Dark Streets- Chapter 1: A Long Feeling
If I had known that would be the last time I saw her, I would have said I loved her. I would have tucked her in more tightly, and wished her wonderful dreams. If I would have known that this whole world was going to turn to shit in the blink of an eye on that mournful summer night, I would have been more careful what I did and said to the ones I loved.
Sitting on the floor in the lifeless two bedroom apartment, with a yearning to be free from feeling nothing but antipathy for everything around me, I wept like I had never before in my life. This was the one place that I could feel at home, the one place I could feel… almost loved once again. This was the apartment that I and my wife bought together before we had our beautiful baby girl 3 months later. I could almost feel her heavenly smile upon me, I could almost feel her breath on the back of my neck. I could almost hear the faded laughter coming through the wall of the living room, while I sat wearily working on a report for the boss. It all seemed so apposite, sitting there with my eyes closed, breathing heavily, trying to combat the tears.
The door sprung open with celerity, working up all of the dust that had settled in through the broken windows since the appearance of the stench. That was what we called the undead citizens that had been somehow walking around the city killing countless people for these last days. A large stature Mexican man stood with broad shoulders in the doorway. It was the man that had found me hiding here on the night of the appearances. He had been helping me survive this nightmare ever since, and I still can’t figure out why. He told me that he would have helped any survivors he found; I was just the only one. He motioned to me to move towards him, placing his finger over his lips commanding me to be silent. I did as I was told. I picked up my car keys, maybe they would be useful, and silently came to a crouch. I slowly walked towards the door taking notice to all of the entrances of the apartment. He pointed to the street below, presenting over 100 undead in clear sight, all walking aimlessly forward towards the inner city.
“Don’t these things get tired or something? “ I asked hesitantly.
He gave me a blank stare, stopping me from asking any more questions. The stench seemed to travel in packs, even though there were no clear signs of communication between any of them. Once the ones on the street had cleared, he motioned me down the flight of stairs that connected with the once busy intersection. Down below me, I could see the blood stained stairs and walls spattered in a thick layer of brain matter. The Broad Shouldered Mexican started down the stairs in a careful pace, listening to the squish of blood under his boots and the reek of dried blood was enough to make me gag and cough. After regaining my sense I started after my Friend, watching every footfall careful not slip in the pools of blood. As we approached entrance into fourth floor he motioned to me with his gloved hand. I walked almost in a trance; I had lived here once my home, my friends and me. My thoughts still wandered as I came to a stop next to him. He talked but it seemed as nothing relevant came out. He shook me violently and pointed down to where their usually was a door that said “Fourth FL. Emergency Stair Exit” which was now lying down on the flight beneath our feet. Covered with bullet holes and used as a ramp I had no idea what had happened. With the large Broad Shouldered man in front of me, he signaled with his hands for me to watch the stairs, and handed me a large Mossberg 500c shotgun, He intended for me to use it. He walked out of sight into the Fourth floors long corridor, with a Para Ordnance pistol in his hands. I slumped against the wall and pointed my shotgun in a general direction of the stairs. I felt my eyed begin to slip and close, when automatic gunfire came from the direction of down the stairs. "Go! Up the stairs, move….” The words were suddenly cut off by screams. The screams came from the first floor, where the stench amassed. I began stumbling up the stairs to a vantage point half scared I slip in a pool of blood, and land on my face first into the spot I had just slept in. Walking back up the stairs to a better vantage point, hearing the gun fire get closer and closer to the overturned door, scared that the stench would find their way up. I hear the same man scream in horror again. I racked a round into the chamber of my shotgun in fear. I waited for the worst to come up the stairs. I waited in anticipation, my stomach started to churn acid. The squishy footfalls of many of them on their way up the stairs I could feel my palms start to sweat and my breaths became shallow and fast. I saw the first of the three of the stenches run up, missing an arm and gaping wounds in his chest. I panicked and fired into the general area of the abomination upon this world. Knocking bone and flesh out its chest and spraying the flight of stairs in a mess of organs. The sight making me swallow my tongue and feel vomit start to come up my throat. Boom! Boom! Boom! Went three rounds into the skull of each of the carcasses head, shooting brains in a spray on the back wall. I turn and see the Broad Shouldered Mexican’s figure standing completely straight and stiff with a smoking black Para Ordnance .40 cal pistol. Seeing his body made me safe. I then looked down almost in shame that I couldn’t protect my self and saw the heap of organs on the floor, seeing them still beating, churning, and pumping made me puke all on the floor.
My friend walked over to me lifted my head and then pointed to his pistol and then pointed to his head, meaning that I should aim for the skull. I nodded my head and just let the anxiety slip away. After spitting up stomach acid for a while my Friend tapped me on the side and motioned for me to follow.
I walked behind him as he strode up the stairs to the fifth floor with a pair of boots on his back. Stopping and turning, he looked at me. “Take off your shoes.” he said in a very calm voice,” Put these on.”, and threw the boots at my feet. I did as asked. I sat down and slipped of my old gray Puma’s and pulled the boot up my foot. Pulling my self up with the new footwear acquired taking notice on how big the boots were in the toes. Still with the Puma’s in hand he looked at me and just swiped them out of my hands. He looked around for a second and noticed the cracked window and through them out into the lifeless intersection, and walked. We walked between the rooms through the corridor. We strode past my old room, 512. Tasting the stale air as I passed, and reliving all the memories of love and family. All lost. I held back tears as pitied my self. Stopping and turning in mid stride, My Friend grabbed me by the shoulder and pointed for me to guard the stairwell on the opposite side of the set of stairs we were just in.
As I reached the stairs I noted that this door had been torn off the hinges and used like a kill ramp also. I looked out the window next to the flight of the stairs and saw a group of armed men atop a standard issue HWMMVEE. “Hey, check this out!” I yelled in a low tone. He came running up and saw the armed group embarking and speed off, raising the thick layer of settled dust that had settled on the street.
He looked up and to the stairwell, where the beat of footsteps came ringing up the stairs. The words echoed up the stairs “FRAG OUT!” and up came a grenade rolling up.