The laSt survivor

Oleksandra Pasternak

A place in California called “Quiet Place” at the moment will be in that story. At first this place was called “Vibes of Party.” That was a loud place, until a bad thing happened. Next to the loud place was a laboratory. People who were working in the laboratory had a crazy love for experiments. They had a friend, he was testing everything that his friends gave him, but they didn’t need to worry about him; everything was always good. People who were working in the laboratory made a liquid that, if you drank it, you will never be sick again. But something bad happened. He tried it and fell down. People who were working in the laboratory (I will call them lab friends) were scared. In one hour, he became a zombie. He jumped on one of the lab friends and started eating him, but he didn’t die; he became a zombie too, but it’s strange—he became a zombie in three minutes, not hours. Anyways, the lab friends ran out of the laboratory with loud screams.

“Hey Katie, there is a zombie moving to our way!”

“Michael, not a funny joke . . . What the heck?!”

“See?!”

“Oh no, a siren!!”

The siren got louder and louder. People ran out of the place. Zombies were going to the neighborhood. Two girls were sitting at home and eating popcorn. They saw that zombies were getting closer and closer. They ran to the weapon shop. The girls loved Sanrio and pink colors, so they bought only pink weapons and guns.

“Hey Rosie, we have an underground place, remember?”

“Yes, of course!”

“Let us go there!”

“Sure, but let’s pack everything we had first.”

“Oh!”

They packed everything they needed and went to their base. (Just kidding, they don’t really love Sanrio and pink color. They don’t really care about colors but pink . . . ) Anyways, everything was the same, but without Sanrio and pink color. They sat in the base now and drank water.

“Uh, the siren again.”

It was the siren again. The siren was too loud. A few hours later, and zombies were already in other places. They could do everything, Kate thought, but. . . .

To be continued . . .