Trying to Survive
Part 3
By
C.J. Crowley
Contents
Chapters 1-23
Chapter 1
A young man periodically grunted as the wiry muscles in his back and shoulders strained. Sweat was running into his eyes and ears, aggravating him while he dragged the third body across the slick tile and left it by the back door with the others.
He was sick of looking at them, and the smell was becoming bothersome. He knew that in this heat the already strong odor would attract any shredders that happen to wander around by the front of the store.
It couldn’t have been more than three or four hours since he was forced to escape from the neighborhoods and barely made it inside a small hardware store across the street from a supermarket. He knew full well that if he hadn’t found a shotgun next to an abandoned police car along the way, opening that front door would have resulted in his death.
It was his first time firing a gun. The thunderous sounds it produced in the enclosed space, and the shock of the kick-back were almost more frightening than being taken by surprise.
He still couldn’t shake the terrifying reality of how lucky he was to be alive. He almost couldn’t believe he reacted quickly enough to kill the two shredders that were feeding on someone when he flung open the door. What really saved him was the substantial amount of sunlight making its way into the darkened building. They weren’t able to move at full speed.
After using his sleeve to wipe the sweat away from his heavy brow and light-brown eyes, he cracked open the back door and glanced around. There was a small patch of concrete that only stretched for about forty feet before it stopped at a large grouping of trees. It presented nothing more than a dumpster, broken equipment and random pieces of rusting scrap-metal and other mechanical debris.
He raised his shotgun, reached out with his left hand and eased the door open the rest of the way. There was an old, cracked and faded white bucket full of sand and cigarette butts to his right. He slid the bucket over to prop it open, and grabbed onto the ankle of the young woman who he was forced to shoot.
It was difficult for him to look down at the gruesome damage a shotgun inflicted at close range, so instead, he concentrated on watching his surroundings. There were no threats to be seen. His only real concern was rushing to complete the task so he could get away from their cold stares.
He felt that once they were dead, completely still and no longer trying to kill everyone in sight – it was like they were human again. He couldn’t help but see her as a normal person. A woman in work-out clothing who was out jogging or on her way back from the gym.
The only thing to help remind him that they were no longer human was the glowing amber of their eyes.
As he left the body by the trees and headed back for the second one, his guilt flared from the question of whether or not she had children. He wondered if her family was somewhere hiding, terrified, hanging on to the tragic illusion of ever seeing her again...
Knowing it was a horrible idea to linger around back with the door propped open, he regained his concentration and quickly pulled the second body across the short patch of concrete. The head bounced around from all the uneven spots and holes, giving the haunting appearance of the man rapidly nodding at him.
The exposed ribcage and partially eaten away face of their male victim, the third body, caused him to grimace and clench his teeth. A chill overtook him when he contemplated the amount of pain the man must have experienced. Even though he was dead, the fear was forever preserved in his bulging, bloodshot and motionless eyes.
He gently slid the heavy bucket of sand away from the door, closed it and locked it behind him. He leaned back against the cool metal and closed his eyes for several moments so he could catch his breath.
The front area of the store was decorated with bloody handprints, smears and the massive pool of it that had formed while they ripped into the helpless man. Only a single display of random hand-tools was knocked over. Everything else remained untouched.
It’s still a lot better than having to look at the bodies all day… and smell that smell…
After purposely avoiding all of the blood near the front counter, he slowly approached the window and looked outside.
The small city of Hinesville, GA was only about an hour away from Savannah. Its dense population of over 30,000 provided an endless supply of shredders to wander the streets and take refuge in stores and homes during the day. His only advantage was that everyone started to turn at night, so a large majority of people were home for the evening and miles away from his current location.
It didn’t change the fact that the grocery store he would soon need to get into had more than a few of them standing around inside. His fingers trembled as they spread the blinds another half inch to give him a better view down the street in both directions. No matter where he looked – they were there, patiently awaiting the darkness. Ready to start coming back to life if the opportunity for a kill came along.
A loud groan came from his stomach as he counted how many were in the grocery store and reached fourteen… Come on, Lee. You can think of something. The longer you wait – the weaker and slower you’ll get.
Okay… Twelve to the left, nine to the right and seventeen in the store…
Lee didn’t know shit about guns. All he knew is that he’d fired three shots – one on his way into town, and two when he was forced to hide in the hardware store. He pulled the action back and a shell flew out and rolled across the floor, stopping when it hit the leg of a display shelf.
Please let there be another one… When he pushed the action forward he could see that another shell didn’t pop up… Son of a bitch. What can I do with one shot?
Lee sharply sighed and dragged his feet over to the shell. He sat down on the floor next to it and stared for a moment before picking it up… One shot…
He inspected the shotgun, eventually flipping it upside down and revealing what appeared to be a spot to push in shells. It took a good half-minute of fumbling for him to realize that the shell needed to be pushed up toward the barrel in order to be properly loaded.
