Chapter 1
During my early years as a child, fear seemed to be my constant companion. It didn’t discriminate between living beings – people, animals, or insects – they all sent shivers down my spine.
Even the simplest tasks, like switching off the porch lights at night, could send my heart racing all the way to Mars and back. This anxiety was rooted in my upbringing in a small, unremarkable town that seemed to have escaped the attention of the wider world. We were tucked away in our routine lives, far from the bustling activities of the outside world. The rare visitors who graced our town were retired individuals seeking solace in what we ironically referred to as “Nature’s Abode” – essentially an elderly care home that doubled as our town’s sole attraction.
My transformation from the timid Samwell Tarly to the more resolute Jon Snow unfolded in the summer of 2023.
Life was progressing smoothly – I had recently graduated from school and was eagerly anticipating college life. Though most of my days were spent within the confines of our home, my mother would occasionally nudge me to join her on evening walks. 21 presents itself as an unconventional age, and my experience was further enhanced by residing in an uneventful town.
As I ambled through the hallway towards the drawing room one day, my gaze was captured by our family portrait. Time had taken its toll, and the portrait was a testament to the dwindling numbers of our clan. In the portrait, there was just my mother, my great-aunt, and myself. My great-aunt lived in the city in a charming country house which was bequeathed to her by my uncle, a high-ranking figure in the military. The journey through the drawing room brought me to the sight of my mother engrossed in preparing dinner for the evening. “I’ll be out for a bit,” I announced, to which she responded with a casual “Be back by 8, Kade.”
Our house, built in the 80s, might not have been remarkable to the outside world, but to me, it was a haven. The familiarity of 21 years spent in one place had fostered a deep attachment. The stone structure stood apart from its neighbors, with its two exterior doors, a relic that might have belonged to a doomsday prepper.
In our town, the roads were neatly paved, and development had been a foreign concept for years, the same layout that had graced our streets since the 80s. A modest police force of 17 served us, and a small hospital attended to our medical needs.
Negativity rarely knocked on our doors. It was in this serene backdrop that I strolled through on a warm summer evening. At 6 o’clock, the sun stubbornly clung to the sky, making sunset seem like a distant notion. The streets were sparsely populated, indicating that others were relishing the comfort of their homes.
After only traversing a few houses, a familiar voice called out – it was Rahul, a childhood friend, a year my senior, with a cascade of red hair. “Where are you headed, nerd?” he teased. “Such warm greetings,” I retorted with a smirk. “I was heading out for a smoke. Care to join?”. “We’re all going to meet our maker someday,” he mused with a grin. Together, we veered towards our customary spot, an old state park tucked away from prying eyes, our shared haven for moments of camaraderie and contemplation.
Our conversation soon shifted from my soon-to-be educational institute to a recent dark incident that had shaken the town – the brutal murder of Mr. Sharma. The details were tragic, but Rahul’s irreverent tone lightened the mood.
“Did you hear about the Sharma murder?” he began. “Sad incident – killed for money,” I replied somberly. “But his son insists it wasn’t about money. He claims his father attacked him and tried to eat him raw,” Rahul continued with a hint of incredulity. “Eat him raw!?” I exclaimed, both horrified and amused. “Well, cooking him would have taken away all the fun and adventure, right?” he chuckled. Such absurd exchanges were our way of navigating the complexities of life.
But returning to the main narrative, little did we know that our seemingly uneventful town was on the cusp of becoming the center of attention for news outlets across the nation. A nation soon to be gripped by the undead.