to them, that's all I'm gonna say..." I retorted.
As we walked out of the front entrance, we came across a few zombies shuffling near our truck. I whistled, gaining their attention. Slowly, I corralled them into the lobby of the Stratosphere. With the help of Alex, we managed to gather about 10 zom-whores into a large group.
"What the fuck is your plan again?" Alex asked, backing away from the approaching horde.
"Well, we're gonna shit down these Hippies throats." I responded with confidence.
"...................That literally doesn't even make sense. Dumbass." Alex looked all retarded-like. But he was right, my plan was pretty awfully explained.
"Basically, we're gonna gather these grimy shitbags and shove them in the elevator. It should take them right up to those liberal douchebags.
So, with all of our strength, we shoved all 10 into the elevator and slammed the top floor button. The doors closed and the zombies began to rise. It would only be a few moments before we heard the screams. Walking back to the truck, we saw a few people jump off the top.
"WATCH OUT!" Alex screamed, pushing me out of the way of a falling body.
The fucker slam-dunked right onto our hood, crushing the hood inwards and damaging the engine. Our attempts to try and start the truck failed.
"God damn it..." I said in disbelief. "See, even when those cafsitting motherfuckers are dead they still manage to ruin shit."
We searched for somewhere to bed down for the night, as the sun was quickly setting. As we searched, more screams came down from the Stratosphere. Suddenly, an explosion rang out.
"See, even some of them secretly carry protection..." I laughed. "Hypocrites.."
"Ummm.... dude....." Alex looked in awe. "We need to get the fuck out of here."
Loud, deep vibrations shook the streets. The Stratosphere began to sway, and shake.
"Oh fuck, the building is coming down! The fucking bomb blew up the supports!" I said, not really knowing if the supports were even damaged. I'm not a fucking architect, I could only guess. But in reality, yeah, the shit was coming down hard, and we only had a matter of time before it started to fall on top of us.
"Get in the sewers!" Alex commanded.
The Stratosphere's foundation began to give, and the once proud, tall-standing needle pointing to the sky, began to topple, right on top of us. Removing the manhole, we quickly slipped down into the sewers. No lights, no supplies, only a fucking gun. What a smart idea right? (sarcasm)
We descended another level, well, more like fell down another fucking level further into the abyss. Lucky too, because the Stratosphere finally smashed down into the street, crushing the first level of the sewer along with it.
"Yo cocksucker," I called out, "You alive?"
"Yeah bitch, don't call me that, or I'll suck your fucking cock you fucking fuck!"
I found the little shit and whacked him across the face with the shotgun for saying such blasphemously gay shit. He recovered quickly and we gave high-fives and shit. It took a few hours, but we managed to find an exit back into the surface.
*I was thinking about writing about us being trapped in the sewers and shit, but that would take a lot of damn time and I donno, what can I write about in the sewers that fucking exciting? Anyway, boom. There we were, back on the streets*
"Oh look, a car that actually fucking works!" Alex said as he began to hotwire a car we found in a Denny's parking lot.
The engine roared to life and we hoped in. He jumped in the passenger seat so he could play some Zelda on his shitty Nintendo DS. As usual, lazy ass.... I began to drive. Las Vegas was behind us now, and it was time to search for new lands. Or should I say, old lands..... homelands...
2 days later.........

Here we were, Arizona. It was the break of dawn after a long drive, and gas was just about empty, but luckily for us, it was just enough to get us where we needed to be. Alex finally awoke to the sun beaming down onto his face.
"Good morning faggot." I said as I pepper-sprayed his face.
"Well shit bro, I never knew you were so...... hot headed..." I laughed at my pun, which was a pretty fucking hilarious pun, because his face was fucking melting off basically.
After recovering, he began to laugh at the whole thing, then hit me with a cast-iron cooking pan. Shit, what can I say, I deserved it. But not that much, that was some painful shit. So I pepper sprayed him one more time. This time it was his mouth so that bitch was crying for a few hours.
"So what are we doing back in Arizona?" Alex questioned. His breath smelt like Hot Tamales and fucking hot wings.
