EXPLICIT WARNING: Again, I cus a lot- I speak extremely freely. The resulting chapter may be offensive to some viewers.

Ch1: A Grim Awakening

The light of the early afternoons sun struck Paul as he reopened his eyes for the first time in what seemed like days but only being a few hours, realizing that he was not in a dream anymore.

Getting back into reality, Paul realized quickly that he would've much rather still been asleep. The fire in front of him from the wreck still raged on, still as powerful as before it seemed.

Out of habit- Paul quickly examined himself for injuries substained from the impact, conducting a quick triage of himself, feeling as much of his body as he could reach, concluding that he had slight pain in the head and a sore back- manageable for the situation it seemed.
Paul looked in the still attached rear view mirror to see that the truck that had impacted him was still there- a big black F250. "Fucking dick better have insurance," thought Paul as he reached for his trusty Glock 22 on the side of his door, "life insurance!"

For some reason, Paul had never fully readapted to the civilian life stlye. He could always carry a smile and even work with others, giving them 110% as always, but never trusting them or feeling 100% at ease with them. The 1st thing he did when he got out, even before getting a job, was getting his concealed handgun permit and buying several personal guns just to comfort the thought of "always being ready for the shit to hit the fan." The Marine Corps had instilled several disciplines in him, some not really meant to be taken the way Paul interpreted them, but never the less, fully lethal when applied. Perhaps it was his generally aggressive nature or maybe that enough bad had happened due to lack of such disciplines- perhaps both.

This came into affect as Paul attached a holster to him, opening the center console and putting 4 loaded magazines in his pocket.
"So close to Juarez, I cant take the risk of some spic druggie being the genius behind me," thought Paul, still semi-dazed. As he was about to open the door to confront the driver- something caught his eyes and made him freeze.
A bloody hand print smeared from his doors window to the rear window behind him. It screamed of an abnormal situation that brought chills to Paul's mind.
"Maybe its time to play it a bit more safer.." Paul thought as he crawled to his back seat- his legs still in the front as he pulled down the back seats, exposing the trunk space.

A deep dent covered half of the trunk- but the part of it that Paul wanted was close at hand lucky for him. Paul grinned as he took out his tactical Mossberg 500 and a back pack full of ammo, putting both in his lap as he prepared to exit his car. Again- preparation was part of his personal standard.
"Maybe Im going overboard. What if what the doc said about me was right" thought Paul again, worrying that his actions may be just a little too out of hand.
"Well the doc aint fuckin here with some spic behind ya that could of killed ya" thought another part of Paul with a voice different than the 1st. Paul shrugged, rationalizing more with the second thought, turning to open the door. His eyes again met the blood smeared on his window- advertising something way out of the norm.
"Shit is getting real," he thought as he opened the door carefully, creaking as it swung open. Paul stepped out, approaching the truck carefully, noticing the front drivers door being open.

Side-stepping to it- Paul saw no one inside, only a blood filled mess, blood dripping from the seats. Looking down, he noticed a blood trail leading from the truck to his car and then to the back of the truck, but blinded by the trucks length and unable to see what the trail led to.
Cautiously, Paul approached the rear of the truck- taking each step silently as to not alarm what ever it was that awaited him on the other side.
As he reached the rear of the truck, he saw a women on her knees face first in a mans chest, his body twitching slightly.

"O shit! Is he ok Ms?!" exclaimed Paul- taking a step forward.
The woman raised her head quickly- slowly turning her head to connect eyes with Paul, the same milky white eyes that he had seen not long before. More quickly did he realize that the man on the ground had a bit of his small intestines hanging out of him, now in the girls mouth. The woman rose slowly.
"Hey lady- you need some real fuckin help- stay the fuck back bitch!" warned Paul, raising his shotgun quickly. The woman opened her mouth, pieces of meat falling to the ground as she started growling as she stepped forward animal like. As soon as her foot placed firmly forward- Paul put a single round to her chest- sending her flying back against the truck.

"O shit," thought Paul in a panic.

The grim reality of the situation started to fill Pauls head with the fear of the law and the consequences of his instinctual reaction to the womans failure to comply with his order.

"What did I just do..."
"It was self-defense right?"
"Of course it was self-defense- the lady killed that man and was planning on killing you!"
"Well maybe we should hide the bodies!"
"Or maybe..."

Paul phased back in to see what his blast had done to the lady.

He had hit her in the heart, clearly noticable by the amount of blood now covering the side of the truck. He took a deep breath, clearing his head, slowly realizing that the world around him was going to shit quick as the smoke filled his lungs.

