I have recently finished a story that transpires around the beginning of a zombie apocalypse. I would be grateful for any kind of help.
I still see those things in my sleep. Even though it’s been many months since I last saw them, you just can’t stop yourself from visualizing one standing right above your bed when you close your eyes. But it just gets so much worse when these things tear away friends and family from their bodies, instead of having to put a stranger out of their misery. Alright, that was probably too much info to take in so let's start from the beginning. My name is Brad, I'm a Police Sergeant. I won’t get into specifics about my personal life too much because that’s not what all of this is about, I'm here to talk to you about the disease that wiped out or, more like changed, everyone in my hometown.
It was a late chilly August evening, aside from myself there was Carter, Jack, and Logan. For some quick background info, Me and Carter had joined the police force as friends, but we had both met Jack and Logan at the job itself. Now that our vacation was coming to an end, we had decided to meet up at a campsite to experience the privilege of breathing the crisp nature air we rarely had time to cherish. We were all sitting on logs, covered in a thick blanket of warmth emanating from the bright campfire raging in front of us. After a while of talking about our lives and upcoming events, we sat in silence, say for the branches Jack was picking at in the fire, with his shotgun leaning on a small rock behind him. Since we work as law enforcers, we were given permission to own a firearm license and use it when we thought necessary. Wild animals or drunks occasionally slip by our woods at night so the double barrel was the only real thing ensuring our safety. It might sound a bit strange but we live in a part of town that doesn’t really mind all that.
As I look back to the woods, recent memories begin to creep into the front of my mind as I fall into deep thought, I knew that it would be best if I just embraced them and got it over with, but I still wasn’t ready to let them go, let alone face them. I try to clear my mind by attempting to rekindle the conversation as I gaze up to the stars beginning to light the reddish sky.
“Nice night today eh?” I gesture upwards with my eyes as everybody else glances up to the darkening sky.
“Yeah” replied Logan.
“Haven’t seen so many stars in a while” added Jack.
After that silence seemed to regain its composure, and I slowly sank back deep into my mind. Though I never showed anything on the outside, I would occasionally feel my locked up thoughts desperately trying to escape my lips. But I didn’t want to worry anyone, so, for now, it was easy enough to brush it off as the aftermath of a dismal incident. It’ll pass I often told myself.
As I looked up from the grass I locked eyes with Carter sitting right across my log. Through all the years together, Carter had learned to read me, even when I put on my most expressionless face.
“You ok Brad?” he asks.
“Yeah, I’m fine” I quickly respond as I break eye contact and look away. After a few more seconds of studying me, he sighs.
“Cut the bull, what’s bothering you?” He questions, clearly not caring about the fact that he had just caught everybody else's attention.
“I’m fine! Just thinking about that book I'm writing” I retort.
“Your Crime Novel? Come on, you don’t just pull that out of nowhere” continues Carter.
“And besides, you never liked dealing with outlaws, why remember all that?” he says.
“Just” I stop. “Wanted to tell others what shit they're getting themselves into if they decide to sign up, preparing them” I unenthusiastically blurt out.
And with that Carter fell quiet weighing his options on what to say next. Tired of the whole ordeal, I blatantly kick some nearby dirt as I look to the sun beginning to touch the horizon.
“It’s you gf isn’t it”
I jolt up to see that Logan has piped into the conversation.
“You’re in the blues, we all go through it, just pick yourself up and- there are plenty of fish in the sea!” he announces as he lets out a quick chuckle.
“Yeah, me and…” I start.
I’m about to have my emotions all leave my mouth at once when I hear a big piece of wood fall and I look at the dying fire. I shouldn’t tell them, not yet.
“We need to spark up the fire again, I'll go get us some firewood.”
