Then I heard a shout. Slowly I looked around to see who called my name. Then I saw him, the only man I had been truly afraid of and yet viewed with so much respect, my father. He had once been a special division soldier in England, but a slight leg injury caused him to leave the service, so he moved to the states where he met my mother, they settled down in a little town and he soon became sheriff. He was a massive man, standing almost seven feet tall and had the muscle build of three men. His friends called him Abrams, after the Abrams tank and that’s exactly what he looked like as time slowed down and he rushed at me. He was wearing his heavy trooper armor and carrying his Henry rifle; he was the best sharpshooter I’d ever seen. He came to a halt and stood in a defensive stance in front of me,
“Where’s your mother and Vic?” he asked as we ran for cover.
“They’re in the house barricading the doors.”
I checked how many bullets were left in my belt and reloaded my revolver.
“Son, we have to stop Reaper from tearing apart our town,” he said as he reloaded his rifle, “We may be the last thing standing between him and death for everyone.”
I looked at him and nodded, “In that case I have an idea.” I said to him with a grin. “Do we still have those incendiaries?”
“Still got a full crate back at the house, I’ll stay here and distract him while you go get them; you’re a whole hell of a lot faster than this old man.” He chuckled as he started to rain fire down on Reapers militia, while he made a mad dash back to the house.
When I finally reached the front gate I dashed for the cellar door and I ripped it open like a Texas tornado. I ran down the stairs two at a time. Exhausted by the time I hit the bottom, I hurried to the gun cabinet and opened it, grabbing my model 1887 shotgun and took three boxes of the ”Fire starter” shells. As I loaded the gun I ran back to my dad, so far it looked like my plan was going to work. Zombies aren’t afraid of anything including fire, but Blizzard was no ordinary creeper. He seemed to still have some life in his brain. Fire scared him as badly as it did live animals; since his head was covered in titanium, armor my plan was to light him on fire due to the fact that landing a head shot was next to impossible.
When my dad saw me a devilish grin over took his face “Hit him in the left flank! Reapers ammo box is right there!” so that’s where I aimed. My first couple shots hit some of the creepers standing in front of Blizzard, but my third shot hit him right on the side. It instantly was set ablaze and Blizzard went into a crazed frenzy. He started to run right through the inner fence, but he crashed through it throwing Reaper off his back. Dad and the guards raced after Blizzard not seeing that Reaper wasn’t still mounted on Blizzard. Reaper took off into town, I chased after him, but he moved at the speed of a hunting wolf and with the grace of a playful fawn. I lost sight of him, and when a horrible scream came clawing at me from my left, I quickly realized the screams emanated from my house, and then I saw what turned my blood to ice.
Reaper had my mom thrown around his shoulder like a rag doll while Vic was lying face down on the porch. I thought about shooting him but I didn’t know if mom was still alive and I wasn’t about to risk shooting her. He turned and casually faced me and with the evilest smirk on his face he let out an ear shattering howl as Blizzard raced forward towards him. With one swift movement he climbed on top of Blizzard. In a matter of seconds they were gone, along with my mother and two children I didn’t recognize I ran like the wind to were Vic lay. A feeling of gratitude came over me when I saw he wasn’t dead. He had taken a blow to the back of the head but it didn’t look too serious. Just as I was picking him up dad came running up. I frantically explained to him what happened and we agreed that we needed to regain energy and plan our next move. Then in the morning, we’d go find her. That night I couldn’t sleep, all I could see when I closed my eyes was Reaper’s terrifyingly bloody face with ice caverns for eyes. In the morning dad informed me the Rangers captured some of Reaper’s soldiers alive, which was unusual because most of them were creepers. He recruited very few living people and they never lived long enough to settle in with him. They had been convinced into revealing to us where Reapers hidden camp was located a few days hike away.

With fifteen of the best Rangers we set off to find my mom and kill Reaper once and for all. The camp was only about twelve miles from Novair, but it took three days to hike the rugged trail. When we finally reached the base of the camp, we were dumfounded to see it empty.
“It looks like he left a couple hours ago.” Muttered one of the rangers.
“Then we keep going till we find that scumbag.” My dad yelled as he trudged on down the trail. It was another two days before we saw a trace of Reaper and his militia. When we came to Motherburg. The group was in need of supplies so everyone decided to stop; as we came to the gates we were horrified. The town was ripped to shreds and fires raged everywhere.
“That hellion just doesn’t stop does he?” I said, not really expecting an answer.
We spent the rest of the day looking for survivors. When I thought we had checked everywhere, we suddenly heard a slight whimper. I ran towards the pile of rubble from where the sound echoed, I ripped up boards and sheet rock, flinging dust and body parts all over the place. It was an absolute bloody mess down there. Just as I was about to give up I found where the sound was coming from, under the rubble there was a near demolished kennel, where a group of dogs were trapped. We dug using our hands and pieces of steel for about three hours to get them out. In all, there were seven dogs, but there was one that grabbed my attention more than the rest. He was a beautiful jet black and as big as a young horse. My dad told me he was a breed of Mastiff, called an English Mastiff. The dog’s massive body was covered from head to tail in chainmail, spikes, and blades. He was a true war dog; his name tag revealed his name was Ares. The dogs came with us as we left the ruins of Motherburg. They were the only survivors. Ares and I became almost connected mentally as we hiked and we forged a lifelong bond. We spent another week chasing Reaper; town after town was laid to waste behind him. We gained a small amount of followers; our numbers were now nearing thirty. We’d lost five of our original group from an ambush in Montsville, but we came across some Boomers that were highly skilled in explosives and as well trained as our Rangers.

