THE MONSTERS WITHIN

I twisted the key in the lock frantically, my fingers constantly slipping off of the ribbed metal. Muttering expletives, tears begin to sting my eyes and cloud my vision. The noises and movement around me soon became one big blur of chaos. I desperately put all my might into this and I finally swung the door open of the old, rusty pickup and flung my bag onto the passenger seat as I hopped in after it. I slammed the door shut, crying hard now. The dawn light progressively faded away from inside the car as more and more bodies closed in and covered the glass around me. I blinked the tears away, watching the swarming commotion. I was frozen with fear and exhaustion. Dozens of gruesome faces peered into the windows, their teeth gnawing grossly and their hands pounding at the frame of my truck. I finally shook myself out of it and slipped my key into the ignition. To add to my frustration, the damn thing wouldn't start. I was full on sobbing now as I tried and tried again. This must be it then. What else is there for me to do? Ever since this whole thing started, my hope has been slipping away from me at a rapid rate. I had to be determined. I had to be determined for those who can't anymore. With a little bit of faith and a couple dozen tries, over and over again, the engine finally began to roar. I cried happy tears for a moment, breathlessly sighing. I reached a hand up and wiped the sweat away from above my brows. "Brilliant," I whispered to myself, not really sure of what I was feeling.

I floored it. Over mounds of the undead dead, I progressively made my way, crushing bodies one after another. One of the most terrible sounds swam through the area of my car, sending shivers up my spine. After several moments of giving every ounce of strength I could muster, I finally cut through the crowd of vile looking bodies. I don't know where I was going but I had to get out of there and I had to get out of there fast. Maybe I'll find somewhere safe to stay the night. That's a joke actually, because nowhere could be considered that anymore. I drove for what seemed like hours until finding my gas meter just barely skirting 'empty.' I made my way to what looked like a heavy traffic blockage, or what would have been. I swerved through sets of cars and stopped. I looked around out my windows, and seeing most of the coast clear, I stopped my truck and hopped out. I grabbed the empty gas tank and tube out of the back and began siphoning gas from the nearby cars to my own. I heard distant shouts and began to get nervous. I picked up the pace and finally had enough gas to get going again.

I drove into a nearby neighborhood that evening. The area looked mostly deserted with the occasional straggling zombie. I found a small house and parked outside. I concealed most of my items inside a compartment within my truck and hopped out. Bearing my knife, I walked up to the door and wiggled the handle. It was open, thank God. I crept slowly and cautiously down the halls and into each of the rooms. I saw nothing, leading me to believe faith was on my side that evening. I locked myself up in what looked like a guest bedroom. It looked almost untouched, however, I found myself checking around multiple times constantly. I slept uneasy that night, awoken too many times by my unsettled conscience. Well, at least I had got a good two or three hours in, I was grateful for whatever I could get these days.

The morning light danced through the curtain-less window across the room. I turned over and grunted, my muscles sore from the feats of yesterday. I kept my eyes shut for many moments, just resting. Another day. I have lived to greet another day. I couldn't differentiate if that was a good or bad thing anymore. This is reality however, those who want to survive must adapt. I just have nothing to survive for. As I thought harder, memories that have carved themselves into my brain had started to flood throughout my mind again.

"This is so scary," my mom's nervous voice crept into the living room behind me. "It seems to have begun early within the last week...," the newscaster spoke, "we don't know exactly what is going on, but what we do know is that it is spreading like wildfire…" My stomach flipped every time the young brunette-haired man spoke on the flashing screen. I fiddled with the hem on my shirt nervously, picking at the seam. "Scientists are scrambling for a cure, but have not obtained any type of lead just yet. As terrifying as this is, we request that everyone must stay away from the sick and infected-," and with that the T.V. clicked off. "Atticus!" my mother scolded at my older brother sitting on the recliner near the far wall of the room. "What? All you guys are doing is scaring yourselves to death! We will be okay," he said, raising his hands defensively.

I felt my heart sink as I replayed his words and a sudden jab of anger shook through me. I jumped out of the bed and to my feet, "Okay!? Atticus, that's what you said! You ignorant motherfucker. The last thing that anything will ever be is okay! You fucking left me here to die by myself!" I shouted into the empty bedroom. The noise only bounced off of the empty walls and back to me. Heavy tears brimmed my eyes when only silence followed the bitter noise of my words. "I'm sorry," I said to no one again. Maybe, deep down inside, I was hoping that someone would hear. The tears started pouring down my dirty cheeks again as I collapsed to the creaky wooden floor, clutching my knees to my chest. This is worse than the dead creeping around outside. I have never felt so alone in my entire life.