I hastily grab the bag we use for this job and hurriedly leave my group mates, most of whom have gone back to doing their own thing, but as Carter puts the last of the remaining twigs into the fire he looks at me with suspicion until I’m completely out of his sight. As I walk through the bushes into a more wooded area I begin to feel irked. Who are they to judge what I do with my life, Carter always questioning everything. I spot a half snapped tree surrounded by thick branches. Jackpot. The frustration on my face quickly dissipates as I collect the cool but dry timber. That'll last us the entire night if not more!. With little light to guide me, I collect as much wood as the bag could hold before a repulsive stench hits my nose.
Out of pure disgust, I cough a couple of times before putting a hand up to my nose. I know it sounds CliChe but at that moment, I felt expired blood and the insides of a frog intensified by 200% all around me. I was about to leave when I heard a distorted growling noise. I looked deeper into the woods and only saw darkness as the sun’s rays no longer reached this part of the forest. After a few more seconds of not moving an inch, I heard slow, seemingly distant footsteps. It was barely noticeable, but eventually, the smell got stronger and the growl became more aggressive as the footsteps got louder and louder. It was only when my eyes started to water from the lack of blinking mixed with the rotten stench and the horrific sound mere yards from me, that I bolted back in the direction of the camp. As I got closer to my destination, I began to hear faint noises of Jack’s usual bragging about a girl and a bar and laughs coming from Logan and Carter. However, my sudden burst of hope quickly diminished, as I felt more isolated by the second as the footsteps behind me had now clearly turned into a run. Eventually, I saw the tiny fire barely illuminating 3 figures past the familiar bushes. I charged through all the sharp tree branches hanging in front of me, scraping my face, not daring to look back. Finally, I crashed through the bushes and felt my shoulder impact the rough ground below me.
Once my breaths had filled my lungs with an adequate amount of oxygen, I looked up to see that my friends were all gaping at me with a surprised and puzzled look. They all held a bottle of Heineken, which explained why their laughs had suddenly ceased when I plopped down right in front of them. I no longer heard the footsteps, but the relief of that did not compare to the terrified, dreaded feeling that screamed at me. I glared at the double-barrel shotgun, ready to jump on it when Carter put a hand on my shoulder, he was the only person that looked relaxed in our group. But when I looked into his eyes, I only saw curiosity mixed in with concern.
“Let’s get you up bud,” he says as he offers his hand. I clasp it and get up on my legs.
“Alright, what’s wrong?”
My explanations seem to come out in a jumble of words according to Carter’s face, but out of all of it, at least he understood that something was wrong and we were in danger. Though hesitant, everyone caved in after a while of convincing. We had gone hunting yesterday, so our remaining ammo for the shotgun was low anyway. On the way back to the cabin, I managed to repeat everything I said in a more calm demeanor, but in the end, everyone was either looking at me like I had just uncovered a terrible truth, or that I needed serious medical attention. I’ve been told that lying isn’t my strong suit though, which is probably the reason why they didn’t give me up to a mental hospital then and there.
“So, you didn’t actually see anyone?” Jack asked curiously. I nodded as he scratched his stubble beard. “It’s your imagination, you’ve just been tense the past few weeks; it's just an instinct overreaction, get some sleep and you’ll wake up as fresh as a daisy”
When we got back to the cabin we all felt drowsy, dumping our clothes in the living room and heading off to our own small rooms to hit the hay. I vaguely remember wishing everyone a good night within my yawns, I remember hitting my pillow out of exhaustion, and I remember closing my eyes with thinking everything would be ok tomorrow. My optimism wouldn’t last.
I woke up in a sweat, hearing loud voices downstairs. I flung on a t-shirt and some jeans before running out of my door and feverishly stumbling down the stairs. As I was going down I heard “What the hell is that!” and “Get the shotgun!” I wasn’t surprised to find everyone was already down there aside from Jack arguing about what to do next.
“What's going on?!” I shout. Logan turns to me wide-eyed and explains the situation.
“I woke up in the middle of the night to get some water from the kitchen so I come down here, look out of the window and see that!” He points to someone standing right outside the backyard window and I feel a chill run down my spine.
