8) Dreams and Nightmares

I slept heavily. I hadn't intended to do so, or spend so long in one place. I keep berating myself for allowing it, because it is relatively open, though still out of the way, and anyone could have sneaked up on me, stolen what little possessions I have acquired, and even perhaps killed me.

What did I intend? To sleep briefly, one eye open for the duration of my sleep. Fat chance.

My dreams, so awful. I can just feel the presence of those dead bodies. It all happened so fast, I had no time to think about it, but if I had I might not have done anything at all. I guess there's no talking with some people, such savages.

My dream: it was dark, patches of wandering mist floating around like slow motion water, that if it touched me I might feel its coldness, its corrosive dampness. Things moved like shadows, dancing around me, whispering things I couldn't understand.

I kept calling out, foolishly I know, asking them what they wanted. A face approached me, like a vision, its skin blue, white and radiant, almost floating before me, ethereal.

It just kept repeating: it wanted to be alive.

I felt so ashamed, I had taken a life, killed these people, but they were screaming, I saw the blood lust in their eyes, crimson rage, ready to rain down their savagery upon me, blow after blow.

I screamed at the woman, and as if a gust of wind had snatched her presence away she disappeared.
Still, I woke up crying, quietly, to myself.

What choices we have to make, civilization versus survival. We don't get to choose; our natural human instincts do it for us, kill or be killed.

The sun feels good again as it rises over the hills. This place I am in, I can imagine briefly what it must have been like, these stone stairs that lead to nowhere, once they would have been filled with life, people going back and forth. There are desks down below, I can imagine they must have had people using them.
I wonder what they might have thought it I could have shown them an image of the wasteland that it has become now.
Perhaps they would have pleaded, like the woman in my dream, that it is better to be alive.

I am hungry, I have a few items of food, but what seems most edible is in a tin, and I can't get into it. I shall have to search now, find something to cut it open with. This knife I have won't do it, I tried. Last thing I need is to cut myself.

That door, I can almost hear it calling my name, but then, what is my name? I wish it would tell me. I must go inside, but what lies in there waiting for me?

My body aches, but still it feels good, I feel better about myself, that I can survive.
It is silent here, nothing moves except the wind fluttering around nearby, outside these tall ruins. As I turn the handle, what appears to be brass, it squeals. If no one knew I was coming in, they do now. The door is black, rickety, but solid enough still. Eventually that insane noise as I turn the handle ceases, and with it my heart increases, pounding in my chest. A vision flashes into my mind that as I open it, something will leap out and envelope me, some strange creature wrapping itself onto me.

What a horrible thought.

No matter, I just did it, turned the handle and dragged hard at the door. The air was all that wrapped around me, a stale, pungent aroma, dried and dusty, like this place. As I step in shadows play around me, it seems there is a fire inside, I can smell its acrid burning on my nose. A total contrast to that which is outside, and an example of how fresh the air has become in the world, now that the pollution that was man has gone.

I hear a noise, something scratching. It's one of those cockroaches again, so large it's like a cat. My pipe takes care of it, as it splatters around me. I wonder if I shall have dreams of these things later.

As I walk there is a long corridor, floors covered in debris, walls all peeling paint and battered recesses. Some lockers adorn the walls, but empty, battered and broken, like the place in which they dwell.

A voice calls out, and I drop down, hiding like an afraid child. I can hear the click of something metallic, perhaps a heavy gun.

I know you're there...

A voice shouts and I feel a trickle of fear run down my spine. I shall wait here a moment, plan what to do, and be ready. Once again, I fear I may have to struggle for my life...

www.davidcowdall.com

7) Gunfire and Predators

I have no means to fight back, other than an empty pistol and a metal pipe. I'm hiding behind some rubble, a piece of fallen building and debris, around the corner from where the shots are coming from.

Whoever is firing at me, keeps screaming obscenities, as if I am some kind of sworn enemy. One of them sounds like a woman, but she is extremely angry. She screams something odd: She wants to eat the meat from my bones, and celebrate by drinking my blood. Horrible.

