Updated note 9/20/2015: For any fans remaining and those just joining in, I have decided to give this story a polish up edit as I prepare to finally post new chapters for the story. I've had a lot on my plate for the last year with graduating college and trying to join a graduate school, so story writing has taken a back seat. Rest assured, however, that this has not been too far in the back of my mind. The plot is all largely mapped out in my head, so now it's just a matter of putting it onto print. So, once again, it's time to spin another yarn about good ole boy Clay McKinley and his life of service...
...
Hello there people. I am still fairly new to this whole FanFiction malarkey, but I have been having a blast so far with my first FanFiction, the Halo/Mass Effect crossover Last of an Ancient Breed, that I want to expand into other categories. If you want to check out that story, go to my profile or search the crossover section.
We're not here to discuss that though. We're here for The Walking Dead. Now, this character is from a Walking Dead Role Play site that is now sadly defunct. However, seeing how much I enjoyed writing the character and how much fun it was to bounce off the other authors' characters, I decided to tell the story we created through this new one. It will be modified from its original version to fit a smoother narrative and focus the action more, but at its core it is largely the same. Not that anyone can notice that outside of the authors who worked on it!
And I am totally happy for reviews and comments. I know I can always improve so I am open to suggestions for improvement.
So without further ado, here is the story of Clay McKinley and his Life of Service...
...
Clay McKinley's quiet footsteps broke the silence lingering over Atlanta's abandoned streets. In only three months, the outbreak had turned this once bustling city into a colossal ghost town. Various types of cars were scattered across the streets, some abandoned by people not wanting to wait and some from crashing into whatever or whoever was in the way. Whatever windows weren't shattered to pieces had been long boarded up or barricaded by people who may or may not still be hiding. Debris and garbage littered the streets in all shapes and sizes, further the site of general ruin throughout the city. It was a strange and sad sight to behold.
Then again, Clay figured he was just as strange a sight. A young, muscular twenty-two year old dressed in torn tan khakis, a faded white shirt and dress shoes held together by duct tape? Not exactly a regular occurrence, even if there wasn't an outbreak. Things had been rough since he fled Atlanta, which was also evident by the barely holding up backpack slung over his right shoulder and his torn lightweight winter coat he had...found. The final detail adding to his appearance was his tie currently wrapped around his left hand, with dried blood sticking it to his skin. Again, not your usual sight.
Light flickered in Clay's eyes as dawn broke in the distance, prompting him to stifle an incoming yawn. He couldn't believe that he had walked all night to get here. He couldn't believe he came back here at all. It was only yesterday that he had a group he thought he could depend on. He had counted on them to all work together and watch out for one another. For them to treat him like they did...
He pushed it out of his mind as he rubbed his hands together. Whatever happened had happened. He was alone now. He was used to that, even if it wasn't by choice. What he wasn't used to was being unprepared for the fast approaching winter. Thinking warm thoughts would only last him so long until he found some more supplies. And there was only one place he could think of that wasn't salvaged.
He mentally retraced his steps from the last time he had walked these streets. A left turn at the corner meat market, three blocks down past the Methodist church, a right turn past...the..um...
Clay sighed. He had forgotten more than he realized. Still, he had to try. He continued to walk on autopilot as he glanced down at his empty shift pocket. It was a lot easier back then..
….
THREE MONTHS EARLIER
"Keep up, Elder!"
Clay looked up to see Elder Alex Smith waving for him to pick up the pace. He must have been lost in thought again. One wouldn't think that a name badge could do that. He quickly ran up to close the gap between them, reflecting on what he had been thinking. It was still hard to believe he was here. A month ago, he was just a guy working at a construction site in St. George, Utah. Now, walking side by side with his very own senior companion, he was serving as a missionary for The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints
He still remembered reading the call to Atlanta, Georgia like it was yesterday, with his mom, Uncle Hyrum and the rest of his family nearly suffocating him with their hugs at the announcement party. His memories of the event outside of that were hazy outside of his emotions, which were a combination of surprise, shock, amazement...and intense fear.
He never claimed to be the best Mormon in the world. Not that he was a bad person, as he lived all the commandments and tried to be nice like he should. He just never thought of himself as being as "Mormon" as other people he knew. They all seemed to know more about scriptures than him, they attended church more often than he ever did and they all seemed to know each other better than they ever knew him. If he could barely relate to people in his own congregation, what good would he do spending two years sharing the Gospel to strangers?
Nevertheless, he went through with it and now, following some prep time at the missionary training center, he was a certified missionary wandering the cities of Georgia. He had to imagine that it wasn't easy for Elder Smith to train a "greenie" like him. Clay didn't want to make it hard for him, but he was just...anxious. It wasn't about anything in particular even.
"Stare at that thing too long and you'll go blind," Elder Smith teased.
