Disclaimer: I am not Juan Carlos Fresnadillo (director of 28 Weeks Later) and so therefore I do not own his works. What I add into the story is mine (example: characters, plot, etc.) but the original themes, ideas, plots, characters, etc. are solely the works of this awesome, famous person and his associates.
Author's Note: My first ever FanFic published on here, this piece was inspired by a music exercise during English class. We were to listen to forty minutes of some of the most chilling tracks around and write a story based on the topic of 'Dystopia', prompted through how we reacted emotionally to the music. (I will admit 28 Weeks Later also inspired me). Here is the finished result. Enjoy!
Walk In Darkness
Another growl echoed from outside, another dint revealed itself in the metal barricade. I looked down to the rifle in my hands, and pulled back the lever. There were only two bullets left.
"Only two?" Seth murmured weakly, his voice breaking, and sank down onto his knees. I glanced back to him, and my heart panged. The look of utter fear and despair in his eyes seeped out through his expression. There was no hope, no faith, no happiness...How could there be, in a world like this?
Another bang and he flinched, lifting his head. His blue eyes were bloodshot and he wiped the tears away with a grimy sleeve, which smudged dirt across his cheekbone. His black hair was long and greasy, his frame scrawny. He looked down at himself and gave a short, desperate cry before crumpling on the floor. He began shivering, his teeth rattling as he lay there, iced to the bone.
There was no warmth in this shed. It was so hollow and vast and dark I doubt even God could find us. It was scary sometimes, being trapped inside such a big, sinister empty space, with Infected crowding around the outside, and only a thick wall of sheeted metal between us and Them.
I'm pretty sure nothing will ever make me feel safe anymore, but at least we can survive here. For now.
But our food is growing scarce, and we have nothing left but poles that hold up the roof and a car that's empty of fuel.
It's the only place we have to sleep. The cement flooring is too hard and cold for a mattress.
"Why did this have to happen to us?" Seth whispered, watching me staring at my rifle with big blue eyes, the kind of eyes that should have held innocence. Instead, they held nothing but terror.
It began two years ago, when a Virus broke out. The doctors called it the Rage Virus, and only a few weeks after it escaped, it was declared an Epidemic. Being the strange, incurable disease that it was, it took little time to spread across the countryside and affect cities. It bred through Infected blood or saliva coming into contact with the mouth or wounds. It turned the host violent and sadistic, blood-thirsty even. Some victims were simply bitten, others were eaten alive. Now there were only a few survivors, and they were in hiding like us.
Not long after, the Infected had found our little country town and us. They took our mother, killed our father, and so Seth and I had to run.
"Come on," I whispered, standing and reaching down to my brother. We only ever spoke in hushed voices these days, afraid that the Infected would find us.
Another human print threw itself against the wall.
It seems like they already had.
We shuffled past the old car whose doors were thrown open and its interior so dark you could see nothing inside. It would be so easy for a beast to crouch down in its confines and wait. I could just imagine it lurching itself out from the darkness and tackling us to the ground...
My skin prickled and I shivered, walking to the wall farthest from the Infected trying to break in.
"What are we going to do?" Seth whispered, his voice cracking as he crouched down in the shadows with me behind a thick pole. The structure used for any major building had a back and two sides, so I gently pushed Seth into its C-shaped walls and squatted before him, providing for him another barrier. He fit perfectly into the small space, with just enough room for me.
He curled up in there silently and waited, hugging his knees to his chest. I shifted on my haunches and picked the grit out of the grooves in my gun, trying to drown out the constant hollow pounding as the Infected tried to break down the walls. They were hungry.
"Can't they just go away?" I glanced down to Seth. He was sobbing silently, and his voice shook as he spoke. He sniffled and wiped his nose.
"But that would mean that life is too easy," I muttered bitterly, "And God doesn't want that." He looked up at me, his dark brows creasing. "Do you know the story behind this?"
"What do you mean?"
"I mean the Infected," I gestured around me with an outstretched arm. He shook his head. "Some believe it was God. You know, his way of punishment, the Last Judgement he promised, and so those Infected are damned to Hell. That kind of thing." I paused. "Others believe it was the result of the workings of a group of sadistic scientists. Some even believe it was because of over-pollution."
"What do you believe?" he asked, tucking himself away even more as the bangs and snarls grew louder, more agitated.
I shrugged, "I don't know what to believe anymore."
Even though we both knew the Infected had heard us, and knew we were here, we still talked quietly.
"But...God wouldn't do something like this," Seth said, almost pleadingly, as if he were proving it to himself as much as to me. "He'd make it painless and quick."
"Make what painless and quick?"
"The Last Judgement. Besides, he wants to save the good people. He wouldn't let this happen to the believers."
I smiled wistfully. "I'm not so sure there's such a thing as Good and Bad in the world anymore, Seth."
"But there has to be!" he wailed, slapping a hand to his mouth as his voice ricocheted loudly off the shed walls.
Unexpectedly, as the sound died away the Infected stopped their violent and bloodthirsty actions, and became quiet.
We shared a look. The silence was tense.
