“Everything’s ok sir, we’re going to get you out of here.”
Sam slowly started to get set, but suddenly found the man’s hands clutching at his shoulders like a vice. The man lurched at him, his mouth wide open, his burned face showing no signs of pain, drool dripping from his teeth. His eye lids had been burned off and with each groan his eyes rolled back into his head. Sam’s hand shot up around the man’s chest, pushing him back.
“Sir, stop! Sir, I can’t help you if you act like this. I’m here to get you out of here. Let me help you sir. Let me help you!”
Suddenly the room was engulfed in flames, and the only exit was about to become sealed, and this room, their tomb if Sam didn’t act quickly. But how could he when he was fighting this man. The man was rolling around underneath his body, and trying any way possible to actually bite him. He had never seen anything like this at all. The woman, still clutching something in her hand , held a bar in her other. As suddenly as she had appeared behind them, the pipe came down across the fire driven insane man’s head. His skull crushed under the force of the blow, his body quickly went limp. His eyes dull, went dark and there was no longer any movement from him. Sam sat there, staring as the woman walked to him, placed a vial of what seemed like blood in his hand.
“I have helped to create this thing, take this vial, it will be everything they need to stop what is about to happen.” She turned around and walked into the flames, never looking back. Sam dropped the vial and ran out of the room, it shattering on the ground.
“They’re dead.” It’s all he said he could say.
Sam shook his head, and looked around. The sun would be coming up soon and Mara was still sleeping. He sighed heavily. He couldn’t help but think back on that night, and wonder what would have happened if he had just kept his head, then maybe, all this death and destruction could have all been avoided. He needed to catch a few hours of sleep before the sun came up. He sat down beside Mara, his back propped up against the wall, his axe, laying across his lap, he closed his eyes, slowly falling asleep.
Sunday, December 27, 2009
#3
“I’m Mara. Thank you for your help.” She looked around the store one last time; satisfied she sighed, nothing to eat once again. Sam hesitated, and Mara looked over her shoulder.
“You going to lead the way, or am I going to have to do all the work?” He shook his head and laughed, pushed through the door and out into the setting sun.
So, now, there they were, Mara sleeping on top of this building and Sam peering down at the street. From this height, he couldn’t see much of anything. Though he didn’t really need to see anything to know what was going on. With the checkered pattern of the street lights, he could see figures walking in slow lurching gates. No direction to them at all. He had seen a single zombie tear into a man and leave nothing but a red mark on the street with pieces of flesh here and there. There was no leader to the pack; he had seen them work alone and in groups. No communication other then groans. Those groans haunted his sleep. That’s why most of his hiding spots were so high. He had to escape the echoing sounds of those condemned souls, if there was even a soul left. Even up in the clouds though, the vibrations of a mob could resonate in his chest. He looked down at Mara, as she lay there in the darkness sleeping. He wondered how she had survived so long on her own. She was definitely not your average woman. The way she held that crowbar, there was no doubt in his mind, she had brought many a crushing blow to the skull of those zombies. She must have had seen this coming. She must have had a plan ready to be set in motion at a moment’s notice. But then again, Sam hoped that about everyone. Someone had to be as paranoid as him. Someone had to have seen the signs other than him.
Sam bolted up suddenly. The alarm was going off. He jumped out of bed and ran towards the pole. No sooner then he reached it, he was half way down it. It was a three alarm fire. Sam knew he had to be quick; lives were at stake no doubt. He ran to his locker, threw on his pants and boots, and grabbed his jacket, shoving his arms into the holes, his hands snatching his gloves off the shelf, the moment they had come out of the sleeves. Running to the truck as it was starting out of the bay he jumped for his seat and they headed out.