Clay didn't even realize he had been staring at his badge again. Man, it was hypnotic or something! He quickly turned to Elder Smith.
"Oh, ha...yeah, sorry about that," he chuckled weakly.
"Ah, it's alright," Elder Smith replied cricking his neck. "You're still in that starry eyed phase. Everything's brand spanking new and the world is your oyster. Got to be careful though. You'll miss the pearls if you aren't looking."
"I guess so," Clay replied putting his hands in his pockets.
"So anyway, we were talking about your family, right?"
"Uh...oh yeah. Um, not much to say. I have a mom, my sister Jessica and my brother David. We're close with my Uncle Hyrum and his family too."
"So your dad's not in the picture?"
"...no."
"Divorce?"
Clay hesitated for a moment. He wasn't keen on people prying on his business, but he decided to be honest and nodded.
"Recent?"
"No. A while ago."
"Are you still close with him?"
Clay didn't reply.
"Well, maybe the mission will be good for that," Elder Smith said with a shrug. "People don't realize what they have until it's gone."
"I guess..." Clay replied as he occupied his thoughts with the schedule. They had a lesson planned with the Tyler family that after and a dinner appointment with Brother Schneider right after, but Elder Smith wanted to do some street contacting first to find new people for the teaching pool. Though Clay suspected that this little chit chat might have been the ulterior motive for being out here.
"You ok, bud?"
Clay quickly stared at his feet. He was bad at hiding emotions when he was thinking like that.
"Sorry," Elder Smith said. "I didn't mean to make things awkward."
"It's ok," Clay lied as he looked back up down the street. Ahead of them, there were a lot of people walking and running to different places. They seemed a little too hurried for this hour of the day though...
"It's not," Elder Smith replied.
"Hm?"
"It's not ok. I tried to force that stuff out of you. It's not a good example for a senior missionary."
"It's fine. I just...well, um, what about your family?"
"I already told you what they do, silly."
"Oh right..."
Elder Smith chuckled and pat Clay on the back. "You're a good kid, Elder."
"Really?"
"Yeah. Way cooler than the other greenies you came with."
"Nah. They're...cooler guys," Clay said mentally omitting 'some of them' from that sentence. To be fair, some of the greenies were pretty obnoxious. They were part of that whole 'I'm the greatest missionary in the world and you need to know it' mentality that bugged him. They probably were better missionaries than him, but humble bragging seemed counter productive to the work. He didn't want to speak bad about them though...out loud. That would be bad form for a missionary.
"So modest," Elder smith teased. "That's why they paired us up."
Clay smiled meekly and rubbed his arm as he looked back to the side. The good feeling he was starting to get felt muddled now as he saw families from nearby houses carry out luggage and supplies out to their cars. Some of the kids watched nervously from their car seats while others protested whatever the parents were doing. It wasn't just a select group either, as other people were pulling out of their driveways and clogging the streets in the distance. A shiver ran down his spine for a moment.
"So are you going to stop anyone?" Elder Smith asked bringing Clay's attention back.
"Hm?"
"You haven't tried to talk to a single person this whole time."
"Oh..." He replied, though he did notice there wasn't a single person walking the street they were on. "Sorry...I, uh, guess I'm nervous."
"About what?"
"Well, um...I don't know. Just..." He said making an encompassing motion with his arms. "..all of this."
"Like 'all of this?'" Elder Smith replied mimicking the motion between the two of them. "Or 'all of this?'" He added motioning to all around them.
"Um...both, I guess."
"Well we'll work on 'this,'" Elder Smith replied motioning to the two of them. "As for the bigger 'this,' I don't blame you. You're spending two years preaching in the Bible belt. That's a special kind of challenge all in itself."
Clay glanced off to the side again to see more people panicking and fleeing the scene ahead of them. Some people had even abandoned their cars and were carrying what they could as they ran. Multiple police sirens could be heard in the distance too! He wondered if Elder Smith had noticed this.
"I couldn't tell you how many 'Bible bashes' I got into when I started," Elder Smith continued. "I'm telling you, people down in the South can get nasty when it comes to talking about Jesus. Some days I felt I would never talk to a single person for the rest of my mission."
"So how did you overcome it?" Clay asked nervously as he tried to pay attention to both situations going on at once.
"Well...I realized it was silly to worry. Life happens. Sometimes we fail and sometimes we succeed. You roll with what you're given, put some faith in God and hope for the best. No one's a 'super missionary' their first month out. All it takes is time and-"
Right at that moment, three police cars and a S.W.A.T. van rushed past them and nearly knocking them off their feet. Clay looked up to also see a couple helicopters fly overhead into the heart of the city. If anything was to prove a bigger warning sign that that, Clay didn't know what it would be.
"Ok, has all of this been bothering you too?" Elder Smith asked concerned.
