I ran, sprinting and jumping over the bodies of the dead that the lined the hallway, with a horde of infected snapping at my heels; their shrieks and groans rang in my ears. My bare feet slapped against the tile floor, as I broke off a shudder. One of my feet stepped into a pool of blood from one of the many bodies. The scarlet foot prints trailed behind me, but soon destroyed by thousands of trampling feet. I tore open the emergency exit door and went for the stairs. I scurried down, only glancing back up to the infected momentarily confused with the idea of pulling a door open, but that wouldn't last for long.
My heart skipped a beat in one of my hurried steps down, my blood covered foot slipped causing me to lose my balance and fall. Dropping whatever was in my hands I covered my head with my arms and tumbled down the stairs in a crashed heap. A sharp pain cut across the back of my hand as I landed. Hissing in pain I unwrapped my arms from around my head and grabbed my belongings scattered around me. I rushed down the stair case as I heard the door fly open and the sound of a million footsteps echoed throughout.
I scampered down the stairs until I reached the ground floor; I slipped through the door and grabbed one of the chairs, barring it against the door handle. It wasn't enough to hold them off for long, but enough to buy me some time. I sprinted towards the front doors of the building and pushed on the bar. Outside I was immediately blinded by the light of the sun, stumbling towards the wall for support I allowed my eyes to adjust.
Blinking, I looked at my surroundings. The area around me was quiet, abandoned cars littered the streets. Some were crashed into the windows and walls of the buildings that towered over, other were simply stopped in the middle of the road and were left there to rot. Broken glass and trash was scattered throughout the grounds, causing me to watch my step as I ran away. Running down the street I only stared straight ahead, afraid of might seeing a wave of people surging towards me. As I became far enough away from the building I dared one last look. The chair didn't hold them off for long, but long enough so that I was far away and off their scent. The hospital looked more like a fortress from the position of the torn down exposed streets, yet from experience I knew it was no better than from where I was standing. Turning my back, I walked on down the road facing a setting sun of scarlet.
The buildings to my sides towered over me, casting lengthening shadows and the scarlet sky was cracked with a darker blue. The roads around me were dead silent with only the occasional breeze to break it. A familiar feeling crept up inside me as I walked down this street; I was alone, tired, and abandoned by the world. This feeling felt so familiar, so welcoming, like it was a long lost parent finally getting to hold their child again. No matter what I did nothing could shake it off, it clung to me like a tumor.
I had been walking down the street for what seemed like an hour with no change, the buildings still hung over me, intimidating and unwelcoming. The last of the scarlet sunset faded below the horizon, leaving the darkness to fill in the gaps. Muffled in the distance I could hear the sounds of the infected, apparently excited by the absence of sunlight. Suddenly as if it were clockwork, shambling out of the shadows were numbers of infected gathering into a crowd in the street. I didn't have much time, I had to find a place to hide and sleep for the night, and fast. Looking around I searched for anything that looked safe, what caught my eyes was a painted arrow along the side of an alley wall and underneath it hastily written: safe house. I weighed my chances, I had no idea where this could lead me but I had nowhere else to go, and a small number of infected already had noticed me and were starting to run my way. Without thinking twice I ran down the alley, following the painted arrows that pointed towards my salvation or damnation, either way there was no turning back now.
...
I sprinted down the alley way, following the painted arrows that promised survival. I turned the corner and saw at the end a barred door with a messily painted label saying; safe house. I looked behind me, the small group of infected swelled into a massive crowd charging towards me. Turning back to the alley way I sprinted towards the barred door, pushing every ounce of energy I had left against the ground. I reached for the handle and opened the door; luckily the door wasn't locked like previous encounters. I slipped through and looked the barred window, the crowd of infected rushed towards me as slammed the door shut and slid the bolts into place. The wave of people crashed into the door, the sudden impact sent me flying a couple of yards away from it. Their outraged cries and shrieks rang throughout the small house as the slammed their fists against the metal door and attempted to reach through the barred window. Picking myself up, I backed as far as I possibly could before collapsing with my back to the wall. Realizing I hadn't eaten or drank since who knows when, and only managed to get this far on an empty stomach and the sheer will to survive, it had finally taken a toll on me.
My whole body ached, my throat burned, and I began to shift in and out of consciousness. I shook myself awake and as fast as I could I looked through my bag for food and water. I grabbed one of the water bottles and twisted off the cap, gulping down the entire bottle in a matter of seconds I crushed the plastic bottle and grabbed another. I drank whatever water I could find until the burning thirst was quenched. I sat back against the wall as I felt a small amount of energy drip back into my arms and legs. After sitting there for a few minutes I finally sat back and grabbed one of the cans of beans I stowed away in my bag. Picking it up, I turned the can in my hands examining the labels. It was one of those big brand kinds of companies that sold baked beans and only baked beans. Personally I never quite understood how they were so suc-what the hell was I doing? Food. I grabbed the can opener from one of trench coat pockets and began my work on the lid. In no time at all I had ripped the can lid off and was guzzling down baked beans due to the lack of cutlery. "Should've picked out one of those packs while I was in the cafeteria but oh well" I said to no one in particular and I opened up another can of baked beans.