The fire was intense. It was one of those labs down town in the developmental complex. The whole building was engulfed in flames. Sam and the rest of his crew were told of a few survivors not so deep in the flames. His captain asked if they felt the fire was too great, and the chance of the team making it out was no greater than them making it to those trapped inside. Sam didn’t even have to say a word, his brother in law handed him his mask and axe, and the team headed into the flames. It wasn’t long before they made it to the area the trapped victims were supposed to be. The flames were dancing all around them, darting at him every chance they got. There was a lab door, half off its hinges, and Sam saw two people fighting in the room. As he ran over to the door, his foot caught the door in its center and sent it off its hinges. One of the people was covered in flames, the other, clutching something in her hand seemed to be fighting off the other. That was the first time he heard that groan. He thought the man was delirious with pain and anguish and was attacking the woman. Sam’s training kicked in and tackled the man, trying to roll him on the floor, beat at the flames with his hands, anything to douse the flames. The woman screamed, telling Sam to run, get away from him. The flames were out and Sam turned the man on his back.
“You going to lead the way, or am I going to have to do all the work?” He shook his head and laughed, pushed through the door and out into the setting sun.
So, now, there they were, Mara sleeping on top of this building and Sam peering down at the street. From this height, he couldn’t see much of anything. Though he didn’t really need to see anything to know what was going on. With the checkered pattern of the street lights, he could see figures walking in slow lurching gates. No direction to them at all. He had seen a single zombie tear into a man and leave nothing but a red mark on the street with pieces of flesh here and there. There was no leader to the pack; he had seen them work alone and in groups. No communication other then groans. Those groans haunted his sleep. That’s why most of his hiding spots were so high. He had to escape the echoing sounds of those condemned souls, if there was even a soul left. Even up in the clouds though, the vibrations of a mob could resonate in his chest. He looked down at Mara, as she lay there in the darkness sleeping. He wondered how she had survived so long on her own. She was definitely not your average woman. The way she held that crowbar, there was no doubt in his mind, she had brought many a crushing blow to the skull of those zombies. She must have had seen this coming. She must have had a plan ready to be set in motion at a moment’s notice. But then again, Sam hoped that about everyone. Someone had to be as paranoid as him. Someone had to have seen the signs other than him.
Sam bolted up suddenly. The alarm was going off. He jumped out of bed and ran towards the pole. No sooner then he reached it, he was half way down it. It was a three alarm fire. Sam knew he had to be quick; lives were at stake no doubt. He ran to his locker, threw on his pants and boots, and grabbed his jacket, shoving his arms into the holes, his hands snatching his gloves off the shelf, the moment they had come out of the sleeves. Running to the truck as it was starting out of the bay he jumped for his seat and they headed out.
The fire was intense. It was one of those labs down town in the developmental complex. The whole building was engulfed in flames. Sam and the rest of his crew were told of a few survivors not so deep in the flames. His captain asked if they felt the fire was too great, and the chance of the team making it out was no greater than them making it to those trapped inside. Sam didn’t even have to say a word, his brother in law handed him his mask and axe, and the team headed into the flames. It wasn’t long before they made it to the area the trapped victims were supposed to be. The flames were dancing all around them, darting at him every chance they got. There was a lab door, half off its hinges, and Sam saw two people fighting in the room. As he ran over to the door, his foot caught the door in its center and sent it off its hinges. One of the people was covered in flames, the other, clutching something in her hand seemed to be fighting off the other. That was the first time he heard that groan. He thought the man was delirious with pain and anguish and was attacking the woman. Sam’s training kicked in and tackled the man, trying to roll him on the floor, beat at the flames with his hands, anything to douse the flames. The woman screamed, telling Sam to run, get away from him. The flames were out and Sam turned the man on his back.
#2
He saw her come out from the back. Her knuckles almost translucent, as she clutched the crowbar in her hand. Her hair, which could really have been any color had it not been for the dirt, was dark and curly. Though, much like him, she had the look of a veteran survivor. He watched her for a while as she searched the store for life or death. Finding neither, she took her searching to finding food. Even though the place was empty, she left no shelf unchecked. Finally Sam stood up. She caught the movement and spun quickly on her heels and charged him, the crowbar above her head, ready to kill. She had no fear, and Sam jumped back, not expecting this in the least bit. He held up his hands.
“Stop! I’m a survivor like you!” Sam screamed.
She stopped dead in her tracks. Her eyes watering, her body trembling, her hands giving way to the weight of the crowbar, letting it fall to the floor. She sunk to her knees and, her shoulders slouched, her head hung down. She cried. Sam didn’t know what to do. He just stood there. All he could think was that her crying was going to draw much attention to them and they didn’t want that.
