My bloodshot, crusted eyes flickered open and I slowly became accustomed to the gloom.
I slept, if you can call it sleep, standing in the corner of a classroom in a derelict school next to upturned desks and blood-spattered white-boards. I watched as others, standing next to me, some close, others a little away, made rasping sounds as they breathed, staring into nothing. We stood, not as one, not supporting or knowing each other but simply en-mass, waiting for something, something to happen, something to direct us. A sound, perhaps. A light. I don’t really know. It’s just a feeling.
As the daylight outside faded to black, I wanted to escape from this dead building. I pushed past someone and he growled but then returned to his stupor, staring, panting. I shuffled outside and I smelled the air. Nothing but ash and dirt, rotting corpses and dried blood. There was nothing I wanted here. Nothing I needed.
I moved further into the vast black night. There were no street lights anymore. Just darkness. Nothing moved. The streets were empty, devoid of anything of value. Just some burnt out cars and abandoned lorries. A school bus lay on its side; half burned with a charred body in the driver’s seat. A long-dead husk of its former glory.
My walking was impaired. I shuffled, jerking from one foot to the other. A dance of death, you could say. I smiled at my little joke. It won’t be a pretty smile as I’ve lost some teeth. I cannot recall how I lost them. I just did. It may have something to do with the hole at the back of my head. But I can’t be sure.
What was that? A sound. A voice? I tried to listen and locate the direction. There! There it is again. I smelled the air and, sure enough, I smelled meat. Fresh meat, at last. I started to shamble and shuffle in the direction I think the meat is located.
But I am not alone. I heard the snarls and howls of my room-mates behind me. They have also heard the sounds and are coming towards me from different directions as rivers flow to the sea. All are moving now, jerking, lunging, growling, starving. All wanting the source of the sound so they can bite, tear, hack, kill.
Eat.
I will get something, of that, I am sure. At least, I won’t die of starvation. It’s much too late for that.
I slept, if you can call it sleep, standing in the corner of a classroom in a derelict school next to upturned desks and blood-spattered white-boards. I watched as others, standing next to me, some close, others a little away, made rasping sounds as they breathed, staring into nothing. We stood, not as one, not supporting or knowing each other but simply en-mass, waiting for something, something to happen, something to direct us. A sound, perhaps. A light. I don’t really know. It’s just a feeling.
As the daylight outside faded to black, I wanted to escape from this dead building. I pushed past someone and he growled but then returned to his stupor, staring, panting. I shuffled outside and I smelled the air. Nothing but ash and dirt, rotting corpses and dried blood. There was nothing I wanted here. Nothing I needed.
I moved further into the vast black night. There were no street lights anymore. Just darkness. Nothing moved. The streets were empty, devoid of anything of value. Just some burnt out cars and abandoned lorries. A school bus lay on its side; half burned with a charred body in the driver’s seat. A long-dead husk of its former glory.
My walking was impaired. I shuffled, jerking from one foot to the other. A dance of death, you could say. I smiled at my little joke. It won’t be a pretty smile as I’ve lost some teeth. I cannot recall how I lost them. I just did. It may have something to do with the hole at the back of my head. But I can’t be sure.
What was that? A sound. A voice? I tried to listen and locate the direction. There! There it is again. I smelled the air and, sure enough, I smelled meat. Fresh meat, at last. I started to shamble and shuffle in the direction I think the meat is located.
But I am not alone. I heard the snarls and howls of my room-mates behind me. They have also heard the sounds and are coming towards me from different directions as rivers flow to the sea. All are moving now, jerking, lunging, growling, starving. All wanting the source of the sound so they can bite, tear, hack, kill.
Eat.
I will get something, of that, I am sure. At least, I won’t die of starvation. It’s much too late for that.