Lee’s car ran out of gas about a quarter-mile away. The day it happened was one of those days when the empty light came on a few minutes away from home, so he planned to get gas the next morning on his way to work.
There were plenty of cars close by that he could use to lead them away and then circle back around, but he didn’t know which ones still had the keys in the ignition. Once he left the building, he’d be seen immediately. He knew that if he was lucky, there might be enough time to check two cars.
Lee didn’t know for sure, but the sun’s position and intensity suggested it was after noon. It would cool down quite a bit at night, but during midday the inside of the hardware store felt like it was well over a hundred degrees. Even his jeans were dampened with sweat.
He got up and walked back over to the front window so he could start counting the shredders again and see if any of them were moving away. It was becoming evident that he’d have to wait until the sun goes down and they leave the buildings to hunt.
Lee focused on the two cars in the middle of the road. The closest one was rather small, but the other was a large SUV and it was no more than fifteen feet from the front of the grocery store. Suddenly, he saw them as a possible way to sneak across without being seen.
Now, he just had to wait for nightfall and hope that all of the shredders leave the store.
When Lee studied the randomly intricate designs of blood left behind by the small massacre that took place, his stomach began to turn. It was mainly from being hungry since he ran out of food the day before, though his fear
and disgust undoubtedly made a large contribution.
He felt it was wise to search around for another weapon to bring with him. Since he’d have to try and sneak across at night, using the shotgun was the very last resort. If anything, he assumed death would come within seconds after the blast filled the quiet street.
Even if he had time to make it back to the hardware store with some food and water, if one of them saw him go inside the chances of his survival would be very slim. Silence, and not being seen were equally important.
Being in a hardware store, there were plenty of deadly tools to choose from. As Lee walked up and down the short aisles he took a mental note of everything that might be useful, but continued to search. His mind was set on a machete.
It wasn’t long before he found exactly what he wanted. The last aisle he checked presented a high-end machete in a massive leather holster. The handle was stained wood instead of plastic, and it even had a guard to prevent a person’s hand from slipping upward and being cut by the blade.
Shortly after Lee finished partially removing his belt and sliding it through the loops of the leather holster, he noticed a small axe nearby and took that as well.
When he walked over by the front window the sun caught the highly polished head of the axe… Why haven’t I seen anyone else yet? Have those things killed all of them?
As the hours passed, Lee would occasionally nod-off, but his eyes wouldn’t stay closed for long, even though he was exhausted. By the time the sunlight was beginning to fade and signaling the end of the day, the pain in his ass from sitting on the hard tile floor inspired him to get up and walk around.
After a quick glance through the window, he instantly fell backward to the floor and started frantically crawling away. While he was lost in thought, waiting for the sun to go down, a large pack of shredders had made their way to the area.
They were still moving slowly, but he knew they would start rummaging around and randomly breaking through doors and windows within the next few hours. The front of the store was basically all glass… I can’t stay here…
Lee just sat on the floor, leaned back onto his sweaty palms, feeling like they could slip out at any moment. His gaze followed a patch of clouds as they drifted in front of the sun and the inside of the store temporarily grew dark.
It didn’t last long before it reappeared and cast a glare through the window that almost blinded him. He squinted and turned his head away. The three separate trails of blood leading to the back door pointed to his only means of escape.
I need to get to a building with a second floor.
Chapter 2
“They’re fucking everywhere, Allen!” Said a tall, slender woman as she looked down at the parking-lot of an apartment complex.
“You’ve said that ten times already.”
She panned to the nine shredders gathered in the shade underneath a tree, just a few yards from the front door. There were so many around the cars that she didn’t even bother to count.
The lot was almost completely full, and she could see the baked and darkened blood stains littering the narrow sidewalks that led to everyone’s cars. The few people who did manage to make it and back out of their spots didn’t get very far. It all provided perfectly clear insight into the consequences of leaving the apartment.
She groaned as she collapsed onto the couch next to Allen and leaned her head back, sending all of her reddish-brown hair away from her face. She reached out to a small box on the coffee table and dug around until she found a small band.
As she gathered all the strands of her shoulder-length hair behind her head, she muttered “Jesus Christ, it’s hot.”
“You’ve said that ten times already too, Veronica.” Allen replied sarcastically – mainly due to his fried nerves and the feeling of utter hopelessness.
Allen had understandably developed an especially poor attitude that only seemed to intensify as the days passed. Veronica’s own stress had her moments away from lashing out at him, but then she remembered why the apartment was filled with the stench of death… And why neither of them had set foot near the top of the staircase leading down to the front door since the night everyone began to turn.