“You have to stop crying. The will hear you and then, well, I don’t think I have to remind you what they will do to us. We haven’t survived this long to get careless now.” He stepped forward and held out his hand.
She looked up at him, the blood stained weapon on the ground beside her. She picked it up with one hand, the other she used to push herself up off the ground.
“I thought I was all alone here. Where… how… I thought everyone was dead.” Her lip quivered, on the verge of crying again.
“There were others. About 20 of us, then we got split up. 15 went north after a building crashed down, and cut us off. I am all that is left out of the rest. I don’t know how the others faired. I can only imagine the same fate found them.” He had some good friends in that group. He hadn’t thought of them in a long time. It hurt to remember the loss, so he pushed them back out of his mind.
“So it’s just me and you then?” She couldn’t believe that out of a whole city, state, maybe even country, and all that was left was them.
“I don’t know, you tell me. Two minutes ago, it was just me and the zombies.” He chuckled a little.
“Don’t say that word. Please don’t say that word. It just makes this nightmare so much more worse. To think, that we actually created things that cause so much death and destruction. It’s almost too much to bear at times.” Little did she know, Sam, was one of those creators, and he blamed himself every day for what he helped create.
“Well, we best be getting out of here. I know where we can go. It will be night soon, and night is not a good time to be out around here. I am Sam by the way.” He held his hand out once again, this time she took it.
“Stop! I’m a survivor like you!” Sam screamed.
She stopped dead in her tracks. Her eyes watering, her body trembling, her hands giving way to the weight of the crowbar, letting it fall to the floor. She sunk to her knees and, her shoulders slouched, her head hung down. She cried. Sam didn’t know what to do. He just stood there. All he could think was that her crying was going to draw much attention to them and they didn’t want that.
“You have to stop crying. The will hear you and then, well, I don’t think I have to remind you what they will do to us. We haven’t survived this long to get careless now.” He stepped forward and held out his hand.
She looked up at him, the blood stained weapon on the ground beside her. She picked it up with one hand, the other she used to push herself up off the ground.
“I thought I was all alone here. Where… how… I thought everyone was dead.” Her lip quivered, on the verge of crying again.
“There were others. About 20 of us, then we got split up. 15 went north after a building crashed down, and cut us off. I am all that is left out of the rest. I don’t know how the others faired. I can only imagine the same fate found them.” He had some good friends in that group. He hadn’t thought of them in a long time. It hurt to remember the loss, so he pushed them back out of his mind.
“So it’s just me and you then?” She couldn’t believe that out of a whole city, state, maybe even country, and all that was left was them.
“I don’t know, you tell me. Two minutes ago, it was just me and the zombies.” He chuckled a little.
“Don’t say that word. Please don’t say that word. It just makes this nightmare so much more worse. To think, that we actually created things that cause so much death and destruction. It’s almost too much to bear at times.” Little did she know, Sam, was one of those creators, and he blamed himself every day for what he helped create.
“Well, we best be getting out of here. I know where we can go. It will be night soon, and night is not a good time to be out around here. I am Sam by the way.” He held his hand out once again, this time she took it.
#1
He sat there staring out into the darkness that was now his nightmare. He couldn’t help but think how things weren’t always like this. In the darkness, something stirred beside him. Any other time, a moment like that would have caused for quiet a response from him. He knew who it was. She was sleeping. Probably the first real full sleep she has had in the two years since this all happened. Was that all it had been? Just two years? It seemed more like an eternity. As if they were the fallen angels cast down from heaven, this plague of un-death, punishment from the hands that once protected them.
The sun had set hours ago. Yet Sam wouldn’t even dare to think of sleeping right now. Sure, they were on the roof of this 45 story building. Height meant nothing to these creatures. They would smell him somehow and they would get to them. He had to be on his guard now; his senses were now responsible for more than just his life.