As the commotion around me progresses, I continue peering at the person, or at least someone that looks like a person on the other side of the window. He had pale skin and brown hair that was beginning to fall off with a black liquid trickling down his mouth. In a sick way, it reminded me of saliva oozing out of a baby’s mouth. And then there were the eyes, the white bloodshot eyes. But that’s not what chilled me to the bone, what truly stopped this thing from being called a human, were the exotically malicious growls it was making. The same growls I heard in the woods, except now they were much, much closer. I look back to my companions to see Jack had joined us and had his hand on the backyard door.
“I’m gonna put a hole in that son of a bitch! Who the hell does he think he is barging in the middle of the night, waking everyone up, and not even giving a damn!” he furiously shouts.
“Jack, look! You don’t know what that thing is! Just calm down and let's all figure this out!” I shouted back, but the door is already open and it’s inside, I hear a sharp explosion and then a scream before it's on Jack.
It all seemed to happen so fast. Logan was frozen in place, Carter was trying to pull the thing off, while Jack was desperately screaming for us to get it off him. I spot the double-barrel lying beside the struggle and know I only have one shot. I promptly grab the shotgun, click off the safety, pull back the fore-end, concentrate and aim just as Carter shoves the thing to the wall. My finger pulls back the trigger and the double-barrel recoils just as it’s getting up. The cartridge collides with its shoulder and a squirt of blood leaves its upper chest as it swiftly falls backward, and collapses on the wooden tiles. Logan and Carter run to help Jack while I take off the two remaining shells from the shotgun’s sling and reload after inserting them into the loading port. I’m not risking an empty gun if more of those things stop by. I run over to check on Jack who’s squirming in pain.
“Are you all right?” I worriedly ask him.
“Yeah, just a flesh wound, but that little fu**er actually bit me right here” he wheezes for air as he points to his neck where the things teeth marks revealed to have made a wide gash filled with blood and the black liquid that have begun to flood his clothes.
“What was the problem with that-” Logan’s voice is cut off by those damn growls.
I slowly turn around to see the impossible. It had gotten back up, it’s shoulder was limp and the force of my shot had caused its skin and bone to be destroyed which instead, now showed a weak shower of blood dribbling down its ribs, and I swear I thought I saw a part of its lungs as well. And it was still standing, It took me a few moments to notice all this and when I did, I saw the thing was now advancing forward, glaring into my soul with such hatred, that I felt it would search every fiery corner in hell until It found and killed me. I stumbled with my shotgun while the others urgently shouted at me to shoot it. By the time it’s pointed at the thing it’s only a few feet away. In a mix of fear and confusion, I fire my last two shells at its head and torso and feel the double barrel’s rear smash against my chest as a bright yellow light flashes from its muzzle. Over the sound of my ears ringing I hear a thud and look up to see the thing laying on the ground… hopefully, for good this time. I drop the shotgun and run to check the corpse when I notice Jack’s wheezes had stopped and now turned into slow forced breaths. My pace quickens to a jog as I turn to Jack’s direction and shock overtakes me when I see his skin had become pale like the thing’s and he was now periodically coughing up blood.
“Carter gets him an ambulance, me and Logan will-” I don't get to finish my sentence as Jack begins coughing again, but this time instead of blood, he hacks up a few drops of a black substance that land on my shirt. Usually, I’d act very differently if this happened, but at that moment, the fear for my friend greatly overpowered my spark of disgust. All my attention is on Jack as he begins to talk with a raspy voice.
“It’s too late, It’s taking over, I can’t control...it ...anymore” And with that, his muscles relax and he stops breathing. Carter pulls his head towards his neck to check his pulse and then soundlessly gets back up with his head pointed downwards. Jack was dead. We all stand in silence for a few moments before Logan speaks up.
“It had to be that thing right? The black goo it gave him, was it poisonous or something?” Then I asked the question I still regret to this day.
“What did he mean by it was taking over him?” Carter still looking at the floor hesitantly answers.
