Dead Society Alumni - Part One
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Governments do not exist. There is no such thing as a military anymore, although we are all soldiers. You are not being protected if you are not protecting yourself.
There is no such thing as a normal life anymore.
The dead have risen, and the world has fallen.
But a group of survivors have come together, and we are trying to make a difference in the world. We are trying to claim back what is rightfully ours. We are what stands between the plague and human extinction.
We are the Dead Society Alumni.
My name is Taylor, one of the founding members of the DSA, and I guess you can call this is my graduation.
enough catalyst for anyone to want to commit suicide. The tears start running down his cheeks as he realizes that his time on this scorned earth is coming to an end – courtesy of me. I walk over and grab the pistol out of his trembling hands and hold it to his head as he hung it in shame. I look down at this pathetic lump of skin and bone. A bullet in the head would not be appropriate; it wouldn’t be a horrible enough way for this asshole to go; suffice to say that this dick deserves a horrible
look through the window at the two zombies on the floor who are tied to chairs. There is a third body lying on the floor, untied and free, but dead. It looks just like a normal person, but the classroom isn’t greatly exposed to light so it’s hard to make out. The zombies tied to the chairs still move, though not well, they are incredibly slow, but there is movement and their groans are weak. But they are still making an effort to get to me, they aren’t even trying to wriggle free of the ropes
epoch like this. I would shoot the dog if it posed any greater threat to me – or if I could spare the bullets. The idea of kicking a dog like I had just done didn’t sit too well with me, but these are desperate times and I have no care for anyone who may claim animal cruelty. If they were here, I’d definitely waste a bullet or two. Across the backyard now and into the house and close the back door behind me. The dog was back on its feet now and it barks and jumps up at the back door. The bloody
room. It was the sound of fists furiously beating against the door. It startles me a little. The thumping was ferocious and constant. I stand up and lean over the counter and look down the short corridor, expecting the door to give way any second now. I had felt the man’s pulse, or lack of, and it was gone, he was dead. But now he was back on his feet and attacking the door, trying to break it down. That was it, it had now sunk in. This was for real. This was no longer something that you saw in
and I shine the light back as the zombies found their way in and follow behind us but they aren’t a danger. Unless they accidentally reach for the door handle and open it, otherwise they will be kept in that cabin, banging their bodies against the door with the “pull open” sign on it. In the cockpit we both stand and stare at the control panel as the door slowly shuts behind us. We have no idea what we are looking at, or how it works. I push some buttons and pull down the throttle but nothing