So he had been paying attention! Before Clay could respond, a loud commotion was heard in the distance. It was faint at first, kind of like shouts at a far away baseball field. Then it grew louder. Then there was gunfire. Then it turned to a cacophony of screams. Whatever was happening, it was coming their way.
Clay nervously looked to Elder Smith, who looked equally anxious as a cold sweat formed on his brow. Clay had never seen him like that, even on their roughest days.
"Um..." Elder Smith stammered as he pointed to a nearby street. "Maybe we should cut across this way."
Clay offered no protest as they quickly power walked down that street. The screaming was getting louder now as some truly disturbing noises joined the crowd. It sounded like...moaning? Something was very wrong but they weren't going to stop to find out as they rounded a corner...
...only to bump into a group of heavily armed soldiers and policemen.
"Hey!" The soldier they bumped into shouted pointing his gun at the missionaries, freezing them in a panic as they lifted their hands up.
"Stand down, Beckett!" Another soldier behind him shouted. "They're not infected!"
Beckett lowered his weapon and pointed at the two of them. "This area's not safe! You need to get to the evac zones now!"
"Evac zones?" Elder Smith asked with a quivering breath. "What's going on?"
"I said move it! This place is-"
Just then, a large mass of people arrived from down a nearby street directly towards their position. Clay could instantly see something was wrong. These people were acting more than just bizarre. Their skin was clammy, their limbs were bloodied and they moved with an eerie twitching shuffling motion. They snarled and moaned as they spotted the group and quickened their shuffle. Were they sick? Possessed?
"Here they come!"
"Damn it!"
"Shit!"
"Kill them!"
The soldiers and cops fired at the group, spraying blood and tearing flesh as a couple of the gray people fell to the ground. Yet the rest of them kept coming, completely nonplussed by the bullet holes in vital organs. Clay's mouth was now fully agape as he turned to Elder Smith, who had the exact same reaction.
"Beckett, get them out of here," the other soldier from before ordered as they continued firing.
"Yes sir!" Beckett replied motioning the two of them to follow. The missionaries snapped from their shock and followed as they ran from the scene. As they ran, Clay couldn't help but look back for just a moment. The crowd of gray people had grown larger now and had almost completely closed the gap between their assailants. The soldiers and cops began to retreat, but a few of them overwhelmed by the crow...and were torn apart limb by limb!
Clay turned back ahead now as he started to run even faster to keep up with the others. They were definitely not seeing the Tylers or Brother Schneider today!
...
Clay groaned as he peeked out from the nearby alley. To no surprise, the street ahead was flooded with the monsters. He had never gotten over how freaky their gray rotting flesh, mangled limbs, chewed off lips and ratty clothing were. It was hard to believe they had just been normal people once. People just trying to make a living like anyone else. Now they roamed the streets that soulless, hungry look in their eyes for any flesh to eat.
They proved a worrying roadblock to Clay's objective. Past the hoard of monsters, a lone apartment complex stood seemingly unscathed from the city's decay. He didn't know if the monsters had made it inside, but he did know that there was a certain apartment he had spent a month living in just waiting for him. An apartment that had packaged and canned food, fresh clothes and probably everything else Clay needed before doing whatever else was next. If only God had seen it fit to make this objective easier for him...
He surveyed the area as best as he could from his position. There were too many monsters out in the open for him to just make a run for it, so he would have to find something to distract them. The last group he was in, with people who shall not be named, had discovered that the monsters were drawn to loud sounds and fresh meat. Since he didn't have any meat on him, he had to find something particularly noisy. So far, however, all he saw was some wrecked cars, scattered garbage and a lot of unhelpful crap that...
...suddenly wasn't relevant as he spotted what he was looking for. One of the cars in the distance hadn't been crashed or mangled and was actually locked! If he could get something heavy through one of the windows...
He slid off his backpack and rifled through his stuff. He had his combined scriptures, two water bottles, construction gloves, a length of rope, his apartment key ring, a spare t-shirt...and some other things that also would not help. He sighed realizing it was foolish to assume something heavy would magically appear.
Then he ate his words as he looked to his right. Behind a discarded cardboard box nearby, he spotted a brick just sitting by itself!
"Thanks," he muttered looking upwards to give credit where it was due before reaching over and picking the brick up. It was sturdy enough that it wouldn't shattered if he threw it just right. Unless that car had bullet proof glass of course...
He positioned himself at the corner and exhaled loudly to himself as he tried to work up his nerves. He hadn't practiced his aim for a while, so he could just as likely miss if he was just that much off. What's more, even if he did hit it, the alarm was going to draw a lot more monsters than just the ones around him. He would have to wait for the right opening, run to the door, unlock it and barricade it in probably a matter of minutes.
No pressure, right? Clay hated that phrase, as pressure was not his strong suit.