With myself fully fed I got up from the floor and decided to check my surroundings. The "house" consisted mostly of one room with only a small room to the side dedicated to a single toilet that gave off a horrid smell, deciding I'd rather hold it in no matter how bad it got instead of using that toilet I moved to the rest of the room. It looked more like a kitchen than it did anything else; cabinets lined the upper walls with a counter continuously running along the four walls of the room only broken up by a singular stove, with a lonely mattress stuffed in the corner. The whole place felt lived in and warm to the casual traveler, despite no one being here.
My immediate reaction was to check all the cabinets and see if I can find anything of use. However before I could check the cabinet closest to me I noticed a small clipboard lying on the counter in front of me, just begging for me to flip through. Attached to it was a small and rundown pencil, weary of who knows how long and much abuse. On the clip board written on top of the first page read: Name, Date, and Advice. This struck me as odd until my eyes trailed down the lists of names and dates. Below the title someone wrote down: Alex Freeman,
10/5/13, my advice….Don't trust the crying women, NEVER trust the crying women.
I remarked this advice with somewhat of a hint of humor, chuckling in the back of my throat as if I was just included in an inside joke of some kind. Moving down the list of names, someone wrote down:
Amber Green, 9/17/13, if you hear someone sniffing-run, don't even stop to think just run or it will find you.
Striking me as odd and somewhat frightening I remembered just what kind of shit this world can produce now. The lists of names continued throughout all the pages of the clipboard front and back, too many for me to care about. I set down the clipboard and began to search through the cabinets.
To my surprise nearly all the cabinets stored food and water, free to ogle at and take. As I searched through the last cabinet my eyes immediately fell upon the revolver lying on the bottom shelf with a piece of paper lying next to it. I cautiously picked up the gun and piece of paper, messily written it read: To the defenseless. Well; I had no weapon besides the kitchen knife that was thrown to the floor, so I would think I qualified as defenseless. Looking back into the cabinet I noticed stowed in the back was a small box; reaching farther back and grasped the tiny box. On closer examination it was actually a box that stored revolver rounds inside, which had relieved the small knot inside my stomach.
A pain ran across the back of my hand as I suddenly had remembered my trip down the stairs. Walking back to my bag I unzipped the opening and searched for the medical kit. Most of the medical supplies I managed to scavenge were crushed by the cans of food I so hurriedly thrown inside, such a shame. The medical kit lied at the bottom of the bag; I picked it up and unzipped it. Using my mediocre medical skills I uncapped the anti-biotic and dabbed it across the cut, after what I felt was enough anti-biotic cream to pulverize every bacteria into a pitiful heap I took a length of gauss and wrapped it gingerly around my hand. I looked at my knife which I had so casually thrown to the side and noticed a scarlet stain smeared across the edge of the blade. "Oh" I thought out loud, "That would explain it" I said leaning my head back against the wall and wondering how someone of my level of ineptitude and stupidity could have possibly made it this far.
...
The light now began to get dimmer as the waves of infected pounded against the door. I reached inside one of the cabinets that had stored camping supplies and pulled out a small gas fueled lantern and a box of matches. I turned the dial on the lantern and could hear the sound of releasing gas as I fumbled a match out of the box and stroke it against the ignition strip. I brought the lit match to the glass container and soon enough the gasses ignited and caught the mesh inside aflame, sending a warm and gentle light across the entire room. I picked up the lantern and brought it over to one of the many cabinets that line the walls. I opening the doors the lantern's light shone upon an enormous pile of books, sloppily stacked on top of each other. Grabbing a section out of the pile I sat down on the floor and began to sort them out. Most of them ironically were zombie apocalypse based books, titles like: "The Forest of Hands and Teeth", "The Dead -Tossed Waves", even "Warm Bodies". Chuckling to myself I looked at the books I held in my hands with a sort of admiration, I had read these books front to back I knew every character and plot twist those words could provide, it felt nice to hold something that felt warmly familiar in a world like this. I set down the books and sorted through the pile I set besides me. The rest of the books were mostly soppy love stories and mystery novels, none of which I had any interest for, then I saw it, sitting there like a prideful cat on top of a pile of clothing. I took the book in my hands and felt the cover page. Tracing "Harry Potter" on the cover I flipped open the first couple of pages and looked it over. I looked back over to the bolted door, the crowd of infected lessened as the hours ticked by, but some persistent stragglers stayed behind, whose moans and screams I could hear quite clearly. I wasn't going to be able to fall asleep anytime soon, but this would help. Closing the book and picking up the lantern I walked back to the mattress with my newly acquired revolver sitting on top, bundling up my trench coat and using it as support for me head I laid back and escaped into a different world that I gladly welcomed ever so dearly.