Whatever god invented these ‘keys’ really has a sense of humor. I mean, really. Of course, of EVERYONE, he gives this one to me. I mean, I’m not complaining, I love it! But still, seriously? Of course they give the gay dude ‘Color’.
I live in London, and I am currently sitting on my porch drinking tea and contemplating life. I’m wearing a white long sleeve shirt and skinny jeans. I have short, curly brown hair and freckles dotting his whole body. And, according to my boyfriend, the prettiest hazel eyes in the world.
Yeah, I still haven’t told Alex about this whole ‘key’ thing. Alex Hodges, my boyfriend that I’ve been dating for almost year. If I’m going to be heading to New York to save the world soon, I better tell him. Maybe I’ll call him after my tea.
I take another sip when I hear screaming below me. Confused, I look down and see something that makes me feel like I’m in a horror movie.
Unless they’re in costume, there are real life zombie down below, terrorizing the town.
What the heck? I thought we were supposed to save humanity from itself, not a bunch of zombies!
Already past the point where I question odd things that happen, I head inside. “Mom! Dad! There’s zombies outside!” he shouts casually, as if this is something that happens everyday.
“That’s nice, dear,” my mom replies from the kitchen.
“No, seriously mom. There are zombies outside! We need to fortify!”
She rolls her eyes. “John, I’m not in the mood for games,” she replies, aggravated.
“Why don’t you look outside then?” I challenge. She sighs and walks onto the porch. She’s back in ten seconds having already bolted the doors closed.
“Okay, you’re right. How are you going to save the world now?”
“Mom, you say it so dramatically. I’ll just get lots of supplies and head on out there. I’m sure there’s gonna be planes that still work.” Before she can protest, I go into my room and begins to prepare.
I slip on a black, long sleeve turtle neck and put on a pair of hiking boots. My jeans should be sturdy enough for now. I grab a few more shirts and some pants before heading into the bathroom. I grab my comb, some soap, deodorant, and bug spray. I then head into the pantry and grab waters and lots of canned and dried food.
“Mom, where does dad keep the guns?” I shout, shoving a first aid kit into my hiking backpack.
“Um, in his room I’m pretty sure. But my son is not handling a gun!”
“Would you rather have me turn into a zombie and then all of humanity is doomed?” I shout back. She doesn’t respond. I head into dad’s room and punch in the code for the safe.
Don’t ask me how I know it.
I grab a double barrel shotgun, a rifle, and tons of amo. I then put on his bullet proof vest before grabbing a wooden bat and some nails. I find the hammer and nail them into the bat, which is a LOT harder than they make it look in movies.
The inventor of these ‘keys’ has a real sense of humor. Of everything, he gave me fire. FIRE! He gave me, the fisherman’s son, who’s lived by the ocean my whole life, fire. Not water; fire. Don’t get me wrong, it’s a cool power! But I could have at least gotten water.
I live in Norway, and my father is a fisherman. I’ve lived here my whole life. I have sandy blonde hair and light blue eyes. I’m wearing a black tank top and shorts, which show off the muscles I’ve gained over the years. I’m preparing one of my father’s boats for the journey to New York City.
“Okay, so we’ve got food, water, weapons, tools, first aid kits, passports, clothes, and an attitude. Anything else?” Myles asks. He’s my seventeen year old brother, and we’re as tight as a Palomar Knot.
“Not that I can think of. But why do we need weapons?” I ask for the hundredth time.
“For the last time, Hugo, America is a strange place. Besides, what if a Sharknado happens?” he asks with a smile.
“Oh my gosh, Myles, I told you to never bring up that stupid movie ever again!”
He laughs. “Come on, let’s go say goodbye to dad.” We climb off the boat and head to our house. We say our goodbyes and are about to head out when we see something odd on the shoreline.
“Is it just me,” I ask, “Or are those zombies?”
Sure enough, there’s a pack of zombies. “I thought this was real life, not zombie apocalypse movie!” he shouts.
“Dude, we found out that I have powers. Are you really surprised that there are zombies? Now come on, we better go before they catch up.”
Air. They gave me the Key of Air. But why? Air is for those that are calm, collected. I’m a bundle of rage that just got fed a Red Bull. Not literally, but you get the idea.
And I’m going to miss Brazil. I got to go to stupid New York City just to fulfil a stupid prophecy? Please. I’m going to spend at least another week here before I make my way to America and ‘save the world’.
I glance behind me and see that he’s still following me. This creep that just won’t leave me alone. I’ve tried to lose him, but he just keeps following me. I sigh. I get this here and there. It’s not everyday you see a gorgeous redhead.
But this redhead’s got a temper. I pull out the pepper spray and turn a corner. But instead of continuing to walk, I stop and wait for the stalker. As soon as he turns the corner, I spray him in the face.
“AH!” he shouts, holding his eyes.
“That’s what you get for following me, creep!” I shouts, kicking him. He falls to the ground, still holding his eyes. And… he’s holding a bat? Odd.I’m able to get better look at him, and I see that he has light brown hair. He looks, kinda, cute.
