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All hell broke loose on a sunny Friday morning. Only a handful of people made it out of Beacon Hills High. Most weren't killed by zombies but by other students. The exits were blocked by everyone rushing to get out and both students and faculty alike were trampled. Stiles and Scott had stuck together and made it out safely along with a few of their friends. They had rushed home to gather the most important things and joined their families. Together they traveled around looking for safety.
It had been two years since the dead came back to life and now all that were left of their group were Scott, Stiles, Lydia, Allison, and Jackson. They had adapted to this new world as best as they could. None were lucky enough to be skilled when it came to guns except Stiles. Even with his knowledge, it was useless without guns and ammo. Instead, they all survived by wielding machetes and knives.
The little house they were squatting in was in dire need of many repairs. Despite that, it served well enough to keep them safe. The house was crowded and they had run out of food. The last time any of them ate was five days ago. Stiles wanted them to wait, but Scott insisted if the zombies didn't kill them, hunger would.
"Look outside, Scott. There's, like, a herd of them coming through right now and it's only dawn. You'd die out there," Stiles whispered, trying to make as little noise as possible.
"I know that, but I'll be quick and try to come back with something. We have to eat, Stiles."
He knew Scott was right, "Okay, okay. But, is everyone really okay with this?"
"Not particularly," Allison said, "but it has to be done."
"I'm with Allison," Jackson spoke from his cot where he was resting his twisted ankle.
"We need to eat. I refuse to die of starvation," Lydia piped up, "I'll go with you, Scott."
"What?! No!" Jackson sat up in his cot, "I don't want you out there."
"I don't want any of us to be out there but we must. I'm the best at taking those things out. I'll be fine," Lydia said with a small smile. Her and Scott put on thick jackets and trousers they had found in their travels that protected them from zombie bites. They weren't foolproof but it served more as a peace of mind.
They hugged and said their goodbyes, not knowing if it would be the last time they'd see each other. Scott peeked through a slit between the wooden planks of the door. There were a few zombies but nothing they'd need to worry about. They had done this countless times before and were confident in their methods. Both Lydia and Scott had become good at hunting animals since this began.
They walked half a mile into the woods, machetes in hand. Everything was eerily still; not a single living soul besides Scott and Allison were around. Going back empty handed would be a huge blow to the group's morale. They pressed on their search and found nothing. It was around 4 P.M. when they decided it was time to give up and go back to their friends. The trek back home was long and they didn't want to be outside when the sun set. That's when they would be in the most danger. Scott was the first that noticed the door to their house was wide open. Dread hit him like a bolt of lightning and he abandoned any thought of safety. He sprinted towards the house with Lydia close behind him. The sight before them was ghastly. Their friends laid on the ground, butchered like cattle.
"We're too late. We're too late!" Lydia cried.
Scott kneeled beside Allison and cradled her body, holding it close to his. Next to her laid Stiles, limbs sprawled out on the dirt flood. By the state of his hands, it seemed he had tried to fight back but was unsuccessful in protecting himself and his friends. Lydia cried at Jackson's side, squeezing his hand in hers. He still laid on the cot in the corner of the small house. He had taken his own life as he often said he would if he ever had to. "I'd rather slit my own throat then be live food for those things."
Scott heard a small gasp. Allison's eyes fluttered open and she began moving. Scott felt fear coursing through his veins. She was reanimating as a zombie. He felt tears forming in his eyes as he reached back into his belt for his knife.
"I'm so sorry I couldn't be here," he whispered and stabbed her through the eye. He laid her body down gently and moved to Stiles' side. He couldn't wait for him to reanimate, he couldn't let his best friend turn into a monster just like his girlfriend had. He pressed his forehead onto Stiles' and sighed. He did the same thing to him as he had to Allison.
"Lydia," Scott spoke, "you know what you have to do."
Lydia shook her head, "I can't. Not yet," she brought her hand to Jackson's pale face, "He didn't deserve this. None of them did."
"I know. But we can't waste time. Don't let him turn, Lydia. Don't let him turn."
She wiped her tears away, stood up and took Scott's knife from his hand, "I'm sorry. I love you," she said into his ear, barely audible. Like Scott, she closed her eyes and plunged the knife into Jackson. Scott ran towards her and caught her before she collapsed and held her while she cried.
After a while, they moved the bodies to give their friends a proper burial. Scott noticed certain things in the house were missing and that Allison, Stiles, and Jackson had their throats slit along with the zombie bites. In his state of grief, he hadn't paid attention to the smaller details. It was a painful reminder that in times like these, man was still the most vile creature and that zombies weren't the one thing that needed to be feared.