I didn't see it coming, one of them just suddenly appeared right next to me as I was crouched. When I looked up all I could see was the sun crashing down, blinding me. I instinctively put my arm up, not only to block the intense light, but to try to shield myself. In several blinks of an eye, I realized it was the woman who had been screaming, I saw she didn't have a gun, only a large stick in her hand with nails pointing out, and she raised up at me, a look in her eyes that seemed insane, hell bent on my destruction.

She yelled something awful, my mind was a blur, and I cannot quite remember what she said, but I just felt her intent. I can barely recall what happened next, but something about me made her pause, merely a heartbeat in time, but enough so that as she stood, wide eyed, I was able to leap up and strike her.

Whatever I did, it was enough. I cracked my pipe against the side of her head and she just dropped, empty as if the wind had taken her like a kite, before flopping to the ground.

I thought to take her stick, but before I could do so another of them rounded on me, this time he had a pistol, same as mine, and he began to aim it at me. Without thinking I rush lifted the stick of hers, swung it hard and it twisted in the air before cracking him in the face. One of the nails slashed into him, and in his shock he dropped his gun. It all just seemed to (luckily) go right for me, and I managed to grab his gun, cock its hammer and fire off a shot. Got him square between the eyes.

I don't recall being so lucky, but then I don't recall anything, but it certainly seems I have an knack with guns.

As it seemed I was being lucky I ran at the last of them, rounded the corner, up what was left of some steps and when I had an angle, spotted the third of the crazies, and fired, one shot, bang, gone. Down in one fell swoop.

So in nothing more than a few moments, it is over. I fought for my life, in a way that I did not imagine I could, and I came out alive. More than I can say for these three crazies, but then, they don't altogether seem human.

One of them has a necklace, one of the men, but it's actually made up of what seem to be human teeth. I checked, and they all have their own very clean and very sharp teeth intact. Must be from others, their prey perhaps.

I searched all three, they were wearing one or two bits of armor, and some leather clothes which look too constrictive for me, so I skipped those. I'll keep what I have on for now, but the armor might help.
The woman had some things on her, a small silver ring, might be able to trade it, and some food. A tin of something called crab cakes, sounds awful, but might be needed, and some red meat, smells off, strange and I don't recognize it, but I left it. I shudder to imagine what it might be.

There is some bedding up at the top of the steps, and some bottled water. Not exactly sanctuary, but good for now. I shall rest. I spotted a door, it appears intact, and I might go in later. See what I can find.

For now, I shall lay here on this bedding for now, sleep if I can for sure, but for certain, keep one eye open...

6) It truly does look like a wasteland.

As I look out onto the great expanse, I am struck by how bleak it appears. I can see to the shimmering heat in the distance what appears like a broken landscape of desert and vegetation. Beyond this outcrop from where I am stood, this grey rock, it appears to be a steep drop downwards.

As I find my way carefully, I can hear the sound of the ground beneath my feet. It seems dry, brittle, as if not only the sun has baked it through an immense time, but also that something else had destroyed it, ruined the fabric of the ground itself.

There are patches of green springing up here and there, but not a lot. what there is seems spiky, prickly, like a cactus, but I feel certain not edible.

I come across a container, it appears to be made of metal. When I kicked it, it rolled a little, clattering as it went. It seems odd, such sounds in what has until now been a void, a place where other than my breathing sounds do not exist.

This metal container, it has a door. I open it, and inside is a stench I can barely comprehend. There appears to be some kind of meat in it, not too fresh, and certainly nothing I recognize. It glistens red in parts, as if whatever it was is still in the process of dying.

The sun is hot, almost unbearable. If I do not find some kind of shelter soon, and surely a source of sustenance, I will likely perish. I stop and look around, and in every direction I see a fine clear shimmering, like heat on a desert floor. It doesn't bode well for my progress.

Will I die before I have even begun?

I know I have little alternative, and so I continue. I stumble occasionally as I walk, feeling the cross of the heat and a bitter perspective on my future, that this may be all there is. A hopeless wandering until I fall, dead prey for whatever life remains out here.

