It was foggy, damp, and quiet. My friends and I were still recovering from the start of the outbreak. We were heading to the outskirts of the land, thinking we would be safe. 

We had no other choice but to set up camp for a while in order to rest and get our strength back. I would try to rest but every time I close my eyes I would see my friend being devoured by those monsters. He had no chance. There was nothing we could do but run. Fighting back wasn’t an option—as some of us learned. 

Enough time had passed where some in the group were getting nervous that we would be spotted. Others thought the safest thing to do is stay where we were. The debate went on for far too long. We were going to draw too much attention to ourselves if the matter wasn’t resolved.  

When we knew we couldn’t agree, we split up. half of the group including me left the camp to find a new area to stay. Turns out I made the right choice. As we were almost to a new spot, we saw the others at the camp get attacked by a horde of the infected. Goosebumps coupled with a sick feeling as we were grasping the fact that it could have been us.

If you don’t adapt you die. 

We knew once the other survivors were all hunted down we would be next. 

we were running for our lives, adrenaline pumping and legs wearing down. I looked around me to see that I was on my own and as the clutter of footsteps behind me were just about to reach me—the whistle blew and it all stopped. 

I was flooded with joy and relief. I walked up to the big front doors, as I brag to all my peers.  Time to go to social studies.