Austin Forbes

12-3-08

Period 1

Old Sun

His footsteps pounded against the cold metal of the stairs as he raced towards the top. He stopped briefly and looked out through a window. The helicopter flew by, and the teenager continued racing up the stairs. As he got to the top he pushed the door open, only to see the chopper disappear behind buildings. The teen sighed and walked onto the concrete of the helipad. He sat down and put his M4 next to him. He lay back onto the concrete and looked at the stars. His name tag read Ramirez. His clothes were tattered and slightly torn. They were military clothes that fit him well. The name tag wasn't from a soldiers, it was one he had made himself. Ramirez shot up when he heard the screams below. He stood up, picking up his rifle and running towards the edge of the roof. He looked down to see a horde of them below, feasting on a fresh corpse. There weren't many survivors anymore. Ramirez shook his head. He quickly focused on the stairs as he heard them running up.

He glanced around for an escape route and looked at a sturdy vent pipe sticking out from the rooftop. Ramirez ran towards it and unhooked his rope from his belt and began tying it around the pipe. He got up on the edge of the roof and got ready to rappel down. He turned around to see a few of them running towards him. He got his rifle into firing position and squeezed the trigger. They dropped quickly. Thankfully he had a suppressor on or an entire horde would have made their way up. He slung his rifle over his shoulder and then began to make his way down from the roof. He slowly crept down the side of the windows. Most of them were boarded, so they offered protection from the ones on the other side. After a couple minutes he touched the pavement. Ramirez turned around, raising his rifle and getting a quick glance of the area. It was quiet. He hugged the side of the building and began moving quickly and quietly. It wasn't going to be easy. Getting in was easy, getting out was like Tetris on extreme.

As he made his way to a corner of the building, he slowly peeked around. His head flew straight back. There were a lot of them. Ramirez sighed and opened his bag for a homemade pipe bomb. He hit the light on the bomb and it began blinking a bright red and gave off a loud beeping noise. He pulled out the lighter and lit the fuse. Ramirez turned the corner and tossed the bomb as far as he could. They went after it like a dog and its chew toy. This was his chance. He made a quick dash away from them, towards the freeway where it was safe. He heard the bomb in the distance. This would keep the crazies at bay for awhile. Ramirez sighed as he got on to the freeway; just another day in rapture.

(X)

Ramirez made his way through a small town and past an old farmhouse to an abandoned shed. He looked around before he opened the door and quickly got in, shutting it behind him. He moved the three iron bars on the door and pulled the steel shutter over it. He reached down and pulled open the trapdoor and jumped down. He closed that and put the iron grate back up against it. He walked down the corridor that he had dug. It took him two weeks to create his so called, sanctuary. When Ramirez got into the room he looked around at his small bed, the lamps, and the stove (which he had built from wires and car batteries), his favorite chair that was next to his makeshift table and most importantly, his collection. Ramirez's collection consisted of many things, photos, bottle caps, bracelets that were made by his girlfriend. Those were really important to him. His girlfriend died shortly after the… infection spread.

Ramirez set his rifle in his gun rack and took off his tactical vest and threw it on his bed. He sat down on the couch and closed his eyes. The helicopter that he was after came by everyday, but for some reason the pilot never saw him. Ramirez lit bonfires, exploded gas stations, and even fired at the chopper once or twice. Nothing got his attention. The pilot headed west, but Ramirez never wanted to start a journey. It was too dangerous.

He sat there with a look on his face, a look of confusion. He knew what he had to do. Two years he spent in this sanctuary of his, but no rescue ever came. Ramirez decided the next day he would head west, hoping that somebody was still alive.

(X)

Ramirez awoke startled as he heard gun shots outside of the shed. He shook his head to get him awake and he jumped off the couch and grabbed his rifle and tactical vest. He made his way down the corridor to the trap door; he removed the grate and climbed up. He peaked through a hole inside the shed and saw what was going on outside. There were military men aiming guns at other live human beings. Another soldier was walking forward, throwing trip mines left and right. The other soldiers got the humans up and faced them towards the soldier on the other side of all the trip mines. One of soldiers pulled out his handgun from his holster and fired it into the air. The captive humans ran through the field to the soldier. One of the unlucky humans happened to step on a mine and it exploded. Blood and different pieces spread out through the field. The soldiers all laughed.

The other surviving humans didn't want to run back and forth. One of the soldiers was yelling at him, telling him to run or he would be shot. The man spat in his face and the soldier shot him. The soldier who shot the man walked back to the truck, and the other soldiers opened fire on the captives. Ramirez became angry, but he knew he couldn't do anything. He took a closer look at the man in the passenger side; he looked to be the leader. The leader was smoking a cigarette and the sun glasses he wore hid his evil glare. Something inside Ramirez made him pull up that shutter and take off the bars, it made him raise his rifle and peer down his scope and take aim at the man, it made him squeeze the trigger, and it made him kill the man. It wasn't just a couple seconds after that when the other soldiers opened fire on Ramirez. Ramirez jumped back down into the hole and made his way back down the corridor. He went to his gun rack and grabbed a few extra magazines, his .12 gauge Remington pump action shotgun, and a bandolier of shells. He slung his rifle and held his Remington in hand. Ramirez made his way back down the corridor only to find one of the soldiers looking down. Ramirez shouldered his shotgun tight to his shoulder and pulled the trigger. The blast echoed through the air, and the mans head exploded, leaving blood and brain matter covering the wall. Ramirez quickly lurched forward, keeping his shotgun tight to his shoulder and gazing up the hole. The soldiers must have backed off from the shot.

