He had been nine when it had happened; the day that changed his life forever, the day his parents died and everyone he loved were either turned or returned to the earth. It was the day the world stopped. Now a decade later, so much had changed. Many buildings had fallen, scenery had adapted to the loss of human life, making flora grow and tangle as it pleased. Highways were overrun with it and now resembled unkempt lawns, and those cars that stood still waiting for their owners year after year, became nothing but homes to small animals, who were more than content to reclaim their land.
Lucas hardly ever went very far from his quarter – he called it that because the almost 30 acres had everything he needed – and seldom did he see anyone else, infected or not, cross his path. This made him feel it was wise to stay put. Maybe he would become an old man here and die just as so many had before him. He did not entertain thoughts of finding a woman to love or raising children of his own, as this life was not something he would wish on any other being. In reality, the words of his parents were all that kept him from blowing his head off with the semi-automatic shotgun they had given as a gift years before . . .