On the third week out, we started to go through the treacherous no man’s pass, a mountain pass nobody had gone through and returned from. We were all searching for lost loved ones and nothing was going to stand in our way, not even the mass of undead blocking the pass. We all loaded our guns and sharpened our knives and swords. At a quarter past noon we charged the creepers. Dad and I ran side by side, armed with our colts in one hand and our machetes in the other, firing left and right, cutting down anything that came in range as our arms sliced through the bones and flesh of the creepers like a knife through butter.
“Abrams!” yelled Scottsdale the leader of the Rangers, “We’ve got a visitor!” He pointed up to the top of the pass and there he stood with his coat flapping violently in the wind. Reaper. Dad fired round after round at him, but he was too far away. I ran as fast as I could up the side of the pass with dad and the Rangers close behind. We cut and gunned down anything that came at us, including feral wolves. Reaper had not only tamed a bear, but he also had an assortment of attack dogs. Ares was right by my, side tearing and slicing at anything that moved.
When our rag tag group reached the top we found Reaper and Blizzard along with a legion of undead soldiers. Time seemed to slow down when I saw my mom’s face, she was tied to a tree behind Blizzard. At once we rushed the legion, chopping and shooting at the mass of undead simpletons. I hit one creeper so hard with the butt of my shotgun his neck shattered. The Rangers and our new war dog division made quick work of the bloody wankers, as Scottsdale calls the creepers. As Reaper noticed our quick advance, he smiled and blew a whistle. The horrid screeching stopped us all dead in our tracks, for as soon as he blew it, there was a callous roar as a handful of giant creepers violently emerged out of the tree line. They were at least 10 feet tall with razor sharp claws and armor covering their bodies. We fired at them but they just kept coming. Two of the dogs ran at the largest of the giants and took it down while Scottsdale cut the beast’s head off with his lumberjack axe. We fought a bloody two hours before all of the giants fell at our feet. All the while Reaper was sitting back watching seeming to enjoy himself. When the sole living giant took its last cold, hard breath we advanced, only to see Reaper walk up to my mom and bite her arm.

Nobody fully understood why Reaper bit my mom, until we realized why he was so pale. Reaper wasn’t a living general. He was now a gate keeper to hell, living in an undead body yet he wasn’t brain dead like all the other lost souls. My dad screamed and charged forward with Apollo, his war dog. Everything was a hazy blur while I frantically raced to where my mother stood. Reaper had mounted Blizzard and was long gone before we reached her. The bite wound wasn’t too big or deep so we had a little hope she wasnt infected. Scottsdale untied her as we swept the area for threats. It seemed as if Reaper had planned this ambush which claimed seven lives. Thankfully none of the Rangers or Boomers died but one of only two medics was wounded. We set up camp at the top of the pass just as the sun was setting. Mom was in our tent while Vic cleaned her wound and fed her. Dad and I were outside discussing what to do next.
“I don’t understand how he can still function even with the infection controlling his body,” my voice broke the silence,” It’s just not right.” Dad looked as if he was lost in thought, so I waited for him to reply. Finally, after what seemed like eons he looked at me.
“Son, I want you to know something. Back before I joined the Joint Special Operations Command I served with my brother in the Marines. I never told you about Jason because I always assumed he had died during the first days of the fall. That was until today, Zech, Reaper is Jason. I don’t expect you to fully understand what I’m saying, but I’m certain it’s him. He always hated your mother because he thought she took me away from him. This is his way at getting back at her and me for leaving.” He looked at me with tears in his eyes. Before this point I had never seen my dad cry, but with the impact of what he just said to me, I broke down. At first I sobbed quietly, but by the end we were both crying like widowed wives.
“Dad, we have to get him for this, I know he’s your brother but, he took mom away from us.”
“Son, he’s not my brother anymore. That thing is a monster and we are going to make sure he won’t hurt anyone ever again.”
We sat next to mom for the rest of the night quietly sobbing. At one point my dad put his arms around me and hugged me for what seemed like an eternity. When the sun rose, my mom was gone, I quickly woke dad up.
“Dad, she’s gone! Where’d she go?!” I said frantically. We rushed out of the tent to see her standing at the edge of the pass. She turned and looked at me; her skin was pale and eyes a glowing red.
“RUN! Don’t look back! Whatever you do Zech don’t, stop!” she howled. The next sound I heard was the low growl as Apollo and Ares attacked.