Ramirez pushed against the ladder and pulled a mirror from a pouch pocket. He slowly brought it up and saw there was nothing there. He brought it back down, slowly turned around, and began to climb the ladder. As he got up to the top, there was a sharp crackle, he felt a sharp pain in his left shoulder, he fell backwards, grabbing his shoulder, and trying not to cry in pain. Ramirez rolled to the side and picked himself up and got himself against the ladder again. He reached behind him and pulled out an M67 grenade. Ramirez sighed and pulled the pin, tossing it above the hole and out the doorway. He covered his ears but it still wasn't enough for the explosion. Ramirez shook his head, climbed up the ladder, put the shotgun so it was leaning against the door, and shouldered his M4. He poked his head out of the door way, swinging his rifle right and left. He saw some of the soldiers still getting up from the aftershock of the explosion. He peered down his scope, took aim at the soldiers, and fired. They didn't even know what was coming to them.

Ramirez grabbed the shotgun and began to run across the field to an old, worn-down tractor. As he got closer more shots rang out in the air and he ran even faster. When he was close enough, he dived and rolled behind it. When he raised his head, he saw from under the tractor, a soldier approaching him. Ramirez reached to his right side, pulled out his USP and aimed at the kneecap of the soldier. He squeezed the trigger and a shot burst out, striking the soldier in the kneecap. He screamed in pain as he hit the grass. Ramirez moved his arms to the left and aimed at the soldiers head. He pulled the trigger and a neatly placed hole was now in his forehead.

Ramirez jumped up, and grabbed his shotgun, which was lying next to him when he dived, and then headed for the rear of the tractor. He looked back to see a shadow coming around the corner. Ramirez turned and pulled the trigger just as he saw the man in his sights. The soldier flew a few feet back, and more gun fire tore through the tractor. Ramirez kept his head down as he turned around to the rear of the tractor. He looked to the left of the tractor; he was safe for now, as hay bales kept him concealed. He moved against the right side of the tractor and got on the ground. He inched slowly to the left and reached out for his M4, which also lying on the ground. His focus regained once he saw a man bending down to see under the tractor. Ramirez quickly raised his shotgun as soon as he saw the soldiers arm. He pulled the trigger and the blast echoed through the air. The soldiers arm flew off. Ramirez pulled the trigger again, this time hitting him in his neck and shoulder. Ramirez reached over and grabbed his M4 and rolled quickly to the right; getting out in time before it was hoarded with gunfire. He got up and started to run past the hay bales which also were being shot through. Ramirez was almost towards the end before he was struck in the leg with a bullet. He twisted and was falling, before he landed though, another bullet struck his side. Ramirez grunted in pain and laid there for awhile. He never thought it would end here. He wouldn't let it. He rolled onto his non wounded side, grabbed his M4, and began to crawl towards the end of the hay bales.

Ramirez looked behind him to see a soldier appear from around the tractor. Ramirez quickly got onto his back, raised his M4 and fired at the assailant. The soldier went down quickly. Ramirez continued going forward, more gun fire erupted, and more bullets tore through the hay. Ramirez was lucky that none of the bullets went as low as he was, or he'd be as good as dead. He got to the end of the hay bale and started to crawl around the corner. He stopped and began to get himself up by getting support from the hay. The pain shot up his leg, through his side, and all over his shoulder. He tried not to cry out. Ramirez peeked around the corner and saw the soldiers starting to move on the other end. Ramirez limped around the corner more, and brought his rifle up to his shoulder. His left arm was in to much pain to lift, so he held it a lot tighter to his shoulder and stood firm against the hay bale.

Ramirez aimed at the soldiers and pulled the trigger. Some of the soldiers went down quick, others were hit and the ones that weren't harmed turned their attention to him and started firing. He turned back around the hay bale and slid down so the bullets wouldn't hit him. He pressed the magazine release, and reached for another one. There were none left. He sighed and threw his gun to the side and pulled out his USP from his leg holster. He then turned around the corner and started firing at the soldiers. Ramirez hit one soldier in the upper chest, another soldier in the jugular, and the last soldier in the pelvis. He wanted to make sure they were dead. He reached behind his tactical vest and pulled out another M67. His pulled the pin with his mouth and threw it as close as he could to the group of bodies. The grenade exploded, leaving behind pieces of skin, blood, organs and other organic material from the human body.

Ramirez picked himself up and began limping towards the west, where the sun was setting. As he got on the road he looked back once more. That's when he noticed it. He saw them on the hills. They were just standing there, watching, waiting quietly. They didn't chase him. They just stood there. He wondered why, he thought maybe they were learning. It didn't matter him, mankind was still the worse monster. He turned away and continued limping down the road.