Dan woke up to the uncomfortableness of damp wood on his back. On a night his long body would often squeeze itself out of the miniature sleeping bag and onto the floor where his body could have more room to stretch out. Dan barely slept, he would sleep as late as possible and wake up to an orange coloured sky, and rays of the sunrise would blind him slightly.

Cold air filled the tiny, wooden tree house and Dan wrapped his arms around himself to keep the tiniest bit warm. Stretching and sitting up Dan was met by the foggy coldness of his morning breath, that came out of his mouth in silky steam.

When the world was normal and not crawling with living corpses, Dan used to love waking up to the tranquil sound of singing birds. But now Dan was lucky to wake up and hear the groans and grumbles of the monsters that were wandering around the forest just below the tree house. Birds didn’t sing anymore, they had gone, rather eaten or escaped. He sometimes wished he was a bird, to fly away from this abnormal reality.

Dan knew he couldn't stay resting and daydreaming on the cold floor forever, and it was the grumble of his stomach that pulled Dan up and towards the limited pile of cans. Using the hunting knife that was tucked neatly behind his stash of food, he dug it into the can and took off the lid.

The syrupy goodness filled his mouth and the sugary peaches slipped down his throat like a luxury. He aggressively dug at the sides of the cans with his fingers getting every last bit. When it was empty it just reminded him that he had to head out and find more. Supplies were running low, and his stomach was going to get emptier throughout the day.

He didn't really want to leave the treehouse at all, it being above ground was enough to keep him safe. But he knew, if he wanted to have a chance at beating this apocalypse, he would have to survive through it.

Next to his bed, Dan always kept a medium sized backpack that he could keep all of his essential items in. He always made sure that his bag was filled with one bottle of water, two cans of food, a hunting knife and a few bandages.

Dan shoved the bag onto his shoulders, its light weight not having any effect on his stature. There was enough room left inside for him to carry back whatever he picked up on his journey. However, his hopes were not high for his family home but he could not afford to turn down the chance for new supplies, even if he was returning with something small, anything was helpful.

Subtly, Dan poked his head out of the small window, looking down at the forest floor. The area around the tree was empty, so jumping down to the ground would be very easy. Yet Dan could still hear slight grunts from the maze of branches.

Grabbing his shotgun, Dan lifted up the hatch and jumped to the floor, his bag making a small clanking sound as he landed. None of the Undead around seemed to pay him any attention, so Dan set off into the trees, his gun pointing forward. There was always a risk that someone may find the treehouse while Dan was gone, however, Dan did not have much for them to take, and it had been a while since he had seen another living soul around that area, for all he knew, Dan could have been the only one left.

Soon after getting started on his short journey, Dan let his arms fall to his side, leaving his gun pointing to the floor. The route he was taking seemed to avoid the monsters entirely. After a small portion of time he felt himself start to relax more and more. He was starting to enjoy the sound of leaves and branches snapping under his boots.

It was an unusually nice day and Dan couldn’t help but be thankful for the people who were surviving without shelter or warm clothes. Nobody wanted to be stuck outside in the cold, no home, no supplies and most definitely no weapons.

Dan felt lucky that he came across the abandoned tree house. He took shelter there when running from a herd the day of the change. Up there he found a sleeping bag and a small collection of children's toys. Whoever it belonged to, they had obviously fled.

Eventually, Dan started to see the roofs and chimneys of the houses in his old neighbourhood. He could recognise his own from a mile away. His tall, back fence was facing the trees. It was a dark orange colour. Black roof tiles were placed on top of the sophisticated white bricks. Just seeing it brought back so many good memories. Only this time, the usual welcoming steam coming from the chimney was not there and an immense sense of isolation hung over it.

Sneakily, Dan looked over the top of the fence, checking for any sign of life. The inside of the house and the outside looked still and empty. Quietness was not an ordinary thing for Dan, when his house was involved.

Putting both hands on the top of the splintery wood, he hoisted himself over and landed on his feet, on the fakest grass he had ever seen. His family was always a lover of the artificial look for things.