He was searching a little “mom and pop” grocery store, when she found him. Ironically he used to go to these stores looking for a date, and now, when it was the furthest thing from his mind, one falls into his lap. The canned goods isle was, like most stores, bare with a few cans left here and there, their edges busted, its rotten contents forced out of the cracks. With there being nothing to stock up on, he was about ready to leave, when he heard a noise. This noise wasn’t the kind that made him jump. It was still a noise and he left nothing to chance. The steps, they staggered, yet no sound of the scrapping, dragging feet he was used to hearing. There was the sound of breathing, though the person seemed almost out of it. Being cautions, that is what had kept him alive this long, and something he was about to forget right now. He looked around quickly, finding a cashier’s conveyer belt to hide behind, he sat and waited.
She sat up quickly. Where was she? She was in a bathroom stall, the kind were the walls went all the way from floor to ceiling. The door was pushed to; boards nailed to it, nothing short of a runaway car could break through there. It was slowly coming back to her now. She had run here, two days ago. The mob of death following her, she busted into the store, and found this spot. Someone else had prepped this place, but there was no-one around. She used it in their stead. She remembered nailing the boards to the door. Stopping with every pound of the hammer to try and figure out if she had given away her location. A simple groaning of the boards flexing under the force of the hammer sent chills down her back, causing her to stop even longer and listen. After the last nail had been driven, she sat back, closed her eyes for what only seemed like a minute and rested. She fell hard into a darkness full of horrors she had only seen in movies and never thought would be true life. Never did she dream that this could, would ever happen in a million years. Now here she was, waking up in a bathroom, her dress no more than a moving first aid bandage. What once was a beautiful floral, ankle length dress was now a tattered and torn knee high rag. Her stomach hurt from the lack of food she hadn’t had. How long had she been out? Two, maybe three days? As slowly as she had put up the boards, she returned them to the floor. Stopping once for a several minutes when she thought she heard footsteps. Dismissed as paranoia, she removed the last board and slowly opened the door. The crowbar firmly in hand, she slowly walked out into the store, knuckles white from clenching the metal.
The sun had set hours ago. Yet Sam wouldn’t even dare to think of sleeping right now. Sure, they were on the roof of this 45 story building. Height meant nothing to these creatures. They would smell him somehow and they would get to them. He had to be on his guard now; his senses were now responsible for more than just his life.
He was searching a little “mom and pop” grocery store, when she found him. Ironically he used to go to these stores looking for a date, and now, when it was the furthest thing from his mind, one falls into his lap. The canned goods isle was, like most stores, bare with a few cans left here and there, their edges busted, its rotten contents forced out of the cracks. With there being nothing to stock up on, he was about ready to leave, when he heard a noise. This noise wasn’t the kind that made him jump. It was still a noise and he left nothing to chance. The steps, they staggered, yet no sound of the scrapping, dragging feet he was used to hearing. There was the sound of breathing, though the person seemed almost out of it. Being cautions, that is what had kept him alive this long, and something he was about to forget right now. He looked around quickly, finding a cashier’s conveyer belt to hide behind, he sat and waited.
She sat up quickly. Where was she? She was in a bathroom stall, the kind were the walls went all the way from floor to ceiling. The door was pushed to; boards nailed to it, nothing short of a runaway car could break through there. It was slowly coming back to her now. She had run here, two days ago. The mob of death following her, she busted into the store, and found this spot. Someone else had prepped this place, but there was no-one around. She used it in their stead. She remembered nailing the boards to the door. Stopping with every pound of the hammer to try and figure out if she had given away her location. A simple groaning of the boards flexing under the force of the hammer sent chills down her back, causing her to stop even longer and listen. After the last nail had been driven, she sat back, closed her eyes for what only seemed like a minute and rested. She fell hard into a darkness full of horrors she had only seen in movies and never thought would be true life. Never did she dream that this could, would ever happen in a million years. Now here she was, waking up in a bathroom, her dress no more than a moving first aid bandage. What once was a beautiful floral, ankle length dress was now a tattered and torn knee high rag. Her stomach hurt from the lack of food she hadn’t had. How long had she been out? Two, maybe three days? As slowly as she had put up the boards, she returned them to the floor. Stopping once for a several minutes when she thought she heard footsteps. Dismissed as paranoia, she removed the last board and slowly opened the door. The crowbar firmly in hand, she slowly walked out into the store, knuckles white from clenching the metal.
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