Hope On The Rocks/Issue 1

This is Issue 1 of Hope On The Rocks, entitled "Pilot".

This issue is Miles-centric.

101, Pilot
I live in a three room apartment, with my parents and sister. When i woke up this morning, i had no idea the first thing i’d do was to kill my sister. But that happened. She was trying to kill me, so i crushed her skull with a baseball bat. It took me several minutes to get up and check for my parents, who had already gone to work. I turned on the TV, where an old man explained about the zombies. It didn’t took me long to realize what happened; i have watched a lot of zombie movies. I shut down the TV and went to pack a bag; clothes, bottled water and food. I then took my baseball bat and began to run.

I live in centrum in Waynesburg, a small city that consists of apartments and small rich-man houses.

Oh, yea. I haven’t introduced myself. I’m Miles Vance. Student in Waynesburg Eastern High School. I’m 17 years old, and currently i’m running away from a dozen zombies. In a matter of hours, people began to die and eat each other. It turns out, that you don’t have to be bit to turn; we all carry the virus or what it is. Well, so they said on the news.

Exhausted, i turn William’s Boulevard and confront a massive ammount of zombies. They quickly see me, and i am forced to turn around. Though, there’s zombies surrounding me now. I look around; my only hope would be the small alley. Exhausted, but not willing to give up, i run towards the alley. As i run into it, i see a man in his 40’s killing zombies with a hammer. The zombies are slowly, and hungry, approaching the man.

“Hey!” I yell, and take a quick glimpse behind me. The zombies are coming into the alley. I look back at the overweight man. Sweat is dripping from his gray, greasy hair, down his nervous face and down in his gray full beard. He takes a glimpse at me, and then continues to crush zombie’s skulls.

“Kid, c’mere.” He yells to me. I look behind me again. The zombies are barely ten meters away. I run to the man and begin to help him clearing the alley.

“What’s your name, kid?” The man asks casually, like we’re having an everyday conversation.

“Miles Vance.” I say, briefly confused, and kill a zombie. With the alley almost clear now, the man moves forward, with zombies pushing in behind us.

“Name’s Odin.” The man says and begins to run out of the valley.

Out of the valley, we realize we’ve gone from the ash to the fire; this road is totally filled with zombies. The so-called “refugee centers” in the streets never helped anyone. Actually, it just produced more zombies.

“In here!” A voice yells.

We both look. A man is standing in the doorway to an old bar called The Rocks. I’ve never been in there, but i haven’t actually been in any bars. I was in a pub once with one of my friends, but that’s about it.

The zombies are still approaching. I turn around to check far away the zombies are, and how much time we have, when i see an old woman with snapping teeth. I swing the baseball bat and knock her over. I then follow the man, Odin, into the bar, where a man in shirt, jeans and bolo tie closes the door after me.

“You’re bit?” A black man, from inside the bar, asks. The short haired african-american has a bloody t-shirt, with a barely visible ‘Role Model’, printed on it.

“Nope.” Odin says and gives the black man a big smile.

I look around. Only the two men and a women are in there. I reconize the woman. Her name is Ellis Wayne. She lives underneath me. I only know her name from the mailbox; i’ve never had a conversation with her.

She seems to be in her 20’s. With long, brown hair, and shining blue eyes, she is currently looking at me and Odin.

“You?” The black man barks and looks at me.

“No... I’m not bit.” I say and take a look around; the man who let us in are standing behind the counter, trying to fix a TV. The black man are standing at the same table which Ellis are sitting at. With tables and chairs in the most of the room, The Rocks looks like a really cozy bar.

“What’s going on out there?” Ellis asks with a glass of some kind of whiskey in her hand.

“I told you, woman. It’s the damn end of the world.” The black man barks, still standing up.

Ellis ignores him and keep her look at Odin, who nods.

“Well, unfortantly he’s right.” Odin says with a rusty voice.

“The dead are coming alive.” The black man tells her.

Drunk, Ellis looks at me and says: “You’re my neighbour, aren’t you?”

I nod with the words: “Yes, m’am.”

“You must be a Vance, right?” Ellis manages a smile.

“Miles Vance, yes. You’re Ellis.” I say, still standing near the door.

Ellis smiles even brighter now. With a nod, she looks at Odin and asks: “And you are?”

“Odin Thormann. Janitor at Waynesburg Western High School.” He says and smiles. I look and realize that he is wearing a jumpsuit with the name ‘Odin’ printed on. Odin looks at the man behind the counter and asks: “And what’s your name?”

The man turns around, and reveals a brown goatee, that matches his light brown hair. “Texas.” He says. With a nod towards the black man he says: “That’s Chad.”

“You’ve fixed that TV yet?” The black man, apparently Chad, barks.

“Hold on a minute, brother.” Texas says and takes a screwdriver from underneath the counter.

I look at the counter. A double barreled shotgun and two bullets are laying next to a bottle of scotch.

Later that day, we are all looking at the TV, sitting on each our barstool. An old news host are standing next to a tank, military men running behind him. Screams and gunshots can be heard in the background.

An even louder gunshot can be heard. Supposing it’s from the TV, we all continue to watch the horryfing news. Knocks on a door and people yelling can be heard now, and we all look at the door. In four long steps, Texas goes to the door and opens it. Chad takes the shotgun, in case zombies would come inside.

A couple in their early 30’s are standing outside with their daughter, who are shooting zombies with a Walther GSP.

As the couple comes inside, and the girl turns around, i realize who they are; the girl is my classmate, Lia Camper. 17 years old and a very good precision shooter. A little smaller than me and light curly hair, my brown eyes and her green eyes meet for a second. As Texas closes the door, Lia jerks.

“These are the last ones, Texas!” Chad barks at the bartender. Texas nods without any words.

Lia’s dad, Nick, has short, brown hair and a 9 inch beard. Her mom, Helen, has black hair. A black dress covers Helen’s legs from the knees and up.

“Miles?” Lia says and shoves the pistol down in a hulster. She gives me a hug and asks: “Where are your family?”

I look down, only seeing Lia’s shoulder. I stutter as i answer: “They’re dead.”

Silent, we continue to hug, while Nick and Helen get introduced to the rest. “It’s gonna be okay.” A man says in the TV. I look; a small, bald man with glasses are chanting to the camera: “It’s gonna be okay.” After a few moments, a zombie grabs the man from behind and the camera shuts down.