The air was still. Not a lick of wind moved the thin, leafless branches. Crouched down among the cover of a clump of trees, I scanned the opening between the thick trunks. My rifle lay on the scorched soil beneath my feet, empty of bullets. Like the dead earth, the fresh stench of blood and decay that hung in the air brought a stale taste to my mouth.

It had been twelve long years since we humans had killed Earth with our “advances” in science and technology, and eight years since the unknown virus had decimated most of the remaining human population and turned them into the living dead.

What was left of us were caged in the depths of the mountains with waterfalls spared from the pollution of mankind. Two tall manmade structures served as gates to keep out the undead and zap them with a thousand volts of electricity if they were to come close.

Just before we retreated to our small sanctuary, we had been able to send the last of our working shuttles into space to find a new home. It was our last strand of hope. Our last chance to survive.

Every week, we would send out a sentry to the deserted broadcasting station to check for homecoming beacons. That was me. The journey to the station was typically uneventful and the gun I brought with me was hardly ever used.

Except this trip. On the way to the station, I had to use my bullets on a group of wolves skirting the perimeter. The incident had sent my nervous system into overdrive. Call me superstitious but bad things always happen in threes. That was one.

This - right in front of me - was two.

It stood still and unmoving, like a statue. It could easily be mistaken for a real deer except for the silver ethereal glow that emanated from its eyes. Created by us humans as the last product of our technology, the robotic deer was meant to alert us to nearby undead with its mere presence. I looked around cautiously, unsure where the undead were but I knew they had to be there.

I gulped down the bile that rose up my throat. My clammy hands reached for the small remote strapped to my waist. I never had to use it before, so my fingers trembled as I scanned the white buttons. Finding the button I wanted, I hesitated before slamming my thumb on it.

The deer’s head immediately snapped up and it grunted loudly, its sound echoing in the silence of the valley. My body tensed. It started soft but soon, the air was filled with guttural moans. Reacting to the sound of the undead, the deer took off in the opposite direction from me as it continued to grunt.

I waited until the noises died down completely before getting up on my feet. The sanctuary’s gates stood tall to my right. If I ran as fast as I could, I would be safe in just five minutes.

Summoning my energy, I slung the rifle around my shoulder and took off at a brisk pace. Adrenaline coursed through my veins as I pumped my legs like there was no tomorrow.

Out of nowhere, an undead with long, disheveled hair stepped into my path about five meters ahead. There was no way I could avoid it, I was going too fast. In one smooth motion, I unslung my rifle and held it by the stock.

By then, the undead woman had noticed my presence and was half-limping towards me. I avoided looking at her face - it was never good to know who it was; a friend, loved one, it didn’t matter. As she grew nearer, her arms reaching out to grab her prey, I lifted the rifle high. I brought the butt down hard onto her head and she fell to the ground with a loud thud.

Not slowing down my pace, I spared a quick glance back and was relieved to see the undead woman had not gotten back up. A small sigh left my lips. That must be the third bad thing today.

The coast clear, it was a free home run now. For the first time, a smile broke out on my face as the gates grew larger until it was right in front of me. My guard down, I didn’t notice the rustling of the bushes until it was too late.

An animalistic growl pierced the calm air and before I could react, a heavy force barrelled into my chest. Thrown to the ground, I instinctively threw up my hands to ward off the hungry undead man on top of me. All I could see was his bloodied teeth as he lunged at me. His jaws snapped like a snare and spit drooled out of his chapped lips.

If not for the two rotten stumps he had as arms, I would have been dead long ago. But his full weight was still too much for me. With all my might, I pushed against his chest. Grunting with exertion, my strength was steadily draining and my arms convulsed. Tears sprang to my eyes as I wondered whether this would be the end, the fourth bad thing that killed me.

The stench of the undead’s breath hit me hard in the face as his teeth came closer to breaking my skin. I closed my eyes and hoped to whatever God there was that even if I died, my people would somehow find the piece of paper tucked away in my pocket.

Please.. Just please-

A single shot rang out. Blood spattered on my face as the undead’s head exploded in a shower of flesh and brain matter. I opened a single eye to see the body slacken on top of me. Revolted, I scrambled away and got up shakily. I looked up to see one soldier running towards me and another kneeling down with a sniper rifle in hand.

Relief flooded through me as I staggered towards them. My lips curved up in a half-smile, half-grimace and I greeted hoarsely, “Mark.”

The middle-aged brunette male wrapped an arm around me protectively. “Come on… before there’s more undead.”

I nodded and leant on him as he rushed us towards the gates. We could hear the distant sounds of grunts but we were through and inside by the time the undead came rushing forward. The metallic clang of the gates behind us reassuring me that all was safe, I collapsed to the ground.

Mark and the other soldiers on patrol crowded around me as they tried to help me get back to my feet. My body refused to budge but despite what little energy I had left, I pulled out the piece of paper from my pocket - the one I had transcribed from the signal in the broadcast station - and held it up with trembling fingers.

I could see the looks of confusion painted on their faces as they tried to read my barely legible handwriting. A wide grin spread my lips and my voice brimmed over with emotion as I uttered the three words that we had longed to hear for so long.

“They’re coming back…”

And for the first time, I saw something spark in their eyes.

Hope.