A thump at my window woke me up immediately. After jumping and screaming about for a few minutes over the fact that there was a zombie outside my window, and establishing that it was not a fake after turning on the television to see the breaking news footage of an overrun city, I stopped and thought rationally. Food, water, and weapons were the main three things that I would need to survive this, and I fully intended to survive.

I closed and locked all of the doors and windows, checked the house for zombies and my animals for bites, and set to work. I filled every available container with tap water, filling my counter top with them. I tried the phone, but the lines were busy. I horded all of the food into the safest room, and then started moving water.

Lastly, I found all of the weapons I could think of - shovels, kitchen knives, garden tools, broomsticks, everything. I absentmindedly wished my brother still lived with us, he had a gun safe. I closed the sliding door to the rest of the house and tried the phone again. No luck, the lines weren't even busy now, there was no dial tone at all.

Thoughts of my family and friends crept into my head. Chances were that all of them were dead. My mom had gone to work earlier that morning, her car was gone. I fell to my knees in the hallway. My dog, Charlie, licked my face to remove the tears.

"They're dead, but I'm not," I told myself. "I'm not and I can keep it that way." Slowly, heavily, I got to my feet. "Trevor will come for me." He being my boyfriend of three years. He didn't live far. I started to pack my bags with all the useful stuff that I had, a separate few with sentimental crap that I couldn't part with. I put my set of walkie-talkies on the charger, having a feeling they could come in handy.

Blankets, clothes, pillows, batteries, flashlights, my camping lantern, matches, tools... As I looked around my room again, I spotted my hair spray (read: blowtorch) and threw it into the bag as well. I looked through the bag of things I couldn't or didn't want to let go, which included a photo album, my baby book, old stuffed animals, old notebooks and sketchbooks, favorite clothing, my baby blanket, and a box of stupid trinkets. I decided to pull a few things out.

Outside, a car horn trumpeted repeatedly. I jumped and came to my window as Trevor's Bronco rolled up alongside it. I pushed open the safety latch on the bars across my window, sliding the frame up and kicking out the screen. I was delighted to see him unharmed and driving, his little brother, Mark, in the back seat and excited as if he were in an arcade. He rolled down the window in line with my bedroom window and demanded, "Get in."

I started passing Mark the bags I had, Trevor getting impatient as the shambling dead moved closer. "Where are we going?" I asked, feeling that it was a relevant question.

"We gotta go get Bundy and Vinny," he said, his two best friends. Both were in the Marines, and home for two weeks. I couldn't decide if it was lucky or unlucky that they were here, but we both knew that they would have the training needed to survive, and a lot more ammunition than we already had. Trevor had his father's gun safe in the back, and I spotted the shotgun between his legs, among the two pistols in the cup holders. I grabbed up the biggest things of water that I had, passing them over, and then the best food that had the most chance of surviving the trip before I climbed into the car. He threw it into reverse and we were flying down the street shortly.

Hesitantly, I asked, "Can we go by Bri's house?" He shot me a glare, but nodded and took the detour. As we pulled up, I spotted her on her roof. We honked loudly and Trevor pulled up right alongside her house. She wisely dropped two bags down to me, which I threw in the back, and she climbed in the back window from the roof of the car.

Trevor picked up a radio I previously hadn't noticed, listening for a moment before he spoke into it, speeding down the street towards Vinny's house. "Vinny, I'm on my way. Can you get a car? We don't have enough room in the Bronco. Over." He was given back the affirmative, and for the first time, I didn't regret buying him the radio set. I turned around and looked at Bri, who was clutching her bag tightly. Trevor radioed to Bundy, "Bundy, are you getting gas? Over."

"I'm at the gas station on Carson and Cherry. Can't miss me, I'm filling up the back of my truck with gas cans. Over." I smiled. It was a good idea. I thought back to Resident Evil and their gas tanker... We needed one of those if we intended to keep moving. Holing up was usually a better idea. We'd know within six months whether this was an isolated event, or if it was the apocalypse.

He replied, "Vinny, meet us there. Over." He made a sharp turn and we headed that way. I turned on the car's radio to the information station, listening to the emergency broadcast system.

"THIS IS NOT A TEST. THIS IS A NATIONAL EMERGENCY. PLEASE PROCEED TO THE NEAREST RED CROSS STATION. YOUR LOCAL STATION IS THE HILTON HOTEL ON LAKEWOOD BOULEVARD."

I looked at Trevor. "We're not going there."

He argued, "That's the first place the National Guard will evacuate."

Shaking my head, I replied, "You never go where the radio says. People are stupid and get bitten, get in there while still alive and spread it once they're dead. It'll be a slaughterhouse. Our best bet is to find a two-story house in a suburb, reinforce it, and stay put."

Glaring at me, he said, "This is not a movie."

"If we stay on the move, we'll run out of gas. If we stay put in one stronghold, we'll be fine and get picked up eventually."

"Fine," he bit out. I always won.