She remembered the moment Allen’s wife of twenty-four years, Debbie started having a seizure at the dinner table and fell from her chair. She could still hear the snapping of Debbie’s teeth from when she pinned her to the wall and tried to bite at her face.
The loud thudding of Debbie’s body tumbling down the stairs after Allen fought her away sounded off almost every time Veronica closed her eyes. Allen’s roars of anger and confusion, and cries for help that were never answered haunted her.
She was so relieved that the screams coming from outside stopped Allen from opening the front door and running outside so he could rush Debbie to the hospital. As the thought of being all alone entered her mind, the fear manifested the symptoms of a panic attack.
Veronica calmed herself and reached out to hold her grieving brother’s hand – the instrument of his wife’s demise, and the reason they’re both still alive. Allen turned to her and did his best to feign a smile.
Even though Veronica knew he was going through something she could never begin to understand, they were out of food and almost out of water – she needed his will to live to surpass his grief.
“Allen, we aren’t going to die here.”
He scoffed “You’d rather die by the front door, or in the parking-lot instead? If we even make it that far.”
“It’s been at least two weeks. Obviously, the government isn’t sending anyone to help. We have to try something… I don’t know about you, but I’d rather risk getting my throat ripped out than slowly starve or die of thirst… At least it’ll be quick.”
Allen’s mind focused on the first part of her statement. “You mean since I killed my wife?”
Veronica pressed her lips together and tightly gripped her knees. Her pity for Allen was keeping her from pushing him to be strong and fight for his life, and for hers… I’m sorry, Allen, but I have to…
“That wasn’t your wife.” Veronica looked into his eyes. “Debbie died… and her body turned into something else – just like all those people outside. The moment she fell to the floor, she stopped being Debbie… You protected us from something that was trying to kill us.”
Allen didn’t answer her. He’d known that truth since the day it happened, but that had nothing to do with the way he was feeling. Once he accepted the fact that her neck was broken, and joined Veronica by the window to witness what was taking place outside, he knew his wife was gone before he threw her down the stairs.
His sadness and self-destructive attitude didn’t stem from the circumstances of her death, but simply from her death itself. At that moment, while sitting there talking to Veronica, he was almost certain that he had no reason to live. Not only because of his wife, but because of the new world he could see from his second floor window.
“Allen, we’re out of food, and we’ll be out of water by tomorrow. We have to try and get into one of the other apartments. I haven’t heard any noises coming from around us. The ones next-door are probably empty.”
“That’s because everyone’s dead… We’re only alive because the dining room table is near the stairs… We both know exactly what those things are capable of – even though they slow down during the day, there’re just too many of them.”
“Fine.” Veronica said as she stood up. “You don’t wanna live? Well, I do. I’ll just go myself.”
“No… You aren’t setting foot out there unless you absolutely have to. I’m going to go try in a minute.” Allen raised his cold gaze up to Veronica. “I’m just saying that you shouldn’t expect me to come back… If they don’t spot me right away, the noise I’ll make kicking a door in will probably get me killed.” He laughed. “And if they find out you’re up here, there won’t be any way to stop them from getting in – then we both die.”
Allen left the sweat soaked couc
h and approached the window. The front door of their apartment was facing the parking-lot, and would surely make it so he’d be seen before he even stepped outside. His car was no more than twenty feet away, but the apartment complex provided covered parking so most of the shredders in the area were hiding by the cars to escape the sunlight.
He couldn’t conceive of a way to check another apartment without being seen and leading the shredders right to him. And he knew the option of making a run for the car might as well be relabeled as the “suicide option”.
Veronica brought her hand up, collected the beads of sweat on her forehead and slung it off to the side. Her already high levels of tension increased exponentially when she took a moment to think clearly and realized that Allen was right – if he went out there, she’d probably never see him again.
Knowing that the second scenario would result in sitting around and watching each other slowly die made her feel completely helpless. She buried her face into her hands as the tears inspired by her immense frustration began to form.
A strange sound caused Veronica to raise her head. It was low and distant, but continuous and somewhat high-pitched. Allen said “What is that?”
Veronica joined him by the window and concentrated on the sound. “Police sirens? Maybe help is coming.”
Allen let out a single laugh through his nose and bleakly replied “It’s just a car alarm.”
Veronica’s eyes thinned and darted around the room. She theorized that setting off car alarms in the parking-lot could be a way to give Allen enough time to check some of the neighboring apartments.
“Allen… I think I have an idea.”
“Yeah?”
“Open the window as quietly as you can.”
Allen jerked away from the window and faced her. “Are you crazy? They’ll hear it.”
“It doesn’t matter because we’re going to set off a bunch of car alarms.”
He paused for a moment, and his chin slightly dropped. “Holy shit… that might actually work.”
Trying to Survive (Part 3) Page 1