The sounds of screams and gun shots quickly filled his ears, their sounds being consistent and piercing, obviously had going on for some time now- Paul only barely noticing. The streets were filled with wrecked cars where only hours before- had been scarce at most and ravenous people commiting random assaults on each other.
"What the fuck is going on.." said Paul aloud as the woman rose to her feet, unnoticed by Paul.

Pauls heart sank as quick as the woman was on top of him, taking him to the ground in her suprise lunge on him. She snapped and clawed at Paul, trying to land her teethe wherever they may land. Controlling her head with his hands, Paul managed to get his feet to his chest and kick the woman off, quickly drawing his pistol as she lunged back forward, being met by a two round burst to her torso and head, her limp body falling to the ground next to him.

Taking a few breathes still on the ground, Paul quickly recovered to his feet and stumbled to his car, putting on his ammo filled back pack and opening his glove comparment, taking out two other pistols and their magazines; a Glock 21SF and a Glock 19 and put them in his bag. "Im not going out without a fuckin fight" said Paul as he crawled back out of his car. Paul took two steps forward as he realized that he had the attention of several ravenous people in all directions.


Taking off in a sprint in the opposite direction of the fire, Paul made out at least 12 people locked on him. The cars were bumper to bumper- doors open and abandoned, making for huge barriers for Paul, but also his ravenous chasers. Paul skidded over two cars connected hood-to-hood and continued his run, but being met by a man staring at him with the milky white eyes. Instictively, a round met the man in the throat- sending him down as Paul continued to run.

As fast as Paul was, these ravenous people were well determined to keep up. Paul looked back to realize this and stepped it up, putting his shotgun to his hip and sending another woman down with a shot to her chest as she sprang from around a car.
As soon as the woman hit the ground, Paul saw a border patrol jeep parked with its driver door open. "Jackpot!" thought Paul as he raced towards it- putting all of his energry into the nearing sanctuary.
Upon arrival of the Jeep- Paul looked in the back seat to make sure he would be driving alone- confirming it was clear and slammed the door just as his pursuers arrived.

Paul quickly locked the door- but realized the people banging on the door had absolute no interest in using the door handle- only mindlessly trying to get in. Paul quickly scrambled for the ignition, unfortunently finding no keys. "Damn it!" yelled Paul as he franticlly searched the inside of the Jeep. Stopping to take a breath, thinking to himself "where is the most cleshayish place to have a spare set of keys?" Upon thinking that, lowering the sun visor, the keys dropping in his lap. Giving a silent thanks to movies like "Terminator 2" and others with such scenes, Paul started the Jeep.

Before taking off, Paul looked outside the window, observing the people trying to get in. They seemed sad, all sharing the same milky white eyes with the same task of trying to kill the contents of the Jeep. Each had an individual mark on their body, blood soaking on their clothes and skin- bite marks mainly on their arms and necks- pieces of skin completely ripped from their bodies. "Zombies. Great." The radio interupted with a paniced news man screaming "The INFECTED have taken over a majority of downtown, central and parts of East El Paso! Stay in your homes- lock the doors- hide yourselves- we are all gunna die!!" Paul chuckled grimmly- "Zombies. Infected. Meh."

Paul put the Jeep in drive, speeding up the road as the new found enemy failed to keep up with the vehicle as it swirved left and right avoiding the wreckage of the road.
Driving back down the road he had driven just mere hours before seemed like the Twilight Zone to Paul; the infected slaughtered every person that came into their grips- swarming them with their overwhelming numbers. A few people trapped in their cars screamed as more tried to get into their vehicles, violently smashing at the windows- some succeding in the older vehicles with their weaker windows.

Paul thought past helping the seemingly doomed people, realizing that he needed to get off the road quick to stay alive himself. Having no squad to take care of and no squad to take care of him, it was easy for him to realize that his own survival was detrimental over others that he didnt know or care for.

In the near distance, Paul could see the bridge leading to downtown El Paso had been completely littered with abandoned cars and infected dotting the pile up. "Fuck it- neccessary risk I guess" thought Paul to himself as he managed to manuever around the cars, getting to the base of the bridge- only feet away from two cars meeting bumper to bumper.
"Now or never" said Paul in a low mumer as he looked to his left at the railroad tracks. Paul turned off the Jeep, putting the keys back where he found them and closed the door, shot gun in hand, pistol in holster, pack on his back. He looked at the 1/4 mile bridge he had to pass to get where he wanted to be. "Now or never."

To Be Continued...Next Thursday- Stay tuned for Chapter 2: The Heart of the Problem