We pulled into the gas station, alongside one of the pumps. Trevor told me, "Pump the gas," and got out of the other side with his shot gun, picking off the zombies that spotted us. We were lucky it was so early on and there weren't hordes yet. I got out of the other side, picking up the radio and telling Bundy to, "Ring up $50 on 6."

The pump beeped and I filled the tank, moving the Bronco out of the way as Vinny's car rolled up behind me. Trevor had gone into the station with Bundy. I yelled out of the moon roof at Vinny to, "Fill your tank! We'll need it!" He nodded to me, and I covered him. I wasn't a bad shot, so long as I had my glasses on. Bundy's truck squealed out of the gas station, Trevor in the passenger seat, so I assumed I was in charge of the Bronco. I made sure Vinny was back in his car before I rolled after the truck. I radioed to them again, "We need to go to the Town Center. You two go to Lowe's, get sheet metal and a ton of wood, nails, welding stuff, everything to reinforce a house. Vinny, go find a gun shop and get everything we'll need to keep these bastards back for a while. Explosives too if you can find them. I'm going to Wal-Mart." I stopped, and then remembered, "Over."

Trevor angrily replied, "You're not going alone!"

"I'm not alone," I told him haughtily. "And I'm getting Allan on the way." Allan wasn't much for fighting, but he was brilliant and I knew that he'd know the correct way to reinforce a house. He was a good shot too from too many video games.

We took off in our different directions, keeping in touch over the radio system. I loved the Bronco, it's V6 engine plowing straight through zombies without a second thought. I pulled up right in front of Allan's house, honking repeatedly. I yelled out the moon roof, "ALLAN! Come on!"

With no response, I assumed the worst. I had been friends with him since kindergarten. I couldn't wait for long, and I slowly rolled away from the house. I sighed and headed to the town center like I said I would. I pulled up in front of the front entrance of Wal-Mart, effectively blocking the front doors. I knew it was likely that there was some dead things inside, but it didn't matter. I had guns. "Bri, c'mon. Mark, stick close." I handed him a pistol, knowing that he knew how to use it. He got a serious look on his face and nodded.

I grabbed a cart, directing them to do the same. We had a pow-wow in the front entrance. "We're gonna need food. Look for things that don't expire for a year or more - twinkies, condensed milk, crisco, stuff to cook with, instant stuff. Nothing perishable, no dairy. Capeiche?" They both nodded. I didn't want to leave Mark alone, but the store seemed deserted. "Keep your eyes peeled. Don't corner yourself. Yell the second you think you're in trouble." I looked at Mark especially for that.

I went towards the food aisles, pulling out boxes of powdered milk. It wasn't the same, but I was a freak for milk. I found some sodas, knowing that they'd be more of a luxury than a necessity. I kept the gun in the front of the cart, pointed away from me, looking back and forth. I heard gunshots, and Mark yelled, "I got one! I'm okay!"

I rolled my eyes and yelled back, "Good for you!" I found the pasta aisle and pretty much emptied it, getting all kinds of noodles and sauces. I made three trips back to the Bronco, filling up most of the back seat, except some space for Mark, under the seats, over the bags in the back, and most of the foot space on the passenger side. We'd need it all. I grabbed the radio and told Trevor and Bundy, "Look for some solar stuff." I found batteries and took all of them, filling the cart, and found another flashlight. "Mark! Grab me some Nutty Bars and candy on your way out!" I yelled. "The car's almost full!"

Looking around again, I emptied my cart into the car. I radioed to the guys, "How are you doing guys?"

Vinny answered first, "My back seat is full of shot guns, rifles, and as much ammunition as I could find."

Bundy answered next, "We split up to look for all the stuff you asked for. There's no sheet metal, but we found plenty of ply wood, and solar stuff is all over the place."

"Think low energy. We'll be running on a generator and solar power, so we can't use much," I told him. "Yell at Trev to make sure he's okay, please."

He didn't answer. I sat in the Bronco, the pistol in my lap, and worried for the next five minutes until he told me, "Trev wants to take the fork lift."

I rolled my eyes. "It doesn't go fast enough. Hurry up." Vinny pulled up in front of Wal-Mart, and I directed the next cart full of supplies to his passenger seat. Now that the cars were full, we had to find somewhere to stay. I thought hard. It would have to be a two-story house, with a hill preferable, and maybe with solar power. "We're going to Signal Hill," I said decidedly.

The boys followed me as I led them up the sloping back way, finding one of the gated communities with an open gate. I directed them to close the gate behind us, and lock it. I chose the house at the end of the culdesac, and parked in the driveway. I got out, keeping the keys in one hand and the gun in the other. The guys came towards me, and we discussed our options.

"We can stay in here comfortably," I said seriously. "It's gated, so there's no way the dead things can get in. They can't climb anyways, so coming up the hill is hard. Plus, all of these houses have solar panels. We're set." I grinned. I felt so smart.