“Maybe the substance infected his blood, which caused the primary organs to shut down, maybe he thought he was losing control of them while they actually just stopped operating.” He says this to himself more than us.
“So death was taking over him?” Logan asks.
“I don't know” Carter bleakly says as he pushes his hand into his face.
Then the whole situation really sinks in. Jack was gone, we hadn't saved him in time. If I had warned him earlier, and gone out and killed that disgrace of a human being then Jack would have survived. It’s all my fault, I was the one with the gun. We’re all choking back tears now. It’s been a while since I had someone close pass away. It’s so depressing to re-enter that phase where you remember all those great times you were with them, and then slowly be swallowed up by the painful realization that you would never experience any of that ever again. But there was something else that bothered me. Jack was around my height, but he was no small guy, 6’2 in fact. To see him slip away in a matter of minutes, seconds after a bite was in some ways more shocking than sad. I look at the group and see Logan pacing around the room.
“What are we going to tell the guys at the station, his family, they’re all gonna think we did it” he inquires.
And In all honesty, Logan is a pretty chill guy and to see him this nervous didn’t help our situation. Carter opens his mouth to say something when I hear a disturbing moaning sound. We instantly turn our backs to confront the noise, and then we see where it’s coming from. No, No, he's not that thing, he’s not that humanoid! Jack or the creature that had stripped his soul from his body was now standing with its back towards us, observing the surroundings in front of it. Somehow me and Carter knew it wasn’t our Jack, but Logan thought differently.
“It’s a miracle, he’s alive!” he shouts in joy as he runs towards the humanoid for a hug, hands outstretched.
We grab Logan and tell him that it’s not the real Jack but he retorts by saying it is and he’s alive. With surprising force, he violently pushes us off and runs towards the dead Jack. Just as he’s about to reach the thing, it turns around and we see white eyes where it’s pupils once were, only red veins remain like rivers on a map. His moans had gotten more aggressive now, similar to growls, and when he opened his mouth, the same black goo was visible bubbling deep in his throat. Logan began to back off but the creature snaps it’s head back and lunges right at him. It crashes into his shoulder and knocks him to the ground, all the while Logan was switching between swearing the most he ever had in his life and pushing the creature’s chin from his shoulder. We ran to help him but just as we were almost there, the thing finally managed to get its teeth on his skin and sank them deep into his chest.
“I’m bit, you can’t save me, get out of here, get help! He desperately implored.
We both stared at the scene before us, deciding what to do next before looking at each other and dashing to the decrepit BMW in the front yard. On the run back I almost tripped when my gaze lingered too long on the slimy intestines spilled out on the dead thing’s stomach that now had it’s shattered skull turned into a fountain of red. The combination of that and the echoes of Logan’s screams slicing the air didn’t help my coordination. Once I was finally outside, I spotted Carter running towards the car whom I followed, having the cool fresh air brush against my quiff hair ever so slightly. I jumped into the front passenger seat of our vehicle and slammed the car door shut just as Carter flared up the engine and turned on the headlights. We sped off into the night, attempting to comprehend everything that had happened. Even though new questions popped up every minute there were a few that stuck out. How did Jack die from a bite? How did he get back up? Will Logan share the same fate? As my sea of questions rose I began to feel a headache coming along as well as a tingling fatigue. Just as I was about to pass out, Carter startled me awake.
“So where exactly are we going?” he says in an obnoxious manner as he taps his fingers on the wheel.
“I got no idea” I plainly responded. I happened to glance downwards as I said this and I saw the same few drops of black goo Jack had spit on me right after he was bitten.
“Hey Carter, I’ve still got that black shit on me by the way” I nervously tell him. He glances at my t-shirt and then back at the road before he responds.
“Just don’t touch it, you can change it when we arrive at my house”
“Problem is, it’s far away,” I grumbled in annoyance. When I really thought about it, I realized all our houses were far away, in fact, the only standing structure I knew around this area was the...Bingo!