"Please don't miss," he whispered gripping the brick and cocking his arm back. "Please don't miss. Please don't miss."
With a small prayer in his heart to go off of, he stepped out for just a moment and hurled the brick as hard as he could.
The windshield broke with a satisfying crunch and the car's alarm blared loudly. The monsters nearby took a moment to register this new sound before shuffling to it in mass. The ones closest smeared their bloodied hands along its sides and windows, while the rest continued to push against the ones in front of them as if not fully aware of their presence. Out of the corner of his eyes, Clay noticed that more of the monsters started to come out of the wood works to investigate the noise too.
He kept his eyes open as he watched the monsters continue to surround the car, waiting for an opening good enough to run. It turned out to be longer than he expected, as more and more came out undeterred by the lack of success from the monsters ahead of them. Clay sighed as he waited. When there wasn't an obvious target, these things moved like molasses.
Suddenly, an opening presented itself. Clay quickly checked down the street to make sure it was not a fluke. Sure enough, there was a gap big enough now that he could seemingly run unmolested. As the other monsters continued to claw at the car, Clay took a deep breath and practically got into an Olympic runner stance as his eyes trained on the door. He just needed to get inside and it would be better. Should be easy as that.
Deciding the time was right, Clay bolted from his hiding spot to the complex. He spotted the stoop leading to the front door and was nearly off of the street...
...when he suddenly tripped and fell flat onto the sidewalk. He was lucky not to smash his teeth against it, but he got himself a nice bruise on his cheek and the cut on his hand reacted sharply to the pressure. He looked down to his feet and saw the cause of his stumble. The tape on one of his shoes had given out and the sole was dangling in the air barely holding on. That was not good.
Worse, two of the monsters from the group had heard this and were now shuffling towards his direction.
Crap!
He quickly scrambled to his feet, kicking the bad shoe off his foot and ran to the door. This proved harder than expected as he came upon some broken class on the ground, which gave the monster an extra few seconds to catch up as he carefully walked over it with his one good foot.
As the monsters closed the gap between them and him, Clay pulled out his key ring from the backpack and hurriedly thumbed through for the right key as he ascended the stoop. They were practically breathing down his neck now, snapping their jaws in anticipation as they zeroed in on him with that savage glare. At the last possible moment, Clay found the key and jammed it into the lock. A quick turn was responded with a satisfying click as he grabbed the knob to open the door.
Only to find that it was locked separately.
Double crap!
Clay turned to see one of the monsters lunge right at him. He screamed as he grabbed its outreached arms and struggled against it. Thinking quickly before the other one could overwhelm him, Clay kicked hard into the first monster's gut. It stumbled down the steps, swiping the other monster's legs out from underneath. Both of them tumbled back onto the sidewalk, with at least one of their limbs bending until a loud crunch from its bone was heard. Clay maybe bought himself a couple of seconds as he thumbed through the key ring again to look for the knob's key. No one ever locked that knob before now, so he couldn't remember which key opened it!
The monsters slowly got back to their feet as a few more noticed the commotion. Clay panicked as he continued his search. Finally, he reached a key that seemed to match the shape of the lock. The first two monsters ascended the steps again, snarling loudly as they swiped their arms towards him. Clay once again jammed the key into the knob's slow, hoping he picked the right one, and turned.
It worked! He flung the door open, bolted inside and slammed the door right into one of the monster's face knocking it back into the slowly growing group following him. Clay locked the door completely as fists started banging against it. He had to think fast, as the door itself wouldn't hold them alone. A quick scan of the area revealed...a sofa blocking the stairway? Someone must have been using it earlier, but this would be more important! He grabbed onto one side and strained as he pulled it down the steps to the main floor.
The banging outside was getting louder. Clay strained as he moved the surprisingly heavy couch inch by inch. This had better work, he thought to himself as he used all his might to push it against the door and stepped back. It didn't stop the banging, but the door moved less with each fist that pounded against it. So they weren't going to get in this time!
He sighed and leaned himself against a wall to catch his breath. That was yet another close call out of too many in the last few days. He began sliding down the wall until he sat directly onto the floor. It felt strange to be sitting again. He had been walking and creeping around for hours, which as apparent from the aching feeling in his legs. For the first time in months, he had a feeling that resembled the feeling of returning home.
After catching his breath, he looked out towards the main floor. Dust had long settled across the wooden floors, furniture and decorations, adding a dreary vibe to a once nice looking establishment. Not a sound was stirred anywhere, likely meaning there was no one else left hiding here. It was disheartening to see but he had to keep pushing on. What he was looking for was another four flights up.
Clay eventually got to his feet and climbed up the stairs. Each step weighed on his weary legs, but he persevered up floor after floor of lonely silence, making sure to double check each floor for monsters before continuing. Eventually, he made it to the top floor...
