2186
A story of Life, loss, and Zombies

It was a dreary afternoon, pastel clouds loomed overhead, ready to open up and flood the skies with water at any moment. Grayson Walt couldn’t care less, he sat there on the park bench sipping from his flask, trying to forget. Grayson was a rather tall man, maybe just under six feet, he always wore a long, brown trenchcoat and matching hat, his beard was long, grey and shaggy, his hair the color of steel. His face looked worn from age and stress. He was the epitome of sorrow. He never spoke, I wouldn’t even know his name if not for the whispers and rumors about him, the rumors were really quite astounding. They usually went along the lines of
“Grayson Walt, hero of Armageddon. He managed to withstand a near endless assault of deadheads on his hometown of Beglium Germany. It was only him and his lover Felictity Taylor (Scheduled to be married December 29, 21 80) For four full days they protected as many citizens as they possibly could. They handed out rations to the women and guns to the men. Then Grayson, Felicity and their makeshift band of soon to be heroes painstakingly cleared every street, every house and every room for deadheads. Grayson and Felicity are truly hero’s of their generation”
Other than numerous rumors and speculation, no one really knows anything about this “Hero of the Armageddon”…That’s where I come in, my name is Marcel Oswald, I’m just your typical high school journalist who works for the local paper and is trying to get a story on the single most elusive man the world has known.
“Well” I say “Not gonna get anything done just standing here, let’s go meet this ”Man of Mystery””
I walk over to Grayson and sit in the open spot next to him. He doesn’t move, he just stares blankly at the ground, lost in his mind.
“Excuse me, Mister Walt?” I mutter.
He groans, I’m not sure if he’s acknowledging me or just groaning, so I ask again, a little louder
“Excuse me, Mister Walt…Can you hear me?” I nudge him on his shoulder “Excuse me” I say, slightly irritated “Mister wa-“
In a flurry of movement Grayson jumps up, restrains me with his right arm and pulls what looks to be a sawed-off shotgun out of his trenchcoat with his left. He points it at me, I can see clearly down the barrel of his gun, I tremble with fear, fear I’m going to die, here, in this park, by the hand of the man who saved so many lives, oh the irony…I try to yell “Please! Don’t kill me!” but can only mutter a shallow cry.
“What?!” Grayson screams “You wanted my attention so badly, you couldn’t leave me alone, you had to poke the angry dog! Do I look like I want to be triffled with such matters as idle conversation! I should shoot you, right here, right now!”
My eyes close, I bite my tongue, waiting for that split second of torture…I wait, and wait and wait. I couldn’t take it anymore so I looked up. I saw nothing. Nothing. The man who had held a gun to my head, held my life in his hands had left, left me here, alone. What could I do, go to the police? They’re preoccupied with the deadheads as it is, they wouldn’t waste their time. I thought and thought, I decided there was nothing I could do, so I buried my face in my hands and began to cry. The skies opened up and unleashed their heavy payload of water. I sat on that bench in the pouring rain for almost an hour, then I hear someone approch me, and feel the rain stop, I look up to see the dark sihllouette of some girl standing before me, with an umbrella.
“Hi” She said cheerfully “My name’s Alyssa, are you okay?”