Am I all alone? The last man standing here.

I come across something I never expected to see, a metal sign on a high post. On it are the words:

RIVERDALE

Amazing. Signs of life, or what is left of it. I walk over a small hill past the sign, and there appears signs of buildings. Fallen, broken, perhaps empty, but they offer greater hope than I have felt for some time.

A loud cracking sound rings out, like gunfire. It reminds me of a time before, reminds me that I know guns, and this is the sound of an attack. Another shot rings out, and another, pinging off rocks near me.

Someone is shooting at me. I must find cover. I shall wait and see, see who it is that wishes to attack me. I will be ready. 

5) Entering the Wasteland.

I did it, I really did it.

It took all my strength to build up to just look at the control panel. The moment I made the decision to go and look, to actually make an effort to go outside, I began to panic. Wondering just what might be out there, but how could I know, I don't even know who I am, what my name is, anything about why I am here, and given that, of course I would have no idea what to expect.

The panel was yellow, some faded lights on it, in a semi circle, and a lever to push across, one said locked, next unlock, then open and then the rest was worn away. It's like a lot of what I have seen here, not much dust, but everything seems dulled by time, worn away.

How long have I been in here?

I overcame my sickly feeling, I had to, because deep down I know this place is a dead end, that if I don't get out, I'll either starve to death or from thirst, or complete madness.

The lever was stiff, but I got it to work, and then this incredible racket, a maddening noise, screeching metal against metal, so loud my ears felt like they would bleed. This large wheel of a door, began to turn, bits of dirt and debris built up clearly over a very long time, years, could it be decades? I was so eager to see, so curious, waiting like the cat to be killed, but by what?

It did stop eventually, thankfully. And again silence descended upon me, like a blanket dropping across my face, reminding me how alone I am. I can feel the loneliness, almost taste it, like sour cream and bitter honey.

Down beyond this great rusting door is a cave like tunnel, leading to a simple wooden door. I have stood here, marveling at how brave I am, at opening a door, and yet I haven't taken a step since.

As I walk, I can see odd things growing in the cave walls; water runs down, like a vertical stream, and out of this water grows strange green things, like tendrils of moss, given strength to move away from itself, reaching out as if it might grab its prey at any moment. It doesn't of course, it just sits there, but how unusual it is to see.

This wooden door, this final place of safety. Will I open it and be engulfed in some kind of storm, or will a bizarre looking creature be sitting on the other side, waiting for me?

As I open the door, it creaks, not like the screeching metal of before, but quietly, like an old tree warning of a coming storm. Again dust drops to the ground, a reminder of its age; my age.

I push the door out and step through, and I am blinded by the bright sunshine, its warmth papering my skin, and I can breath in truly rich air again, enjoy its splendor, literally wash away my dread and foreboding.

As my eyes adjust, I look out onto what I imagine to be a new heaven, a place where I may one day find a home. It is a desert, rocks, sand, miles of it.

I drop to my knees, wondering what I will find in the time to come. I am haunted by the fear of it.

04) Strange creatures.

I got attacked. I don't understand it, I knew cockroaches could get quite large, seen a few in my time, even hissing ones, but these things, they're as big as a cat. There were five of them, making a terrible clicking noises. At first I thought they wouldn't bother me, but one of them seemed to notice and the others followed. I got bitten, feels painful. I swiped a piece of metal pipe and smashed out at them, just swinging in a frenzy.

I have never been so terrified in all my life. I wake up to this stinking tomb, dripping water and faded lights, and endless oceans of silence; then this.

I feel like I have sinned and dropped into hell.

There are storage lockers in here, I opened a few as they weren't locked. Got some ammunition for a gun, not sure what type but it doesn't fit this gun I have.

My arm is scratched, and going to need some bandages or a plaster or something.

I can see ahead now into an open complex, as I walk there are rooms leading off, one looks like a kitchen, I shall go look in a moment, but others appear to have beds in them. If this place weren't so devoid of life or even fresh air I might have tried to make a base here, but all I can think about is getting away.