...only to see something dart past him. He jumped and caught onto the railing before realizing it was just a mouse. He let out an exhale of frustration. Did he seriously almost fall down a flight of steps because of a mouse? He had been more jumpy than ever. At least he didn't have to worry about undead mice. He stood back up and looked out the exit of the stairwell leading to his floor.
"Hello?" He said in a loud whisper as he cupped his hands around his mouth. There was no response, which wasn't a sign everything was good but also meant there was nothing inherently bad. He slowly walked to his apartment door, his eyes drying around for any surprises...and then stopped cold.
Right in front of his door was a body with a bloody stump where the head used to be. Dried bone, blood and brain matter was splattered and caked onto nearly every inch of the door, almost like a web. One of the corpse's hands continued to grip tightly on a double barreled shotgun, with a fine ring of gunpowder still coating the nozzle. It was a sight that would make Clay lose his lunch immediately if he had any food inside of him. He held a hand to his mouth and nose as he looked down and noticed the clothes the corpse was wearing. That's when he realized what he was looking at.
It was his landlord...
…
"EVERYONE PROCEED FORWARD! DO NOT STAY WITH YOUR VEHICLES! ONLY CARRY WHAT YOU CAN! WOMEN AND CHILDREN-"
The cop standing on his car continued to shout through the car's megaphone as swarms of people crowded between abandoned and occupied vehicles alike to escape the city. It was a sight of absolute chaos. People dragged their kids, luggage and anything else they deemed necessary as they pushed and shoved one another. Car horns blared in every direction, deafening some people and causing confusion in others as they tried to climb over them to find openings. Soldiers, policemen, S.W.A.T. units and local volunteers scrambled to maintain some semblance of order, moving groups along as they tried to locate stragglers and keep an eye out for the cannibals.
Clay's nerves were completely frazzled now as he followed Elder Smith and Beckett directly into the chaos. More people flooded in behind them, boxing them in with no choice but to push forward. Not that Clay had any intention of turning around. After seeing what happened to those other soldiers, he wanted to be as far away from the cannibals as possible.
Just then, however, he felt a hand grab onto his neck collar. He yelped as he turned and saw Elder Smith looking back towards the city. Beckett, oblivious to the situation, continued on without them until he disappeared within the sea of people.
"What are you doing?" Clay shouted in a panic. "We need to-"
"Shut up and look, Elder!" Elder Smith shouted back pointed back the way they came. Far behind the throngs of people, a lone woman crawled on the sidewalk. She sobbed loudly, bloody and mangled from likely being trampled by the crowd, as she stubbornly wheeled a suitcase behind her. How Elder Smith was able to spot this one person among the other trampled corpses around her was beyond Clay's assumptions.
"We...we need to go get her," Elder Smith said trying to cover up his anxiety with an air of heroism. "She'll never make it in time."
"We'll never make it!" Clay said as they tried to withstand the people pushing against them.
"We have to try! Come on!" Elder Smith shouted as he dove into the crowd of people, his grip slipping off of Clay's collar in the process.
"Wait!" Clay shouted trying to push into the crowd as well, but by now the gap Elder Smith had found was closed and the crowds were pushing him back.
"You're going the wrong way!" One person shouted grabbing onto Clay's arm.
"Lemme go!" Clay shouted as he was pushed back further and further away from Elder Smith. "Elder! HELP!"
If Elder Smith had replied, Clay couldn't hear him. Clay's panic was rising now and the guy in front of him refused to let go of his arm. He asked the Lord for forgiveness before acting rashly.
"Get off!" Clay shouted flailing his arm around, slipping his arm out of the man's grip. Thankfully he didn't hurt the guy in the process but there was no time to waste. With his arm free, he did his best to more politely push and shove through the crowds to catch up to Elder Smith.
"ELDER!" Clay shouted as he used his large arms to part through the crowds. "ELDER!"
…
Clay pulled out his construction gloves from the bag and carefully put them on. He hadn't needed to use me much so far and he usually didn't want to. They were a mine to from his time on Uncle Hyrum's construction company, given by his uncle as a reminder to keep him close in his thoughts. He was sure his uncle would understand if he had a practical reason to use them now. Clay was not about to touch the blood caked doorknob with his bare hands. For all he knew, he could get infected just by touching the blood.
Clay held his breath as he tiptoed around the bloodiest areas and started to reach for the knob. Before he did, however, Clay spotted something else unusual. Taped onto the door, which meant it was also covered in blood, was a folded note note. Clay paused as he wondered what that was all about. Looking closer, he could make out the word 'elders' scribbled sloppily on the outside. Did the landlord leave a message? A warning? Some words of encouragement? Clay wouldn't be able to asked the corpse, so he pulled it off, scraping some of the blood off as he gagged from the corpse's stench, and read the inside.
