It's a zombie story. Read, enjoy if possible.
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This Nightmare’s Something New
Prologue
Based on Tomorrow I’ll Be You by Dasutin.
(Fictionpress (dot) com/s/2354870/1/)

The cop dressed in his clean blue uniform walked casually up to the door of a white 92 Celica, the window was down and the man inside held out his licence bundled with scraps of paper that was his insurance.

“No need to ask... I was going 70 in a 45 because I like going fast.”

The officer gave the man a ‘well aren’t you special’ look with his stern white face, covering with a thin brown moustache but took the documents without word. He looked to the licence in his hand.

Name - Bryce Ridgeway
D.O.B. - 04/16/92
Hair Color - Brown
Eye Color - Green
6'0"212 lbs.

He looked back to the driver. Long, Curly brown hair with dark green eyes stared at the white line beside the highway he was parked upon. The eyes looked back to the officer, then to the hand holding his licence. On the back of his hand was a large, white bandage. The officer noticed him staring.

“A runaway cut me, trying to get away. Attacking an officer is a bad idea, I pulled out my pistol and capped his ass in self defense. Let that be a warning to you. In case you try to run.”
Bryce ignored his ‘warning.’

“Can I have my licence back yet?”

The officer gave him another dirty look. “I was going to let you off with a warning, I don’t like standing next to the highway, but if you’d like to be a little smart-ass we’ll see how you like a ticket.”

With that, the officer turned and walked to the white and black police car behind the Celica, lights still flashing. With a heavy sigh, Bryce leaned against the door and stared up to the sky through his front windshield. The clouds overhead were dark, blocking out the midday sun. Weird. The weather reported no chance of rain. But sure enough, dots of water began to strike the windshield.

The rain picked up over the course of 5 minutes, the police officer still hadn’t brought back his licence. They always took forever to run this through...

Through his rearview mirror, Bryce saw the officer get out of his car and walk back, writing the ticket. The uniform was soaked, the bandage on the officer’s hand was soaked too. Suddenly, the officer looked at his hand and fell to the ground. He screamed, screeched more or less, and rolled on the side of the road. Bryce got out of the car and ran to the office. Douchebag or not, the officer was only doing his job.

“Hey, Hey, what’s wrong?” Bryce asked the officer, kneeling to his side. The officer didn’t listen. He continued to flail around holding his hand. He ripped the bandage off, staring at the wound still screaming. He took one short look, then lost consciousness.

Bryce sat next to the officer, not knowing what to do. He snatched his licence from the ground where the officer had dropped it and pulled his phone from his pocket. His hair matted to his head, he wiped his hair from his face and dialed 9-1-1.

“Hello, emergency services, what is your emergency?” came a woman’s voice from the other side. Bryce replied calmly.

“An officer is wounded, he lost consciousness... I’m not sure what happened but he’s out cold on the side of Highway 54.”

“Paramedics will be there soon sir, please stay put. How was he wounded?”

“I’m not sure, he just started screaming and fell to the ground.”

“Alright. Stay put sir. We’ll ask more questions when we arrive.”

After maybe 5 minutes of watching the cop, his body began twitching and convulsing violently. After another 5 minutes, the paramedics arrived. They hoisted the officer up into the back on a stretcher and drove off, leaving Bryce without a ticket.

“Lucky break, I guess...” he said to himself as he approached the Celica. He drove home, a strange feeling that something bad was about to happen.

But he figured it was just him being paranoid.

That’s it.

Just paranoid.