"Well, I've got some business I have to attend to, and I'm sure you do as well...." I answered back.
The car lurched and began to decelerate slowly. The gas was now all gone, empty tank. But it was nothing to worry about, we were right where we needed to be. Our neighborhood stood before us, in shambles, brought down from its status as a pristine, lively community to a complete warzone after the first days of the apocalypse. Apart from the few undead mindlessly wandering and meandering through the houses, it was dead silent.
"Why did you bring us here?" Alex glumly asked.
"I wanted to say goodbye. I never really had the chance to, ya know? I wasn't home when it all went down." I stared at the homes that my neighbors once occupied.
We walked down the road, silencing any opposition from the undead roaming around. Finally, we came up to the road my house was on. The road that Alex's house was on. The road we've lived with all our lives. It was such a minute detail in our regular everyday lives. We drove on it, walked on it, never really paying attention to it. Now, it was the only thing left other than the rubble sitting beside it. It was the only thing that was recognizable anymore.

"There's your house..." Alex pointed into the distance to the end of the road, where a somewhat still-standing structure laid in rest.
It was my home. We made our way to the structure and walked right past where the door would have been. Furniture and clothing was strewn about the house, disorganized, and most likely raided. Pictures though, were still sitting right above the fireplace mantle, left in perfect condition, just as they were the day before the world ended. It was quite a sentimental moment. Walking past trash and broken remnants of my past, we stumbled upon a grisly scene. It was my family. All together. It was obvious they have been there for a very long time. The stench was quite horrid, but I still investigated. There was planks of wood on the windowsills. Most were smashed in, making it look like there was most likely some sort of struggle in the days following the announcement of martial law, when proverbial shit really hit the fan..
"You don't have to do this..." Alex consoled.
"No, I have to. I want to know what happened." I was nearly in tears.
Although the bodies were hard to identify, the wounds were not. It was clear that they died to a gunshot. All of them. Only one gun was in sight, a single handgun, one that my father owned. I counted the bullets left. The magazine could hold 7 bullets, but only now held 4. My father, mother, and brother all lain there, with a bullet hole in each of their skulls. I understood now. It was all coming together. It must have been suicide. It's a much better way to go at least, rather than succumb to the outbreak or starve to death, but still upsetting.
I sat there, in that small area with Alex, taking it all in. He was silent, as was I. The sun filtered into the room and there was an eerie feeling slithering about the room.
"Alright, I've seen what I needed to know. We can go now." I said gloomily to Alex.
Right before leaving I stopped in the doorway.
"What's the matter?" Alex asked concerning.
"I think we should let them rest in peace." I said, referring to the fact that they were still in that room, lying in such sad positions, rotting away. "Not like this, this isn't any peace I would want them to be left in."
I grabbed some matches from what was left from the kitchen, and grabbed a few bottles of hydrogen peroxide from the bathroom cabinets. Pouring the peroxide on the living room furniture, I looked one last time at my home. I took in the last mental images I would ever have of the place I grew up in. Then, I threw the match. Immediately, the fire consumed the dirty carpet. Slowly, the fire grew, and consumed my home. We backed away, through the front door, into the street. Looking at the home burning away left a feeling of closure for me. I now knew what happened to my family, and I now felt a sense of completeness. As if I could suddenly die, and feel like I did all I could in this world to survive, and I could leave this Earth knowing I let my family rest in peace. Ashes. My home was now turning to ashes.
"What now? Where do we go?" Alex whispered, memorized by the fire enveloping the last parts of the second story.
"I'm not sure Alex, wherever the wind takes us." I answered back with a small smile.
         We walked away from the blaze. Down the road we went, trudging away from our problems, hoping to enter into a new path in life. We wanted to let the zombies, the people, everything just fade away. We continued to walk down to the end of the street, turning into an old dirt road. It was peaceful..... The path was clear, and the alfalfa fields shined bright with the luminous touch of sunlight and the warm breeze of the mid-day wind. It was almost like nothing ever happened. It was almost like our families were back, our friends, our future, and for once, we got to remember.... What it was like before the world changed.
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