“Carter we're going to the station, out here it’s only like a 5-10 minute drive.”
“You sure Brad?” he questions. “You think the chief’s still awake by now? And besides, he’ll probably think we're insane.”
“Relax, look at the Chief’s never doubted me, and who knows how bad this thing is if it’s... infectious, he must have gotten reports of this, and if not, well tell him we're just tired and walk out the doors and figure everything out in the morning, plus I don’t know how long I can be in safety with this shirt on. Carter gives me a suspicious, almost unsatisfied look before his face relaxes.
“Then let’s go!” he says nonchalantly. And with that, we make a left turn to drive out of the woods and to the station.
When we arrived, there weren’t many lights rebelling against the early morning. We got out of our BMW and locked the doors. As we got closer to the foggy glass doors we heard chattering from inside. We reach the doors and pull them open. Inside was the Chief standing with his thick black mustache and the few strings of hair that remained plastered on his head. Beside his hand holding his daily cup of joe’s stood one of my coworkers that looked to be on duty. His surprise quickly turns into a heartwarming smile.
“Brad, Carter! What are you doing out here? Shouldn’t you be resting under some warm covers while you have the time? He gives out a jolly laugh as he walks over to us and gives us two nice pats on the back. “What can I do for you?” he asks.
“Sorry for barging in like this Chief Noah, but we have something important we need to tell you, maybe you can fill us in on this?” We explain a bit of what happened, leaving out the most unbelievable parts. When we finish, his face shows nothing but curiosity, however, his eyes are undoubtedly filled with panic. A couple of seconds pass in silence before he speaks again.
“Alright boys, I’ll make sure this is dealt with,” he states. “But you two need some rest, and with the bags under your eyes you’re in no condition to drive.” The drowsy feeling I had before, hits me with severe force and I realize I am in bad shape to drive, I spare a glance at Carter and saw that he was no different than me, maybe worse.
“So here’s what we’ll do.” The Chief continues. “We’re gonna get you two a place to sleep for the night” he peers at my BMW through the window. “And when you wake up fresh in the morning, you’ll safely drive back home.” he finishes.
I muster up a weak smile at the Chief as he sends someone over to escort us to our rooms.
“Hey, you have something on your shirt there” our escort notifies me as we reach my room.
“Oh yeah, got some dirt on it, isn’t coming off, do you have a shirt I can borrow here?” I lie.
“Uh, yeah sure, should I throw your current shirt in the wash-”
“Yeah, thanks a lot” I cut him off not wanting him to ask any questions.
He leaves and comes back a minute later with a fresh shirt from the dryer, I snatch it, walk into my room and change my shirt. Once that’s done I come out, thank him again and walk into my room for the night. After that, I can’t remember what I did. But the memory of Chief whispering a code blue into his radio accompanied by a command to send two units over to our cabin’s location just before he was out of earshot lingered in my mind long after I fell into a deep sleep.
When I awoke from my slumber the sun’s rays were already flashing through the top of my window. I look at the clock, it shows 12:27 a.m. Usually, I would jump up if I woke up at this time but again, recalling previous events, I didn’t care what time I woke up for now. I look down at my shirt to be sure that the black spot is no longer there when I realize that I hadn’t changed my clothes last night. After a few quick stretches I open my door and walk to the station’s living room where I see Carter and a few other officers lounging on the chairs and sofa with their cups of coffee. Not in the mood for a cup, I walk down to Carter and grab a donut on the way.
“So where’s the big guy,” I ask Carter.
“My guess is that he’s out cold, must’ve been up all night” Carter answers taking a sip of his coffee.
I take a bite of my donut as I take a seat next to Carter. I’m about to put my head down on the sofa when our escort from last night comes up to us.
“Good morning, you guys sleep well?” he asks.
“Yeah, we had a good rest” I respond.
“So we finished washing your shirt, and most of its come off but there’s still a little bit left right here.” he points to a dark spot that remains on my clean white shirt. Damn it.