ENJOY YOUR RESURRECTION, MORMONS - CONRAD
Clay frowned. Conrad was not the easiest guy to get along with but he had been mostly friendly with the missionaries to this point. They had always hoped that they would be able to convert him at some point, but it looked like that wouldn't happen in the life at least. Clay had to wonder when Conrad had lost hope...and why he decided to do so in front of their apartment door. To be fair, three months would weaken most people's resolve. Conrad was a Vietnam vet though, so he should have been tougher than that. Clay had no ground to criticize though. He likely would have died a long time ago.
Clay held onto the note as he reached for the knob and turned. The parts of Conrad still on it flaked and squished as he did so, making his stomach turn. To be fair, that likely meant no one had been in the apartment since Conrad killed himself, but it d idn't make this part any easier. Taking one last deep breath, Clay flung open the door and closed it behind him.
As he exhaled and looked up, he was greeted by an unusually pleasant sight. Everything in his apartment looked exactly as they had left it. The study table was still in the same spot, the sink still had the unwashed dishes from that morning's breakfast, the ironing board was still unfolded in the bedroom and Elder Smith's clothes were still in that unorganized mess he prided himself on. He didn't know if he should be relieved or not, but he settled for the optimistic approach.
He walked over to the bedroom and took a quick look around. All of his spare clothes, suitcases, personal items and other possessions were all accounted for. He sighed in relief as he decided to settle the first order of business...a cat nap. Setting the alarm on his wind up alarm clock, Clay spent the next hour in a blissful dreamless slumber. No worries crossed his mind, no monsters tread upon his thoughts and nothing seemed to exist in the world for just a fleeting moment...
...that seemed to end too soon as the clock rang loudly once again. He sighed as he sat up...and realized that the car alarm outside was dead now. That did not bode well for Clay, as that meant that not only were there likely more monsters outside than before but that he also didn't have a distraction to leave the apartment. That's what he got for enjoy a light nap apparently.
For the next ten minutes, Clay quickly went through the apartment scavenging whatever he needed for...well, whatever he planned to do next. He honestly hadn't thought this far ahead, mostly because he figured the apartment would be a dead end. Now that it wasn't, Clay had to improvise and, as his old drama teacher had told him before, he was not the best improviser in the world. Still, he continued with his duties.
Using his personal backpack to replace his faded work backpack he carried, Clay stuffed to the brim with whatever he could carry. Non perishable food, spare clothes, Elder Smith's sewing kit and anything he could find use in was thrown into the bag. Once it was packed completely, Clay quickly changed out of his old clothes and changed into his casual clothes he used on "Preparation Days" when he did laundry and grocery shopping. It was strange wearing jeans and a t-shirt again, especially a white one, but at least it was clean. He then put on his uncle's old leather jacket before, realizing that he suddenly had more places to put things in, he walked over to the study table to pick through anything else he could think of.
As he approached the table, he suddenly paused in mid step. It was hard to believe that it was three months ago that he had ate breakfast, studied scriptures and planned daily schedules here like there was no other care in the world. He remembered the discussions he had with Elder Smith over doctrine, their chit chats about home, their prayers for success those days and more. The nostalgia was refreshing, yet it also brought a wave of regret and pain.
Feeling overcome by these emotion so, he took a moment to sit in his old chair and zone out on those thoughts. As he did, the words in Conrad's note came across his mind again. Was Conrad right? Was this all part of the Lord's plan for the Resurrection? Did everyone miss something in the Bible and Book of Mormon that prophesied the manner as to how the dead would come back to life? Or was this all part of some perverse version of Judgment? Perhaps this was all some form of punishment for Clay and everyone around him for being awful people. Then again, what if it wasn't? What if-?
Clay shook his head and sighed. This line of thought was a rabbit hole too complicated for him to waste time with right now. He prepared to stand back up...
...but not before his eyes spotted something on the table. Everything else was exactly as they had left them before they left that day. Clay's photos from home were still in that one pocket flip binder, his unfinished letter home was still sitting there, the map of the county was folded off on the side, Elder Smith's journal was still sitting off to the side with the pair of novelty joke teeth he bought to "protect it" and everything else seemed normal.
There was one thing out of place though. Clay picked it up gently and held it in his hand as the memories came again...
….
"Excuse me! Sorry! Pardon! Please move! ELDER!"
After much effort, Clay managed to push his way through the crowd and find an exit. He heaved and rested his hands on his knees catch his breath before looking up to see Elder Smith helping the hurt woman to her feet. Clay stood up and prepared to run over...