The kitchen area, there is a fridge and inside are some tins of food, the label I don't recognize. Some other food in it has gone off, no chance of eating that. There is a sink, some water ran out when I tried it, but it is brown, doesn't look safe, so I will wait.

There is a large circular wheel thing ahead, which looks to be the way out. Before that is a control panel, and funnily enough it is lit up. I wonder if I should take a look, but what if the door opens and there is something terrible outside, waiting for me?

I have to go. There's not enough here to keep me alive, I know that.

One of the bedrooms, if you can call them that, sheet metal walls with paint flaking off, and a simple cot with cabinet beside, it had a photograph frame on it. The picture seemed to be of a family, but not mine. I don't recognize them.
I don't know why, but I removed the picture, folded it up and put it in my jacket pocket. A weird kind of company perhaps.

Yes! Found some clothes in another bedroom area, in a locker. Not much, trousers, thick shirt, a bit baggy, and some boots, good enough to keep the cold out.

I'm making some kind of progress. I'm going to open this door, if it will work, and go outside.

Wish me luck.

http://www.davidcowdall.com

3) I need food, I must eat.

I feel confused, my memory is so poor, I can't focus on the faces in my mind of the people I think I know. I don't even know who I am myself.

The skittering around is so annoying, I just have to do something about it. It sounds like the cockroaches I used to get in my flat, where at night, head on my pillow I could hear them scratching around. They sound much louder now, making me wonder if there are a lot more of them. Nightmares.

Oh how I wish for a soft, warm pillow right now.

Just in case, I searched around, looked for something solid to protect myself, found an old piece of metal pipe, quite heavy. Anything comes my way, I am prepared.

As I walk down the corridors, up the few steps into each new room, I can see small lights occasionally on the walls, providing not just a source to see, but shadows that move as I walk. It creeps me out.

My feet are cold on the hard, wet concrete; must find some shoes or boots soon.

I can hear water dripping somewhere, but other than that I am alone in the silence, and I feel very lonely.
There was another door at the end of the corridor, looked very heavy, but when I pushed against it, it moved easily aside. A large room stands before me, with metal lockers around the walls and a table, knocked over in the middle of the floor. There are some broken chairs here, looks like there has been some kind of fight.

I am ready.

Amazing! I found a hand gun, looks in excellent condition. It was in an old lunch box, which was very worn, but when I opened it, here was this thing. No bullets though, I'll keep searching.

I need food, and some drink, can't go much longer without, my stomach aches. I found an old workman's vest too, something else to cover me. It's not much, but better than the slight thing I had on.

Got to go out now, through the next door, but the weird sounds I keep hearing, the scratching, moving, almost as if beyond that door is alive, I have to go there.
I cannot go back, no point now, through there is the only choice. I shall push hard on it and see.

Wish me luck...

2) I can feel something, hear something.

The air is so dank I find it hard to breathe. I can hear some kind of skittering sounds around me, hidden but enough so that it makes my skin crawl.

All I am wearing are shorts and a vest, and I feel as if I have slept a thousand years. There isn't much light, but what there is I can see lots of cubicles, mostly empty, but a few with broken glass, like the one I seem to have lived in.

Was I born here? I don't even know my name, if I even have one.

Slowly I know I am beginning to feel. I can feel the sensation of the slight rush of air against the hairs on my arms, the brush of some kind of presence on my face. It feels cool, but right somehow. The floor is cold and wet, as if we are underground, beneath a giant lake. I wonder that because I can hear the faint tapping of water, dripping onto something hard nearby.

I am cold. I must find warmth somehow soon. My stomach feels empty, I need food, but I have no memories of the last time I ate. At least there must be water around, but is it clean? I have no idea, but I guess I should search and see.

There it is, that skittering around again, like spiders crawling all over the place. Are they hidden in the shadows? What does it mean? Am I safe?

I don't think I am.

I shall go searching...