Zombie Apocalypse

A story written half by me, half by my good mate Bairdy. I'll post it bit by bit, 2 chapters at a time.


“We’re really sorry about the delays sir, but we’ll be landing in the next 30 minutes,”
“It’s about time!” Derek Nicholls was glad that he’d be finally going home. The flight was only meant to go for 8 hours, but it ended up being a 12 hour flight due to some sort of difficulty. The arguing couple behind him and the sweaty snoring fat guy beside him weren’t helping the time pass any faster either. He stroked his wavy dark brown hair back behind his ears, adjusted his sunglasses and tried to relax just for the last 30 minutes of the flight. He cursed at himself under his breath for the hundredth time for forgetting to bring the earphones for his mp3 player.
Derek Nicholls was a 36 year old limousine driver. He was known for his short temper and impatience, which sure was being tested by the people on the flight. He had no immediate family apart from his mother and father, and an older brother that he didn’t really consider family because he hadn’t seen him for nearly 25 years.
“Hey, buddy, I know how you feel,” an American voice called out from across the aisle. Derek sighed and rolled his eyes, but pretended he cared about what this guy was going to say. “My wife and I are just as angry as you are about this.”
The man was probably in his early to mid 40s, black and bald. His shoulders were very broad and his chest was big, he obviously kept himself very fit.
His wife was sitting beside him. She was thin and had her jet black hair tied back in a ponytail. She had striking green eyes and a very mysterious smile. Almost like she was hiding something.
“It’s bullshit, isn’t it?” Derek replied. “4 hours late. I haven’t really got a deadline or anything, but I don’t want to spend any more time on this plane than I need to.”
The man nodded. “My name’s Ajay, my wife here is Jade,” the man leant over to shake Derek’s hand.
“Mine’s Derek,” Derek introduced himself with a polite but fake smile as he shook Ajay’s hand.
Once again Derek rested his head back against the seat and shut his eyes. He tried to imagine being back home, where he lived on his own. The peace and quiet, the serenity, not having to worry about anything else but himself.
The plane took a sudden jolt. There were exclamations of “Whoa!” and “What the hell was that?” throughout the plane. The exclamations grew louder when the oxygen masks dropped from above.
“You have got to be kidding me!” Derek shouted in anger.
The air hostess came out from the cockpit. “Everyone if you could please fasten your___” The plane suddenly seemed to plummet towards the ground. Screams broke out everywhere. Derek grasped the armrests as hard as he could. He squeezed until his knuckles ached. He gritted his teeth until his jaw felt numb. He saw the ground coming closer out window. He felt as if he was going to throw up, since his stomach was now just about in his throat.
They could feel the plane start to pull back up, and just as signs of relief were coming to the passengers of the flight, the plane jolted again.
“This is it,” thought Derek. “This is where my life ends. Didn’t even get to write out my will.”
The screams combined with the sound of the plane spiralling out of control were deafening. But it was all brought to an end with an almighty crash as the plane collided with the ground.


Stephen Terrel awoke suddenly, sweating and breathing heavily as he sat up. He looked around and blinked a few times then fell back down onto his pillow. He looked at the small clock radio beside him and sighed.
“Three-thirty… I’m not getting any better obviously.” He thought to himself. He rubbed his eyes a little bit and sat up again. He rested his head in his hand for a few seconds and got up. He walked into the bathroom in his hotel room and turned the tap on. He splashed water on his face and then turned the tap off. He looked at himself in the mirror.
“I’m a mess… I need help, really…” He thought as he examined his own face in the mirror. He was a tall man, in his early 20s. He had fairly long brown hair that was really messy, and bags under his eyes people would say they could see from a mile away. He hadn’t shaved for a little while and what facial hair he had was very messy. He almost looked like a homeless man, only cleaner. He seemed to stare a lot but really he was just zoning out, into his own world which, at most times, wasn’t a good world. He wondered why he had such problems in his head since he had a good life, a good family and awesome mates. Everything for him was great, until he was sent to Iraq to help in the war which he referred to as one which he would come back from soon, without harm.
He put his coat on and left his hotel room. He was tired, hurt and very messed up. He walked down the street with his hotel on it looking at all the homeless people as he went. He thought about how meaningless their lives must have been to have ended up like they have. It almost brought him to tears when he compared them to himself. They are never happy, but surviving, which he seemed to be doing the same thing. They are terrible looking and feel like they have nothing left, same with him. When he was young depression wasn’t a problem. It took a war to reduce him to what he had become.
He found his way down many streets and past many homeless people and eventually found the building he was looking for. “Doctor Richards Psychological Health Clinic”. He tried to open the door but it was locked.
“They could at least put a ‘closed’ sign up… Lazy bastards.” Steph said out loud by accident. “But then again, it is three thirty in the fucking morning.”
“How long have you been waiting here for?” A voice said out of what seemed like nowhere.
“Just now, who are you?” Steph replied looking around to see who had talked to him.
“My name is Doctor Richards, pleased to meet you!” The man appeared into Steph’s view. He examined the man who was short and stubby. He had very short hair and his most noticeable feature, a huge scar on his cheek. Doctor Richards smiled.
“Oh, I promise I’ll get a closed sign for your sake!” Doctor Richards joked. Steph laughed a little and suddenly tuned out of the sort of conversation for a second but forced himself to wake up. Doctor Richards opened the door to the clinic and turned the foyer lights on.
“I left some stuff here yesterday. Come inside and tell me, why are you here?” He asked. Steph walked in.
“I need to see someone here, I’m really messed up at the moment.” Steph replied. “Can you book me in for an appointment as soon as you can? I’m in a pretty bad way right now.”
“Sure, in fact, come back in about two hours so I can have time to set up. I have nothing better to do this weekend. All the mates are out of town.”
“Nice… Thanks…” Steph sat in a chair in the foyer and drifted off once again.

Brilliant! The talent on display here is amazing! I have never seen a better-written start to a story in my whole life.
These Bairdy and Peterdea kids sure are good writers
Gee.. I'm not biased at all.