Without a thought he walked towards the sliding back door and opened it without effort. He found himself face to face with the dining room. He had eaten many breakfast, lunches and dinners in this room. Dan could almost smell the old scent of blueberry pie, the one his mother used to make.

Trying to shake the thought, Dan kept his gun pointed straight in front of him, as he stepped quietly into his kitchen. Overall, the house looked untouched and deserted. Everything was kept just as he remembered it.

He pulled the pantry door open and to his surprise, it was packed with food, cans and packets full of non perishables. Bottles of water were stored on multiple shelves. Dan felt the excitement flood through him. He couldn't believe that even in the afterlife, his family was still coming through for him.

Without thinking, Dan slipped his bag off his shoulders and began to fill it up with cans and bottles. There was just so much that he couldn't fit it all in. He was sure he would have to make multiple trips to collect it all. Dan didn’t mind, all he could think about was how full he would be feeling after he treated himself to all this food.

But just as he was shoving a can into the last remaining space in his bag, the sound of a gun's cocking handle being pulled back made him stop. There was someone behind him, a loaded gun pushing in between his shoulder blades. He dropped the bag to the floor, and raised his hands up slowly. He could hear his heart beat in his ears.

"Trying to steal from us, are you boy?" The gruff sounding voice asked, making Dan shake his head quickly, gulping down any fear, "Turn around to look me in the eyes."

He was demanding, Dan didn't want to argue with him, especially when his bag and gun was on the floor and he couldn't pick them up. Dan slowly began to turn around to look at the man in question.

The mystery man looked only a little bit older than him, but his dark black stubble and menacing looking bags under his eyes made him look much more intimidating. His teeth were yellow and dirty and Dan could probably guess that his breath smelt really bad.

"Now go into the living room boy, I have some friends waiting for you." He smirked at Dan, keeping the gun still pointing directly at him.

Dan started to move immediately and left the kitchen with wobbly legs underneath him. He barely made it into the dinning room without toppling over out of nerves. But his sweating became a lot more intense when he entered the living room. His breathing became quicker, he was trying to steady it before he had a panic attack.

Sat surrounding him were four other men, each holding a gun and a huge bag that looked as though they had been filled with things that they had raided from people. By the mean looks on their faces and the blood covering their bodies, Dan knew it was a forced raiding of very innocent people.

"Get on your knees, Sonny." The voice growled from behind him, Dan felt a hand on the back of his neck force him down to the floor and all he could do was keep his eyes on the carpet, "We're going to show you what happens when you steal from well known bandits."

Dan closed his eyes and started to breathe even heavier. He knew what was coming, they all had guns and an evil aura. He wasn't going to survive the awful blows of the guns they held, especially now one was digging deeply into his back.

He prepared for the gun noise, but before that came, the noise of the door busting open made his body jump. He expected to be shot there and then but the only gun noises he heard were coming from the front of the house. He couldn't move, he was in so much shock that everything went past him in a blur.

The owner of the gun that was currently pushed into his back, jumped as well. That's when he heard the gun blow and he felt it but he didn't expect it. Instead of hitting him in the back, the pain shot through the side of the body making him topple onto the floor.

"No one takes my shit and lives to do it again!" A female voice yelled out, very aggressively. But to Dan this was a distant echo.

Gunshots and screams were becoming further and further away as Dan came in and out of consciousness. Dan could feel all of his blood gushing from his wound, he was struggling to call out for help over all of the noise. Then all of a sudden it stopped, just as Dan lost all the energy to speak and the whole room had gone very quiet. He thought he was dead and the quietness signified that he had moved to the other side of life, passing on to the other side. But just as he floated away, he heard two people speak.

"They hurt him bad, chief." A male voice called out, his voice much smoother than the others.

"Well shit Jackson, grab him and let's go." The same female voice from before had replied quickly, as though she was out of breath.

And just then Dan felt his body lift up from the floor and he lost all consciousness.