“Oh alright, thanks again” I reply carefully taking the shirt from his hands without touching the black spot. Our escort smiles and wishes us a wonderful day before he leaves.
“I’m kind of getting tired of having a shirt be one of my main problems,” I tell Carter.
“Tough luck” he guesses.
“Come on, I’m starting to get a bit homesick after all of this”
I chomp down the last bits of my donut while Carter gulps down the remainder of his drink. After we're done we get up and walk outside. I throw my dirty shirt in the nearest trash can, glad to get rid of it and embrace the warm soothing air. I get into the BMW and slowly lean on the slightly burning driver’s seat. The air inside my car was humid, which hinted the sun was already starting to bake it. I hastily turn on the air conditioner before the insides of my car become a blazing banya. I turn the key for the engine and press on the gas while informing Carter that I was going to drop him off at his house first.
We didn’t talk much on the drive back, and while that might seem a bit odd for us since we’re usually pretty energetic when it comes to conversations, what’s even more strange is that the frequent traffic we often bump into is nowhere in sight. Sure there were cars that occasionally followed or zoomed by us, but not enough to cause a real big traffic jam, even more, there seemed to be an increased amount of police everywhere as well. We didn’t pay too much mind to this however and we eventually reached Carter’s house where he jumped off and promised to give me a call later on.
As soon as he entered his house I turned back around into the direction of the cabin. To this day I still think that I was better off not going but at the time I felt I needed to know the truth. I knew Carter would disagree which is why I was going alone, I needed to know what really happened to Jack and Logan. The ride was shorter than I expected, though that made sense since we usually had a numerous amount of stalls on the way there. But now that nothing could distract me, I determinedly made my way to the old house. When I arrived it was well past brunch, I parked my car a good distance from the lodge not wanting to attract attention. As I expected, when the entire part of the front of the house was visible I noticed a cop car standing right in front of the cabin where I could barely make out a figure through the half-cracked open window. I quickly hid behind some trees, if any of my co-workers recognized me there would surely be questions on why I was here during my vacation right after I reported an attack here just a day ago.
I waited for a few minutes, hoping for some miracle that would make whoever was there leave and not getting any. I was just about to head back when I heard a loud voice coming from inside the car, I looked back and saw the person inside now held a small black object. His radio. He looked distraught and a few seconds later he put down the radio and flared his cruiser while simultaneously turning on his sirens and driving right past my hiding spot as I ducked beneath some bushes. When the coast was clear and I couldn’t hear the sound of his screeching tires anymore I made a run for the cabin. I got to the door and tried to open it but it was locked or barricaded from the inside. Should’ve come earlier.
Then I remembered the backyard, the wooden fence isn’t that tall and I could probably climb over it. Before doing so, I listened for any noise, it didn’t seem like there was any and they wouldn’t have time to set up cameras in there. At this point, I was too dogged to stop myself so I brazenly grabbed the top of the fence and pulled myself over. I landed on the grass and turned the corner to the grilling area where the backdoor was and I was taken aback. I knew the backyard would be a bit messy from our struggle, but the new scene was unsettling. More furniture was tossed over and it now looked like somebody had spilled a full bucket of black goo instead of the few drops we saw last night. The same repulsive smell I felt in the woods and on my shirt had also returned. Police had quite a time.
Yet something told me that I needed to continue onwards and find out what happened last night, perhaps and instinct. I followed the scent as it got stronger, the only thing that I could do to stop myself from vomiting was breathing through my mouth but even then I still felt it’s ominous presence. And then at the very edge of the backyard, I saw a white bag lying on the orange leaves with what looked to be a shovel situated on the fence. As I got closer I realized that what I was looking at was a body bag. On closer examination, I noticed a small part of the bag on the top was unfolded. At the angle I was at, I couldn’t see inside it but a couple of steps forward would. After taking a deep breath, I leaned my head sideways and immediately saw that the corpse inside was filled with bullet holes and the black goo like in all the other infected. And then I recognized the person as the crippled, rotting body of Logan.
