14) A Gun at My Face

I didn't see this coming. I didn't expect to be shackled to a metal gate, wrists and ankles fastened, while a bunch of crazies run around me in circles waving guns at my face and shouting obscenities.

The way they dress, very much like the others who tried to attack me. Leather gear, and bits of armour here and there. I hope it is leather, not some other kind of skin... There are two females I think, and three males. Even if somehow I manage to escape, I couldn't hope to deal with so many, and besides, my stash is too far away from me.

My mind is a maze of riddles, and I cannot find the way out. Should I try talking to them? Should I just succumb and accept my fate, as dinner?

One of the females comes close to me, her face almost touching mine. She is pretty, except the pink spray on her hair looks odd. Her breath is foul though, some kind of stench which reminds me of before, the others, that same rotting flesh kind of smell, but it's in her mouth. Hateful.

'Who are you? What are you doing?' I shout out. My voice echoes around the chamber, it sounds like I am in a great cathedral, but even though this could be an analogy for one, now it would just be a tomb.

The others stop dead in what they are doing. Perhaps they don't believe that I can talk. The biggest of them, a hulking brute in all sorts of odd clothing, bits of cloth, leather, metal, his hair wild streaks of colour and very long, he walks slowly over to me. In his hand is a shiny metallic object, and as he moves closer I can see it's a cleaver. It is covered in dried blood.

'Wut, di ya say.' The man asks me. He almost drools as he does so. I can barely make out what he is asking, he sounds child like. I guess education died a long time ago.

'Why am I tied up like this?' I shout loudly. Their eyes widen. They don't seem to appreciate my words.

'Sssshhhh.' One of the females says, holding her finger to her lips.

'Why? Let me down!' I scream. Why not? It's not as if I hurt their feelings they might free me.

'Cos, dey will ear yaz.' The other female says.

'Who is dey?' I mimic sarcastically.

They look concerned now. I hear more noises from the tunnels, scrambling noises. This group of savages appears disturbed, excitable.

Suddenly something strange jumps out from near the stairs, it scurries, human like but still on all fours. In the torchlight it is hard to make out just what is going on, but I think it is the same burned out skeletal like creature like before. It leaps almost twenty feet, amazing!

It lands on the back of the biggest man, and he grabs at it, as he does the cremated flesh on its back slides off and the creature cries out. the man slams the thing hard to the floor and I can hear the cracking of bones and a squelching noise. It lies still, broken, dead.

The group stop, looking at each other, breathing heavily. I wonder how long before their attention turns back to me.

Then it begins, the insanity, dozens of those skeletal things leap out from the shadows, clawing and biting at the group. I wonder, any moment, will I be a victim, but then since I woke when haven't I been a victim?

They fight back, knives and blades slashing around. The creatures are weak, but fast. If a blade hits, they slice open easily, but don't go down, going back again and again, slashing and biting. There are too many of them, the group overwhelmed.

Silence falls, and the group is dead.

Now, one of the creatures, its skin a green tint to it, almost as if it is glowing, it sidles up to me. It eyes me closely, like a specimen in a jar. Its head turns and moves, looking at me closely, the others in its pack, watching, studying.

I can feel the imagined pain that is coming, as it surges through me relentlessly; but it doesn't come. I close my eyes tightly, wishing it were over quickly, but all I hear is the soft patter of feet, the sound growing quieter.

Finally I open my eyes. I am alone, except for the savage dead, laying around me. They will surely never dance again.

Now, my moment, to be free, once again on my way, to where I have no idea. First though, how on Earth am I going to disentangle myself from this fence?

13) Into Darkness

As I moved the metal gate aside, it made such a huge screeching noise, I wondered if I might not wake the gods! As if...

Still, whatever bugs and creatures live down there, it seems a foolish thing to even consider entering, an old subway system. Images of riding sleek silver trains runs through my mind. I cannot quite focus on the person I am with, but it is someone important to me. Strange, it is as if their face is hidden behind a white lace veil, that if I move it I will suffer considerable pain. the image dissipates, and all that is left is a sense of emptiness.

In here it is at least free from the cold air and dampness outside. It seems pervasive, that it leaks into my skin and leave me feeling awash with bitterness, that the air around me has emotion, and it becomes me.

The air is stale, the further I walk in, but enough, and there is no gas in here. I hear skittering sounds nearby, but it is so dark I cannot see what or where from. There are small side lights here and there along the walls. The place is like a long tunnel, with worn posters on the walls. The floor seemed once to have been tiled, but no more, it is just a mess of debris and rubble. I wonder for the safety of the ceiling, but if I tread softly, I am sure I will be safe, for now from roof fall. I hope!

As I walk there are several doors either side. I peer in and see what looked like bathrooms, stall doors hanging off and broken porcelain. I don't think I'll make use of these facilities today; I am more likely to receive something that to give something from a place such as this! Ahead is a waist height barrier, I guess a place to stop people to collect tickets, but of course there is no one to collect tickets now, and no one selling them. I wonder if I will ever see a sane person again.

