A Zombie Story

I'm sorry if this seems a bit bumpy at the beginning, I spent an hour working on this story, only to have deleted it. This is a  Basically it is 1930, the main character is Jacob Anglaham. Raven, the very first kid, comes back to this village of two thousand. He acted a little zombie-ish. Then says everyone is stuck in the Land Of The Miserable. Unfortunately that makes some villagers mad, most just morun, and they send a party over to Raven, only to find him being eaten by an actually zombie(Aberham). Jacob's father is in the little raid, along with Jacob himself.
I'll re-write the beginning after I'm not too angry at myself

An immensely bight flash emitted from the rifle; followed by a loud crack, ringing across the night. I saw Aberhams shoulder jerk backwards, he acted as if it was nothing. I could see dark blood encircled around the bed, then Ravens mutilated head fell on the floor with a sickning plop. Aberham let out a moan that chilled the marrow of my bones. I couldn't stand it anymore.
                I lept past the surprised men, and hurled myself at Aberham.
                He had the strength of five men, but I had the speed of one. His limbering arms fell towards me; I slipped under both of them, and uppercutted, with my knife. The rotting body fell were I was standing a split second ago. Raven sat up, black entrails splattered on the floor; all of the men raised their rifles, but it was too late.
                They were entranced, as was I, by the way his fingers worked the air; with every passing a pathway was worn into the fabric(?) of the air. Soon, or maybe it was hours, the symbol began to pulse a reddish light into the room. With each passing pulse the entrancing symbol grew brighter, until it was nearly impossible to see Raven's black limbs working the emblem. Suddenly the blinding light nearly stopped; his hands fall to his side. Raven raised his hands and shot a crimson beam into the heavens(?).
                The light arced as it left the earth, then shot back down, piercing each of our bodies. It wasn't so much pain, as it was raw energy, the energy to walk among the living, even after that was taken from us. It was enough to create a crude life after this, although the only was to gain more energy was take it from the cells of the living; the golden energy pulsated from each of our bodies.
                After the incident we all left and continued as if nothing was wrong, as if we did not see the blood-life of everything, tapping into the grid(?) of life. It was one of the biggest mistakes you could ever make.
                Three days later the first corpse walked. The graveyardwas already overrun by the time someone sneaked inside, when the kid got back; he was bitten physically all over. After telling us the situation of the grave; he succumbed to his wounds. That was about the time when we figured out the magnitude of this.
                We all borrded out houses; we did not know that once it got inside, there would be planks between us and our lives. My family was one of the smarter ones, we found a cave(?), were the only way up was an incredibly steep climb. We waited there for six months; huddling together for warmth, then the food ran out.

 [Continued tomorrow(?)]

An entire village did disappear, there is a website; but apparently chess.com got rid of the link while I slept. I would like some feedback, so I can improve the story. I'm going to try to update it daily, but don't ecpect too much; I can't always get on whenever I would like.