Chapter 1: Letter

I'm Scared.

If you are reading this, you are another survivor, like me.

From what you've seen within my once humble home, you must've been shocked. Those things moving in the basement, the kitchen and almost everywhere in this house, you must've taken care of it or you are cautious about it.

For making it this far, I've reserved ammo, weapons, food and water to you and for whoever you're with inside one of the cabinets in the kitchen. But beware, you may never know when those things will come and get you.

I am now on my own. The only thing I loved turned before my eyes, an accident – a moment of carelessness. The fault lies with me, next to my broken heart, next to the mountain of guilt. I have left this place to go wherever the next journey begins. I hope I see you there.

PS: If you're wondering where I went or may have interest in travelling together, I am heading towards Fukuoka, the place that's rumored to be safe and normal. Please call my number written below as soon as possible before the signals go down.

03-XXX-XXX

See you soon,

Mikan Sakura

Age: 16

Another survivor, waiting to be rescued.

This note was written at the 11th day of May. A week after those things started walking around.

I folded the paper and kept in safe in my pocket for future use. Whoever this girl was must've been nice of her to leave some necessities behind. But in these times, you can never really trust no one.

I shrugged then went to the kitchen, stepping on the dead and bloody bodies on the ground once every few steps. There were eight zombies in this house when I arrived – I shot them as soon as I saw them. Good thing is, there aren't a horde of zombies outside so the echo coming from the gunshot didn't attract much attention from those others wandering around outside.

I checked every cabinet that was locked or opened. There were about two dozens of canned foods and a gallon of water in here and you don't want to know what she left for weapons and ammo. But I'll tell you anyway.

Rifles, pistols, nail guns, shot guns, sub-machine guns… seriously what kind of parents does this girl have? Who gives their daughter some action-packed weapons for gods' sake!

I stacked my backpack with some water, canned foods, ammo and some weapons. I took a glance at the clock hanging by the stairs. It was already twelve in the afternoon, signaling that it was time for me to head off.

I silently made my way back to my motorcycle, paying attention of the things around me. Starting my bike, I took a deep breath and sped off.

My name is Natsume Hyuuga if you insist on knowing; seventeen years-old and a normal high school student. I was alone at home when the apocalypse started about a week ago. I specialize in pretty much all of the self-defense sports out there, these talents that I never really thought to be useful until now.

I took out my phone – and yes while driving – and dialed the number that was written on the paper. Lucky for me, there's still signal but no electricity; having signal is much better anyway.

I waited desperately for somebody to answer but nothing came.

"Shit!" I shook my head, frowning. Taking a deep breath, I dialed again.

"M-Moshi, moshi?" A sweet and soft voice echoed out the phone. My eyes widened and I sighed, relieved. It's been a while since I talked to someone.

"Mikan Sakura?" I asked, turning by the curve.

I heard some moans – zombie moans – by the phone and frowned. "Who are you?"

"Some guy." I paused for a moment and continued on. "I found your letter."

"It hasn't even been a day since I left that house…" She mumbled all to herself.

"I see. What's your name?" She asked kindly. I hesitated to tell it at first but told it anyway.

"Natsume Hyuuga." I stopped driving and went on standby for a while.

"Why did you call?"

"Where are you?"

"Behind you."

I blinked a few times and turned to see what was behind me. And my eyes widened.

Long, silky light-brown colored hair, innocent chocolate-brown orbs and a figure a model could kill for. She had silky-white colored skin that was obvious under that dirt.

She had a rifle in her hands. A grenade, pistol, ammo and a pepper spray hanging by the waist. Two katanas and a small backpack on her back, a knife sticking out of her boots and a smile on her face.

Looks like I talked with a butt-kicking girl here.

Reviews would be greatly appreciated. This is to know whether if I should continue writing or not. It all depends on you guys ^-^ For now, let's see the feed back of the people around xP If I like what I see I might update and make this into a 25 chapter story :) For now, goodbye xD