Is this the true apocalypse? That from the savagery of man comes the insanity of realization, of what we have done to ourselves.

I just skip over them, feeling brave, and slip on something under foot. I crash to the ground heavily, feeling the pain of my weight pressing down on me. I lie there a moment, berating myself for such stupidity. I have no medicines, no means to bandage of help myself. If I break a leg or an arm, I am lost, because if the creatures that walk this Earth don't get me, an infection surely will. Certainly this is a harsh world I have woken to.

As I wait, I allow myself a few seconds to look around. The place no doubt was once a hive of activity, bustling people to and fro. now look, all forgotten and dying. Why should I see this?

Finally I pick myself up, and look ahead. There is a huge archway ahead, and what appears a huge expanse beyond. I walk, and I am amazed at what I see. There is a large area to walk into, and steps down in every direction. Below I can see the remnants of a train, stuck in eternity in this underground graveyard. I must ensure it does not become mine.

Noise. Something pricks my ears and I crouch behind the wall. Voices. There are several now, sounding much like those before.

A cackling laughter, their voice sounding decrepit and dry, like this place. Maybe if I stay down here too long I will become like them, dry and insane.

I peer over, and can see a burning torch, then another, they are placeholders, lights to show the way through. I was right, there are more, like the ones shooting at me before, but one, he has a rifle, an automatic gun. I cannot hope to deal with so many, at least four, no five of them, all heavily armed.

Should I go on? I cannot, it just seems an endless ocean of empty space. I might as well walk out into a desert.

I shall crawl my way past, hide in the shadows, pray they do not see me.

Down the stairs I go, on the opposite side, towards a beckoning tunnel.

As I slowly edge my way to the bottom of the stairs, I look up, into the gloom ahead. Two eyes stare at me, and I wonder what kind of creature this is. The eyes approach me, and a smile breaks out, worn, dirty yellow teeth, that lascivious look, and beneath her wretched gaze, a gun pointing straight at me.

I am lost, as she calls out, laughing bitterly. I can smell that oddness again, the air filled with burning flesh, and I wonder if soon mine will become part of it.

12) Crazy Eyes

This thing, its eyes seem to emanate madness, that it is simply a product of instinct. I can almost share its insanity, laying here on this dirty floor, as hungry and thirsty as I am, rolling around with this extra from a bad nightmare.

It doesn't bite me, just grabbing at me, swiping at me, thankfully missing mostly, but I know if it lands one serious blow then it's lights out, and then what. As I struggle I notice it wears some torn trousers, as if to cover its modesty, and the moment I see this I am confused, laughing at the absurdity of it, and at the same time suffering from shock that every moment of my being awake brings with it a new attack.

Again the creature digs its hands into me, no, not hands, almost claws, worn away by incessant scratching at something. As it pushes me, I struggle with all my might to push it away, but it is too strong, and I am weary.

Now, it pushes hard again and I can feel myself slide along, the gun, in reach of me, I grab it, my arm drops loose and I pull the trigger, one shot, again, another, and the thing snaps away, rolling across the floor like a beached shark.

I struggle to my feet, wary that it will spring to its feet again, but no, it just writhes around, not as strong as I thought. I hate myself for it, but I must do it, one more shot, that echoes around the huge factory, banging against the walls as a terrible reminder, of the bullet I put into its head.

It stops. the struggle is over. One of has survived, and thankfully once again it is me.

I look closer at it, still afraid at what it might do, that it might grab me, but my curiosity overrules my common sense. It skin is dark, like a decayed brown, as if it has suffered persistent burns. Its eyes remain open, as if its lids have burned off. Its hair is wiry, almost none existent. I cannot help but fell such pity for it, but that is just how I am. I wonder how long such sentiment will last.

No matter, for now it is over, and the only sound I can hear are from my own stomach. Rumbling away, complaining that it needs something. I wonder if I could cook the thing I just... killed, but no, I would rather die than be so savage as that.

I move on, looking around. There is a room, almost a room within a room ahead, up some small metal steps. As I walk in, I see a desk, some tiny lights still working, even after what seems like years, decades even. There are filing cabinets and some shelves. As I search I see a picture frame, very worn, but I can see a picture of three people, one a woman, smiling so happy, a young girl with her, and a man. My mind explodes with what I see, the man, those stupid trousers the thing was wearing, they are the same. Surely, that thing is not a result of him?

I feel sick with the thought of it.

I open drawers to take my mind off of it. Success! A packet of something dried, apples it seems, just need... More success! Three small bottles, on the side written in what appears quite fresh marker, purified water.

I don't hesitate, I break off the top and drink it down. It tastes foul, like old and dusty, but still, I need it. I have to have some, and it feels good, perhaps washing away my sins.

I won't stay in this place. I have enough to keep me going for now, so I will go, I am sure I will find more soon.