...until he saw a horde of cannibals pour out from a nearby building. Clay froze as he saw Elder Smith spot this too, prompting him to kick the lady's suitcase out of her hands and try to carry her fireman style. Clay wanted to go over an help, but something weird was happening. A cold sweat developed around his neck, his legs went numb, his hands shook and he felt hs throat dry up as he watched the ever increasing horde chased after Elder Smith.
it only intensified as he saw something else happen. Around Elder Smith, the people who had been trampled in the crowds were getting back up, snarling and moaning like the horde behind them. One of them turned and spotted Elder Smith, lurching at him with its jaws agape.
"ELDER, LOOK OUT!" Clay shouted too late as the cannibal but down on Elder Smith's shoulder. His companion howled in pain as he dropped the woman and fought against the monster, who was pulling out a long bloody strip of muscle from Smith's shoulder with its teeth. The woman tumbled onto the ground and tried to crawl away quickly, but was quickly overwhelmed by other cannibals who rose from the trampled people. She futilely offered resistance before four of them swarmed over her, eliciting ear piercing shrieks as they ripped chunks out of her body.
Barely fighting off the other cannibal with a firm punch to its face, Elder Smith also fell to ground near where the woman was being eaten. Half his face was covered in his own blood now as he cringed and cowered. He lifted his head up to call out for help.
"They're getting up! Open fire!" A voice shouted from behind Clay. His legs momentarily unfroze as he barely fled the barrage of bullets the flew towards the horde. Two of monsters eating the woman fell but none of the others were phased. Elder Smith threw his arms over his head to protect himself, causing a stray bullet to hit one of the arms. He screamed again in pain, attempting to get back to his feet as the soldiers stopped their attack.
It proved too late though. The horde was right on him now as one monster grabbed onto his leg and bit his thigh. He pathetically tried crawling away but he couldn't escape its grip. Two more were closing in on him.
Clay's legs turned to mush once again. He couldn't think straight as all of the options flooded to his mind at once. He wanted to run over and save Elder Smith, but he would offer even less of a fight against the monsters. He wanted to tell the soldiers to help, but they wouldn't make it in time either. He wanted to fle, but that was the wrong decision to make. He wanted to warn somebody else but everyone was running in a panic. He wanted-
"HEEEELLLPPP MEEEEE!"
Clay then saw Elder Smith, reaching out with a bloodied hand, pleadingly looking right at him as he screamed. The tears in Elder Smith's eyes matched his own as Clay started hyperventilating. He had no idea what to do and now it was too later. The other two zombies tackled Elder Smith. He shrieked as one of them bit on his ribs before the other sank its teeth into his neck.
And that was the last thing Clay remembered before he started running.
He vaguely recalls the soldiers calling out to him but his mind couldn't process anything outside of the need to escape. His dress shoes clacked on the ground as he barreled headlong down the nearest street. He didn't have the faintest clue where he was going but he continued to run as he heard more cannibals from every direction. He needed to escape no matter what. Escape from this reality he had found himself trapped in, because this was no reality he knew existed. This was a living nightmare...
….
Clay's grip tightened as he held Elder Smith's spare name badge and the memory faded away. He hadn't thought about that moment in a while, as it had been buried among many other repressed thoughts locked in his subconscious. All of those images burned vividly like the day he saw them. The monsters piling on the woman. The bullets whizzing past him. Elder Smith's outstretched hand.
He closed his eyes and rested his head on the table. It still hurt after all this time. He killed Elder Smith that day. If only he had pushed past the crowd faster. If only he hadn't froze when he saw the monsters. If only...
Nothing he could say would change the past. Elder Smith was gone and he was alone now.
"I'm sorry," he whispered mournfully slowly sitting back up and wiping his eyes. He didn't know whom he was apologizing to at that moment: God or Elder Smith. It didn't matter either way. He had failed both of them that says.
He stood up and pocketed the badge in his jacket. He needed to take it...for his companion's sake.
He then sifted through the rest of the table items. Opening Smith's journal to the most recent page, he scribbled in his date of birth and death directly under the last entry. He stuffed it into the last open spot in the backpack, hoping no one would have to do the same for him. He stuffed the photo binder, a few pens, the map and a few other small items in the jacket's pockets before exiting and locking the apartment, likely for the last time.
With that settled, he proceeded down the hallway and looked out the nearest window. The monsters had finished attacking the car and congregated around the front door. Even if he had the slightest means of fighting those monsters to escape, he just couldn't justify it. Kicking one away from him was one thing. They were still people and against all reason, it just didn't feel right killing them.
He paced the hallway and ran and hand through his hair. His options were shrinking. There were only so many exits out of the place. The roof access was not an option, the front door was thrown out the window and the windows seemed unlikely without drawing attention. He pondered over any alternatives.
And then an option presented itself. He ran down the stairs as fast as he could to the bottom floor. Luckily, the sofa was still holding the monsters at bay for now, but he couldn't guarantee for how long. He then made his way cautiously to the back exit through the communal laundry room and looked out the window on the door.
