28 days later meets Night of the Living Dead

[Goat Face]

The Lawnmower blades raored through the dead Indiana countryside. He was wondering when his father would come home from Cambridge. The little town had become one of the few safe havens for refugees, although recently it had been crawling with those...those things. The survivor took a look around at all the dead crops. The army had promised to harvest them the month before. Yeah right, they had a hard enough time getting through the armies of World War 3. This entire world was a wreck after the troops came home.
He thought he heard something. Finally his dad was seen wheeling the cart down the road. The cart was almost empty. " Hey everyone!! He's back!!!" His voice echoed through the death that surrounded them. Out of the house came out about a dozen other people who had somehow managed to not get devoured by the new strain of flu. The father, Cyrus, wheeled the cart up to the back door." Is that all?" Zoey asked." The whole F$$$ing TOWN IS GONE!!! ALL GONE!!"
Everyone surrounded Cyrus and tried to calm him. The survivor asked his father if he had seen any military trucks. His father just looked blankly at the dead lawn, the dead world that they had had been forced into. Everyone just gave out a deep sorrowful murmur. He looked down at his dad and howled. His father had a large bite wound on his hand...to be continued

[Red Hot]

**Awaits in anticipation for more**
Very creative!

[vampirexpsycho]

Woot woot. I adore 28 Days Later! =3 Good job, I'll be waiting for more.+

[Horrorman]

Good stuff. We need more like you.

[Goat Face]

I will get back to the writing in a minute, as soon as I get the courage

[Goat Face]

Okay, finally back...

later that night, the survivor sat in his second story room, flicking a lighter. He saw about a dozen of the mutated outside. They were beating on the fortified structure like mad dogs.He was glad that the horde had not discovered their location, that would be very,very bad. The horde are the only ones who can use weapons, and they are particularly vicious. He never dreamed anymore. This outpost, as it was called, was no longer in service. Since Cambridge was gone, all of the resistors to the plague had simply given up and tried to flee north. That was pointless, he thought, those sons of bitches will find them no matter where you go.
He picked up his rifle and headed out to his bedside window to shoot some of them off of the side of the house. The regular ones...the ones that were still alive, went down in just a few shots, but the horde...oh god no. Alex, a woman that was found in Richmond, a destroyed city, was calling him down. "What the hell do you want?! I'm in the middle of something!" "we just picked up another outpost on the new radio, about twenty or so miles west of here." He sprung up, and flew down the stairs, two at a time. But that's when the sirens started...the big sirens, sirens that had not been used since the horde migrated here last year...