"...Do you think they're gone?" he whispered, so quietly I had trouble hearing him. I shook my head. His face fell.
"They wouldn't give up like this if they'd heard us." I began to stand, slowly unfolding my legs, and peered around the pole.
The shed was still and silent. I could see nothing through the darkness, and it unnerved me.
"Cale–"
A loud, aggravated snarl tore through the night air, and something heavy was thrown against the metal wall. The shed shook and groaned, and the sound of shredding metal was followed by a horrible, nervous pause.
I stepped back behind the pole, and squeezed in beside Seth. The three walls made me feel better, somewhat, and I sunk down onto my heels, staring at the shadows opposite.
The whole shed seemed to shake as body after body threw itself against our large barricade.
Something squealed.
I leant down and pressed my lips to Seth's ear. "Whatever you do," I whispered. "Don't scream." He nodded silently, and as I straightened, the high-pitched screech of tearing metal ripped through my gut like razors.
Deformed hands bent the lacerated metal inwards.
Seth whimpered quietly and curled into my side.
With a hollow click, I flicked the safety off my rifle, seated its butt between my legs, and leant my head back against the pole.
And in the next moment, They tore through.
Up until now, my heart had been beating fairly fast, and I was sure it couldn't go any faster.
But it did.
As bare skin slapped against hard cement, my breathing became shallow, and I sensed Seth cover his ears with his fists beside me. I quietly picked my rifle up off the floor and grimaced.
Two bullets weren't enough to save us.
I began to count the footsteps. One...Two...Three...Four...
There were so many, or that's what it felt like. After one Infected tore through into the shed, another was caught shoving itself through. Growl after growl reverberated behind us, and the occasional snarls and hisses of fighting Infected grumbled overtop.
I was hyperaware of a certain pair of feet thumping close behind us, only the pole between us and It. Silently, I hooked an arm around Seth's shoulders and placed my hand to his mouth. He rested his head against my side and became deadly still.
A figure sauntered past on my left, and Seth caught his breath on my right. I followed it with wide eyes. It was quiet, its feet slapping softly over the cement, and its growls were feminine.
If growls could ever be feminine.
Its shape, too, was feminine. It had narrow shoulders and wide hips, an accented curve from its last rib down to its waist, and long, strong legs. I could only see its back, but its clothes were still bloody and torn, half the length of its pants having been shredded away. Its skin was pale, almost glowing in the darkness, smudged with filth. Atop its head was a thick cover of long, fiery red hair.
If it had been clean, I may have seen the beauty about her.
As if sensing us watching, it spun around. For a minute, all I saw was its eyes – murky pools of total crimson darkness. And then its teeth – tinged red with the blood and flesh of its diet. And then it's pale, dirty face, all angles and hidden elegance. Its features contorted, its cracked lips bled.
Then it growled, and charged.
I flew to my feet, aiming the rifle. As it neared, I swung my gun up high and brought it down heavily on the Infected's head. Its eyes rolled backward, it convulsed once, and fell with a low gargle to the hard floor.
I couldn't muster up the courage to peek around the pole, but it seemed like none of the other Infected had heard us. It had been swift and silent.
Seth tugged on my sleeve, and I looked down. He pointed to the corner of his mouth, and before he could do anything else my tongue lashed out and licked at something warm and moist. I frowned. Seth's face was horrified.
I reached up, hand shaking, and wiped at my face. I pulled my fingers back.
Blood.
My stomach tightened.
It had to be my blood. It couldn't be Infected. If it was...
I hunched over, gasping quietly, and hugged myself. My gun fell to the floor.
Seth's little hands caressed my face as he warily tilted my chin up toward him. I stared fearfully at him, and even through the darkness, he peered urgently into my eyes, pulling up my lids with his fingers to get a better look, trying to spot any dots of crimson, any signs that I was Turning.
His face showed everything, then. His eyes widened, his mouth dropped, and his expression twisted into one of sadness, despair and terror. As I watched, he stumbled back, out into the open view of other Infected, although he was slightly hidden by the darkness of the shed.
"Seth–" but my voice was cut off with a loud snarl, and I choked on my words, as if my tongue couldn't remember the English language anymore. I coughed and wheezed and something warm trickled down my chin and onto the floor. I looked down. It was more blood. But it was my blood.
"No!" I heard him whisper, and his voice hurt me, deep down.
But something hurt more than that. Something that started in my heart, like a bubble, and expanded as it travelled through my veins. I cried out as it reached my head and exploded, an agonising headache gripping me. My legs buckled and I fell to the ground, my vision growing foggy, the pain sending me insane.
Seth moved.
Uncharacteristically, I threw my head up and snarled at him, dragging myself into a crouch. He recoiled in horror. I was oddly amused by his fear, but the pain inside my head made everything hazy, and he seemed like the only stable thing left.
I needed some of his stableness.
I cocked my head to the side, a wild grin flashing across my face. He screamed. The sound hurt my ears, and I launched at him, sinking my teeth into his throat.
Author's Note: Thank you so much for reading my story, please review! :)
~Shakaka