It is dark again outside, but surely daylight hasn't passed so soon? Then I hear a loud rumble, not my stomach this time, huge, with flickers of light in the distance. I run, to some steps, a sign says:

Subway

I shall have to shelter in there. Rain begins falling, and I wonder if perhaps I could wait a moment, drink some of it in, but then.. it burns! My skin burns, acid rain, spattering on everything around. It stings my eyes. I cannot see. I try to find my way down the stairs, find a mesh gate, push it open. I still cannot see, but I can feel the warmth of it inside, so I go, into the subway sytem.

I cannot even imagine what I might find down there.

11) In search of life, or perhaps just water.

You would think I have been walking for weeks, but in fact it is only two days, and yet I ache. I know I am hungry, and increasingly thirsty. I came across a murky pond, brownish in colour, it looked stained, as if oil was running into it. I feel almost desperate enough to drink from it, but not quite there yet. I know if I do, I shall either suffer or die.

I can't help but think the plains before me are often so wild and beautiful, a vivid expanse so large my mind can hardly comprehend it. Nor can I quite manage to envisage the scope of destruction wrought upon this place, back before I gained, or regained my consciousness. I wonder of how spectacular it must have been, with hover cars, and buildings surging up towards the heavens, perhaps all gleaming glass and flash metal. What of the colours back then? How amazing must it all have looked, and if it did, then why destroy it so?

Every step I take I wonder if I will come across another savage, something so odd to the imagination I cannot begin to describe it, another creature so strange that even my nightmares shy away from it. I can feel the sensation creeping down my spine. My senses are becoming sharper, more alert as I wander, and I feel sure no one will quite bother me so again, provided I don't die of hunger first.

From what I can recollect of my bearings, taken from the position of the Sun, to the East are a huge range of mountains, reaching so high they almost touch the clouds. I imagine it will be colder there, and I am not equipped yet for such a trek. To the West appears more of the same desert, an endless barrage of soil and dust, and I wonder if any water at all. Back to the South, behind me, again a mountain range, not quite so high, but still, I am not yet in the mood to go back. So North it is, where normally, as far as I can recall from what limited memory I have, North usually means colder, but that is something strange about what I have found so far, that there is no cold. Maybe I haven't walked far enough yet, but still, I wonder.

Finally, some sense of hope. Another large building. It is such an anachronism to what I lies around it, a waste of destruction, where other buildings appear in total ruins, this stands, like a solid, square building block, so dark and foreboding, as if the building itself is alive, watching and waiting for me to enter. I dread to imagine what might lay inside, but I need something to sustain me, food, water, I cannot avoid it.
Across the walls of the building as I approach, I see bricked up windows, they look like eyes, staring at me, unable to blink, as if their soulless visage is supposed to haunt me into staying away. It clearly doesn't understand my need.
As I walk around a large metal container, the sight before me shocks me as much as anything. It appears to be a long dead corpse, probably of a man, wearing aged blue coveralls. The figure is slumped over, almost crouching, with one hand covering what is left of its head. Could this person have witnessed the end of days? Was it truly so hideous that they couldn't bear to watch.

I am almost brought to tears, as I see what remains of a child's teddy bear, lying inches away from the prone man. His other hand appears to reach out to it, as if it had fallen away from him and he desperately wanted to clutch it, to feel something from it, a memory perhaps, before the darkness came.

I walk on a little, to find great metal doors, and in one corner another smaller door. This must have been a busy factory at one time, some smashed trucks literally lie scattered around the yard, broken fencing surrounding them, and a mass of empty bottles across the ground, as if placed there for their visual appeal, and nothing more.

As I approached the doorway, and my hand reached out in search of a new welcome, a huge screech pitched into the air, and for seconds after echoed across the place as if something had died terribly, painfully. Just as I thought it gone, it came again, followed by the sound of shuffling. There is movement inside, and I don't know whether to call out.

Should I run? My senses are screaming, leave this place, get away, go from the shadows and back into the sunlight. My empty stomach and cracked dry lips beg to differ. I am cursed whichever I choose.

I open the door, ignoring the demands of my mind, common sense left behind, just need driving me now. Inside the place is dark, but there are shards of light here and there, enough to see. There are stairs across the walls, metal ones, and some small blocks of buildings inside. It looks busy, even though for now nothing moves.

I step inside, and I can hear my feet scrape against the gravelly dust. The air is thick, as if you could literally drink it down, but fine particles of dust wash around me, no doubt contaminated, but I have other more important needs.

A screech beside me, a deep growl, and my skin crawls. I look quickly, lifting the pistol I have hidden in my pocket, before I manage to point it, even consider aiming, the thing is upon me and I fall to the ground. I am too weak to fight back, so hungry. It leaps on me as I lay on my back, and as I look up, I see its face atop, so close to me I can smell its grotesque breath, semi dead like the creature itself. Sun scatters across what is left of its skin, burned away by time or perhaps fire. It is like fighting against a rotting corpse, its eyes bulging out, dark and green, but so dead. It opens its mouth, slavering, drooling on me, I wonder if it means to eat me!

I struggle but it is too strong. I cry out, but no one hears me.

Is this the end?

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