Sure enough, that motor scooter one of the tenants drove was sitting idly outside near the bike rack. And sure enough, the tenant had once again failed to remember the Elders' caution to not leave his keys in the ignition! It wasn't the most efficient vehicle for travel, but anything that could get him out fast without too much noise was a welcomed option.
"Thanks again," he said looking up as he walked to the back door. Before opening it, however, he spotted a lone walker casually searching the area. It's jaw was barely hanging on one of its hinges and a chewed off stump remained where his right arm once was. It was the only thing between Clay from the motor scooter. Clay took a breath as he turned the knob. It was just one monster, he said in his head. Run quickly, push it away and get out. He should be able to deal with that, right?
Quickly locking the door behind him, Clay exhaled and bolted to the scooter. The monster spotted him and lurched toward him with a snarl. Clay shrieked slightly as he put more force into his run, positioning himself to shoulder check the monster. He miraculously managed to connect without being bitten, spinning it around before it collapsed on the ground. Managing to keep his own balance, he rushed to the scooter, hopped on and turned the keys.
The engine responded with a satisfying revving sound as he kicked the stand up and made his way for the street. It was then that he remembered that the only exit from this back exit was pretty much back out to the street full of monsters. The way ahead of that exit was partially clear but he would still have to do some maneuvering to make sure he wasn't grabbed on the way out. Regardless, he was committed now.
Clay sped past the monster he knocked down and peeled out onto the street, alerting all of the other monsters to his presence. Clay grit his teeth and prayed silently as he started to weave between groups of the monsters as they reached out to swipe him. A few close calls aside, Clay managed to avoid the attacks and came to an open space that directed him to round a nearby corner.
As he did so, however, his heart sank. Lying right ahead of him was an even larger crowd of the monsters. They must have also been alerted by the car alarm.
Triple crap!
As the monsters shuffled towards him from every direction, moaning loudly at the anticipation of a fresh kill, Clay felt himself freeze again. He couldn't fail now. It all had worked so conveniently up to this point. This literally was a life or death scenario and Clay was determined to live.
Reacting quickly, Clay revved the scooter and made his way down a small side street. One of the monsters fell right in his path, causing him to sharply turn to avoid it. Another group approached to his left, forcing him to turn right behind the larger group he just avoided. He had to hurry and navigate carefully. The longer he messed around, the more he would attract the monsters.
For the next few minutes, Clay was a racing machine. He wasn't a motor scooter master by any means, but it did help that he rode his cousin's scooter enough to be familiar with how they worked. His hands shifted nimbly around the handle bars as made his way out from the crowds. One of the monsters nearly clipped his leg trying to take down his scooter, but it only scratched the jean material slightly. It was then that Clay discovered what might have been his only way out: a lone dirt road that merged back on to one of the main streets out of town. Narrowing his gaze, he spun the vehicle around and charged headlong down the road. He had to leave now. Get as far away from this place as possible...
Time moved in fast motion as Clay continued his ride until he couldn't see a building or monster around. He stopped his vehicle and cautiously looked back. The monsters had long given up the chase, as they weren't even visible at the distance he had rode. It was then he realized he had been holding his breath in anticipation for the last minute or so. He exhaled slowly...and then chuckled. It was a nervous relief chuckle, but he accepted it all the same. Man, if his mom had seen him right now she would have flipped. He didn't even have a helmet on!
His chuckle trailed off on that though. He had no way to know if his mom was still alive back in Utah. He had no way to know if anyone back home was alive. The phone lines, Internet and mail systems were dead as door nails. Traveling there was simply out of the question too without a safer means. All he could do was hope for the best. If the opportunity ever presented himself to go home though...
He turned back ahead and checked his rearview mirror to see the Atlanta skyline. It looked like a ghost town even this far out, but at least he was out of it. If he ever had to go back there, it would be too soon. He had to get away. He had to escape the memories.
He pulled out the map from the apartment and checked for the fastest route to the one town nearest to him that he recognized. He had only been there once before and there were people he knew there who could help. To be fair, the missionaries living there could very well be dead too, but maybe they had found a way to hole up and weather the storm. They were capable of it.
He checked the fuel tank. It wasn't full but it looked full enough if he had judged the distance on the map correctly. He sighed as he heard thunder in the distance and storm clouds gathering. Maybe it was an omen, which wouldn't be a huge surprise. This was a fool's hope, but there wasn't much else for him to do otherwise. He had no friends to back him up, no means to protect himself and he couldn't just outrun the monsters forever. All he could do was try...
Some snarls in the distance behind him meant it was his cue to leave. He revved up the engine and began his long trip. Who knows? What's the worse that could happen out in Macon...?
...
And that's the end of Chapter 1. Let me know what you think. I have Chapter 2 in the works and hope to pump it out as soon as possible.