‘I’ve had enough of this!’ I thought as I sprinted in the direction of the BMW. I jumped over the fence and stopped in my tracks. In front of me stood a policeman with a fresh cut who I assumed was trying to grow a beard. I braced for the incoming questions but then realized the man standing in front of me was Jerald. Me and him weren’t really close, but since we both work at the station with the others, I could say we were acquaintances.
“Brad?” He asked as he took off his glasses to inspect me. “Aren’t you still on break, why are you here?”
“It’s a long story, did you get assigned here?”
“Yeah, just right now they needed someone to fill in this case, the others-” he stops realizing he had said too much. “Well, they had other matters to deal with…”
“Anyways, why are you here again?” he presses. I really don’t know what to say, I mean, I can’t think of a good lie but I can’t think of a good way to put the truth either. Then I remember the Chief’s reaction, he was definitely hiding something back there and if he knows something then maybe he told the others on-duty like Jerald. I decided to give it a shot and confess everything to him pretty quickly.
“I don’t know, yesterday Me, Carter, Jack and Logan were camping, then we went back inside and in the middle of the night, this thing with black goo bit Jack and we took it down but then Jack started spitting the black goo and bit logan-”
“You... already saw them?” He asks
“Biters” he balks for a few seconds. “Some kind of disease going around, they’ll tell you everything when you’re back on the job” he turns to leave but I stop him.
“Look, I lost 2 people I’ve known for years last night, can you just tell me what the hell is going on here?” He sighs and looks me in the eye.
“I’m not allowed to say anything to anyone, but look, these biters are multiplying, lock your doors and try not to go outside too much, that’s all I can offer, enjoy the rest of your vacation.”
I take in all of this relatively slowly but I still manage to thank him and drive back home. After that, it was difficult to be at ease whenever I remembered what Jerald told me. Which is why I slept a lot, it was a good distraction, but in the back of my mind, I always knew that this thing wasn’t getting better, only worse. And I knew that when I got called in, the real fun begins.
Alright, that’s enough storytelling. I’m going to take my pills now, nothing good ever happens with my mood when I remember all this. I’ll tell you the rest later, but for now, farewell.
It's pretty good, in terms of plot it's definitely not bad and while it maintains the typical zombie disease theme it's got its own twist on the thing which is original, or at least original enough; the black infective goo thing. I don't remember seeing that in zombie fiction before.
The story needs a bunch of work however. Mechanically, your tenses are off. The whole re-telling should be in the past tense but it jumps from past tense to present tense all the time. "He looks" where it should have been "He looked". Some grammar issues are present as well. Have a go at proof reading it, maybe have someone go over this for you too.
In terms of plot, the weirdest part is however everything feels kind of meta. Like the characters know things they shouldn't know. You shouldn't tell us you know what's going to happen as a first person narrator through the voices of other characters. Parts like "It's taking over, I just know" are bad, what does this even mean? Change it for something along the line of "Something's eating me from within" or something like that. Still absolute in its terrible oncoming outcome but less "They knew their fate". Make the story seem realistic by means of the people acting like actual people. You can't tell what will happen next for you, neither should your characters. You the author knows this, you the in story narrator didn't know it when it was about to happen.
Also, the whole "zombies taking over the world" is highly unlikely, unless its some World War Z sort of strain coupled with Chernobyl time soviet styled reaction. It's just going to happen. A government is most likely to quarantine the location of the outbreak and probably eradicate the problem before knowledge of it breaks out to the international community.
The name "biters" is also kind of not it. It's weird how zombie fiction is REALLY prevalent in our reality but no one who writes a futurist or modern fiction story ever uses the word "zombie" in their fiction. We all know what zombies are and what we'd consider zombies. So why do we need "biters" "walkers" and other crappy names pretending like zombies aren't a thing in our collective imagination.