The Plague (Book 0): Day Zero by Ryan Cecere Page A
Authors: Ryan Cecere
Tags: Zombie Apocalypse
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fucked up right now…,” Decker slurred into the camera.
Decker recorded himself mostly talking about some stuff in his life and about himself during his walk home. He mentioned how he wanted to become the next Steven Spielberg or even Wes Craven or Michael Bay…eh, maybe not that last one. But he wanted to be one of the big boys, the top dogs in Hollywood. First on his agenda was to make a documentary about his life; followed by working the indie film circuit and finally reaching the top of the ladder with major motion pictures.
Along the way he came across and shot footage of a young couple. The girl was giving her man oral at the bus stop with no care in the world of who saw. Decker chuckled, “And the freaks come out at night.” He whispered, “God, that’s one lucky fuck,” the camera catching slightly what he said.
Two blocks from the bus stop, Decker patted around in his pockets, searching for the pouch containing his bowl. Crap! Must’ve dropped it back at the park.
He spun around, and headed back past Mike’s apartment, back to the long stretch of road that led into the park—gripping onto the fence for balance, head spinning, nausea setting in.
Decker turned on the camera and began to record a man who was stumbling and twitching just down the road. “This guy must be tripping or something,” he laughed. “I wonder what he’s on.”
The man made an abrupt stop, then jolted his head up—like a bird moves its head—and glared deep into Decker’s eyes . Decker paused. “Ummm…”
The man screamed. Saliva spat out of his mouth. He sprinted his way towards Decker.
“What the fuck…? Holy shit!”
Decker turned around, pointing the camera. The man that was chasing him turned his attention suddenly to a homeless guy walking down the street with a shopping cart full of empty bottles; and jumped on top of him. The homeless guy screamed for the attacker to get off him. The attacker dug its hand into the homeless guy’s stomach, pulling out a chunk of organs coated in blood.
Sweat dripped off of Decker’s forehead. He couldn’t just sit back and let the guy die like that.
He put his camera down on the ground and ran over. Decker punted the attacker in the jaw, only to no effect. He threw the attacker to the ground and began beating him with his fists. With everything he had, Decker punched the attacker’s head in, cracking it opened like an egg. Blood covered his bruised knuckles. He exhaled and inhaled rapidly.
Decker went over to check on the homeless guy. His body was lifeless, ripped apart to the point that his ribs and organs were no longer inside his body, but scattered on the ground. Decker bent over, puking everywhere.
He regained most of his composure before picking up his camera. “Oh, my God… Oh, my God,” he panicked. “He’s dead. He’s fucking dead! What the fuck just happened?”
Decker’s petrified expression turned to disbelief and shock as he saw the homeless guy start to stand up. “No way. No way. NO WAY!”
The corpse ran after Decker and tackled him to the ground. The camera glided across the pavement. Decker tangled with the corpse for freedom. Somehow, with a jolt of adrenaline, Decker managed to get on top of the zombie. He grabbed the camera and used it to bash the creature’s head in until it no longer made any movement. With every hit, more and more blood squirted out. DIE , Decker screamed with each shot.
“What the fuck is going on…,” his hands shaking.
Decker turned off the camera, unknowing that the first attacker was still alive behind him…
Chapter 2
“Roy”
Monday, October 13, 2014
South Bronx, NY
9:23 a.m.
Roy had been nothing more than a low-ranked delivery and pick-up guy for his gang since he first entered the street life at the age of ten. One word described Roy. One powerful word.
Ambitious.
The day was coming where he was going to skip the promotion of Middle-Man and jump start to overthrowing the leader and
Decker recorded himself mostly talking about some stuff in his life and about himself during his walk home. He mentioned how he wanted to become the next Steven Spielberg or even Wes Craven or Michael Bay…eh, maybe not that last one. But he wanted to be one of the big boys, the top dogs in Hollywood. First on his agenda was to make a documentary about his life; followed by working the indie film circuit and finally reaching the top of the ladder with major motion pictures.
Along the way he came across and shot footage of a young couple. The girl was giving her man oral at the bus stop with no care in the world of who saw. Decker chuckled, “And the freaks come out at night.” He whispered, “God, that’s one lucky fuck,” the camera catching slightly what he said.
Two blocks from the bus stop, Decker patted around in his pockets, searching for the pouch containing his bowl. Crap! Must’ve dropped it back at the park.
He spun around, and headed back past Mike’s apartment, back to the long stretch of road that led into the park—gripping onto the fence for balance, head spinning, nausea setting in.
Decker turned on the camera and began to record a man who was stumbling and twitching just down the road. “This guy must be tripping or something,” he laughed. “I wonder what he’s on.”
The man made an abrupt stop, then jolted his head up—like a bird moves its head—and glared deep into Decker’s eyes . Decker paused. “Ummm…”
The man screamed. Saliva spat out of his mouth. He sprinted his way towards Decker.
“What the fuck…? Holy shit!”
Decker turned around, pointing the camera. The man that was chasing him turned his attention suddenly to a homeless guy walking down the street with a shopping cart full of empty bottles; and jumped on top of him. The homeless guy screamed for the attacker to get off him. The attacker dug its hand into the homeless guy’s stomach, pulling out a chunk of organs coated in blood.
Sweat dripped off of Decker’s forehead. He couldn’t just sit back and let the guy die like that.
He put his camera down on the ground and ran over. Decker punted the attacker in the jaw, only to no effect. He threw the attacker to the ground and began beating him with his fists. With everything he had, Decker punched the attacker’s head in, cracking it opened like an egg. Blood covered his bruised knuckles. He exhaled and inhaled rapidly.
Decker went over to check on the homeless guy. His body was lifeless, ripped apart to the point that his ribs and organs were no longer inside his body, but scattered on the ground. Decker bent over, puking everywhere.
He regained most of his composure before picking up his camera. “Oh, my God… Oh, my God,” he panicked. “He’s dead. He’s fucking dead! What the fuck just happened?”
Decker’s petrified expression turned to disbelief and shock as he saw the homeless guy start to stand up. “No way. No way. NO WAY!”
The corpse ran after Decker and tackled him to the ground. The camera glided across the pavement. Decker tangled with the corpse for freedom. Somehow, with a jolt of adrenaline, Decker managed to get on top of the zombie. He grabbed the camera and used it to bash the creature’s head in until it no longer made any movement. With every hit, more and more blood squirted out. DIE , Decker screamed with each shot.
“What the fuck is going on…,” his hands shaking.
Decker turned off the camera, unknowing that the first attacker was still alive behind him…
Chapter 2
“Roy”
Monday, October 13, 2014
South Bronx, NY
9:23 a.m.
Roy had been nothing more than a low-ranked delivery and pick-up guy for his gang since he first entered the street life at the age of ten. One word described Roy. One powerful word.
Ambitious.
The day was coming where he was going to skip the promotion of Middle-Man and jump start to overthrowing the leader and
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