“I’m sorry! I just needed to tell you something!” he replies, rubbing his eyes.
I sigh. “What?”
“The zombie apocalypse has started, and you should get to shelter, or at least find some weapons. Other than your pepperspray, of course,” he replies without a kind of sarcasm or joking in his tone.
I laugh. “Yeah, right!”
He opens his eyes, and I see that they’re a stunning blue. At least, they look stunning when the rest of his eye is red. He blinks a few times and gets to his feet. In a low voice he says, “Look behind you.”
Hesitant, I look behind me. In all its horror is a bloody zombie with pale skin, a missing eye, and matted hair.
I let out a horrifying shriek as he swings the bat at the zombie head. The head snaps, and it falls to the floor, dead. “WHAT THE HECK WAS THAT!?!?” I shout.
“I told you there were zombies. Now, do you need help or not?” he asks, beginning to get annoyed.
I sigh. “Okay. Maybe I will need help. I’m Sofie, by the way. You?”
He holds out his hand. “The name’s Simon.”
Water. I get water. Except every time I use my power it automatically turns to ice, because I live in Alaska. And now I have to head to New York City?
I shiver slightly. It’s snowing lightly, and little flecks are stuck in my jet black hair. I squint in the bright morning light, my grey eyes seeming to be more sensitive than usual. I walk around the house, trying to find the commotion that awoke me this morning. I make sure the rifle is loaded, because you never know when a bear or a wolf might attack you.
The first thing I see is the blood. Maybe a squirrel got killed? I keep walking to find that is not at all the case.
It’s a zombie, standing over my father’s body. It takes me a moment to process everything, but once I do, I scream. The zombie’s face twists into a grin and it lunges for me.
Three shots and it’s dead.
I head back inside, shaken. Then realization strikes me. I run to my little sister’s room, praying that she’s okay.
The gunshots woke her up, and she’s crying. She’s only two years old.
“Shh, it’s okay Cora, it’s okay,” I murmur, picking her up.
“Dada! Where dada?” she asks.
I sigh, tears in my eyes. “Dada’s not going to be back for a while.”
I love the cool Caribbean air. I take a deep breath, enjoying life and the fact that I will save the world. I am blessed with the power of Earth, and I am going to fulfil my duty and save everyone.
The breeze blows my blonde hair, and my sunglasses protect my green eyes. It is a wonderful day to be alive.
If you ignore the fact that the zombie apocalypse has started.
And I was supposed to fly to New York today! But they’ve canceled all flights and boats, so everyone is stuck on this island. How on earth did this even start? We’re supposed to save the world from humanity, not ZOMBIES!
I sigh and head back inside, locking the doors. I adjust my flower crown and head into the living room, where my mother is meditating. I sit down next to her and begin to meditate as well, while also praying that I’ll be able to get off this island and restore humanity.
“Take that you filthy zombies!” I shout, swinging my spiked bat. “And that!” I admire the corpses for a moment before heading back inside. The streets of Paris are flooded right now, either with people trying to escape or zombies trying to attack. Sometimes, the knock on the door is a zombie, other times it’s someone seeking refuge. Either way, you never let them in.
I double and triple check that the door is locked before looking out the window of my fifth story apartment. All those stupid people out there, trying to escape, when in reality they’ll just get turned into zombies.
Love. They gave me love. And yet I’ve never fallen in love with someone, not even once. I live in Paris, the ‘city of love’, but everyone here is not my type. Honestly, why? It doesn’t make any sense. It’s a bit ironic, too.
Hopefully, things will die down soon so that I can find my way to New York. The world could really use some saving right now.
“Margarita!” one of my older sisters calls.
“I told you not to call me that!” I shout.
“Sorry, Peggy,” Elizabeth replies. “But what did you do with my makeup?”
“I threw it out. You won’t need makeup during a zombie apocalypse.”
“MARGARITA JANE RENSSELAER YOU ARE DEAD SHE SHOUTS!” she comes stomping out of her room but stops when she sees the bloody spiked bat over my shoulder. I raise my eyebrows, and she backs away.
I look down at my outfit and sigh. My black crop top and black shorts are covered with blood. At least my boots are okay.
I head into my room and change into a similar outfit. I then continue to pack my bag.
“Peggy, how much water do you think we’ll need?” my other sister, Angie, asks.
I sigh. I’m the youngest, and yet I know the most survival skills. “As much as we can carry! But save room for food! And bring sturdy clothes, okay?”
“But what if we meet a cute boy?” Elizabeth asks.
“Then he’ll just have to deal with it,” I shout back. I grab a pony holder and tie up my wavy brown hair. My dull blue eyes seem bluer than normal today, and I wonder if that’s because how much bloodshed I’ve witnessed in the past two hours.
All flights and boats are cancelled. It’s like the government is trying to keep us penned in like animals. How are we supposed to get to New York now?