THE DEAD WALK

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Summary

THE DEAD WALK: PREFACE ​A Found Record of Edward Maxwell (Age 15–17) ​To the reader: ​What you are holding—or reading—is not a novel. It was never intended to be. It is a collection of fragments, an informal archive of a mind that was running out of time. ​These words were written by Edward Maxwell at the age of 17. He survived the first two years of the apocalypse—the school escapes, the starvation, the military blockades, and the blood-soaked parking lots. He survived the monsters outside, only to be undone by a monster inside: a terminal cancer that worked faster than any zombie could. ​This is written in the Dead Memory writing style. It is a living mind becoming a remembered ghost. ​You will notice the writing is rough. There are sudden jumps in time, coughing fits that interrupt the dialogue, and moments where Edward admits he simply "cannot further elaborate" because the memory is too heavy or his strength is too low. ​Edward wasn't trying to write a masterpiece; he was trying to leave a trace. He was "cleaning the dead" of his own past, trying to figure out if he was a hero or just another person on the same path as Ethan. ​Read this as it was intended: as a preserved echo. ​By the time you finish the last page, the narrator is already gone. But as long as you hold these memories, the people inside them—Emily, Zayn, David, and even Thomas—stay alive for sometime.

Status
Ongoing
Chapters
4
Rating
5.0 1 review
Age Rating
16+

Chapter 1


The science lecture had been going on forever, and I just wanted to go home.


Usually, I would imagine myself in a fantasy with Emily, but unlike usual, there was an eerie vibe in the town that day.


"Hey Edward, look—another one," Zayn said to me, pointing at the highway. He was referring to an ambulance.


It was the fifth one within the hour. "Focus on your notes, Zayn. You're overthinking," I said, ignoring him.


"Hey, pass me a pen, Ed," Crisal said, and I gave him the pen I was using.


On the other hand, in another school within the same city, chaos was happening.


"Oh sh-shit!" Ayla whispered as her only friend fell down the stairs and into the fire. Wet, growling sounds were approaching her. She ran but slipped.


And there he was: Thomas. He held Ayla's hand and pulled her up.


"Thanks," Ayla whispered.


"No time for that. Go down. Zara and David are waiting for me," Thomas said to Ayla. "What about you?" Ayla asked.


"I'm coming just behind you. Now move!"


Ayla and Thomas both moved out of the school along with Zara and David. "What the actual hell is all this?" Ayla asked.


"Feels like an apocalypse to me," David said. "I want to go home," Ayla said to Thomas.


"Well, the problem is there ain't no home anymore," David replied.


"We are moving towards that building near the highway. If you want, you can come," Thomas told Ayla. She nodded.


Back at my school, by the third period, there was total chaos. "What the hell is going on, Edward?" Emily asked me.


I admired her; it was the first time she had ever spoken to me. I said what anyone else would have said: "I... I don't know, Emily."


Suddenly, an idea came to Crisal. "Tiny little mind!"


"Hey Ed, let's run out of here," I said. "Why?" Zayn, completely unaware, added, "If you want to live, come with us."


I invited Emily, because why not, and she nodded yes.


We snuck out of the back fence just to see a man's intestines getting ripped out by a maniac - or a zombie, whatever he was.


I told everyone to run towards the cycle stand. We stole ourselves some bikes and moved towards the road that led home.


"Shit, Ed, the military has blocked the roads!" Shots were fired at us. "Run to the building near the highway! Emily, go!" I barked.


We moved towards the highway. "Thomas, I think some people are headed here," Ayla told Thomas.


"Well, they better not bring any trouble," Thomas said, gritting his teeth.


"We're passive! We mean no harm!" I shouted at a figure on the fifth floor. "Identify yourself!" he shouted back at us.


"We're teens just like you. Our homes have been blocked; we just need shelter," Emily said. As manipulative as Ms. Winters, it worked.


We moved into the building only to be jumped by a zombie.


"Oh f- fuck, get this thing off of me!" I shouted. Thomas hit the bastard hard, and he fell.


"You better not be a liability, Mr.?" I said, with an ego as big as me. I would have replied bitterly, but I knew what to do right then.


"Edward Maxwell," I said. "We just needed a roof. Our homes have been blocked, Mr.?" Zayn asked.


"Mr. Thomas." "Come on, move before more of them show up."


We went up. I saw three more people about the same age as me. "Ayla, show them the next watch duty," Thomas ordered.


It was a bit bitter, but we had no other choice. "I'm Edward, she is Emily. That is Zayn, and this is Crisal."


"Nice to meet you, Ms.?" I sparked a conversation with a girl sitting near the wall. "I'm Zara, that is Ayla. This right here is David."


I nodded. Night came fast, and we all wished all this would be over in a week, or most probably a month. But this was just the beginning of a whole arc.


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