Afterworld: Into the Arms of Darkness Ch.2
Title: Afterworld: Into the Arms of Darkness
By: Pink Rabbit Productions
Chapter: 2
Date: 31 August, 2010
Disclaimer: Hmmm, characters, not mine, situation, mine, though with the proviso that certain scenarios owe a major debt of gratitude to George Romero. Sex? Likely. Genders involved? Likely all female (at least anything on camera). Also there are likely to be very bad things in this story. I'm not one for prodigious amounts of gore, but this is horror and there is likely to be ickiness and things that might disturb some folks. Seriously. If it's gonna bother you, move along.
Summary: When the dead rise, civilization falls.
Author's Notes: Awhile back, just for fun, I did a faux movie poster that set Otalia in a horror setting and used some elements from an idea I've had running around for ages (what can I say---it was the Halloween season). Sooo, at some point, it seemed like fun to take a gander at writing them in that universe. I've quite deliberately tried to break away from my usual style and make it a bit faster moving, with frequent chapter breaks, deliberate cliffhangers, shorter scenes and more directed pov. We'll see if I can keep to one pov per chapter (well, they are short chapters...lol).
Previous Chapters: | Chapter 1 |
In mathematics you don't understand things. You just get used to them.
Johann von Neumann (1903 - 1957)
Afterworld:
Into the Arms of Darkness
Chapter 2
Now certain she wasn't alone, Olivia's tension ramped up a notch. Moving quickly for a woman with a banged up knee, bruised ribs, and probable concussion, her footsteps were light and nearly silent. Afterworld was a hell of a teacher when it came to just getting through things no matter the physical discomfort.
She reached the hallway, quickly clearing it both ways, then checked the stairwell. Nothing moving there either.
Another soft thumping sound echoed behind her, followed by something curiously like a human moan of pain, yet not quite.
Zed sound. They were like that sometimes. Almost human...but not quite.
Shit, shit, shit.
Fighting the panic with every accelerating beat of her heart, she turned toward the sound, increasingly desperate to escape. Getting trapped inside with shambling death was an ugly way to die and even if she'd had a few thoughts of letting go over the last few months, she still had reasons to live.
She cleared a room. Empty bathroom.
Another thump.
Crap. Where was it? The stalking death that lay somewhere near just waiting to take her down.
And then she found it. Behind the final door.
Zed.
Her stomach rolled violently. She'd never really thought to pity the things, at least not beyond the generalized compassion she felt for who'd they been and the end they'd found. They'd always seemed beyond any tender emotions, and generally, she had nothing left to spare.
But this creature she pitied in a personal, all too human way, and she thought she saw an extra measure of deadness in its blank, agonized gaze. Nausea rolled over her and she found herself profoundly glad her attackers hadn't survived. Better the human species die out than be represented by such as them.
Because she suddenly understood why the bully boys hadn't cared if they killed her with their beating. They didn't like their women warm and breathing.
Laying before her was a zed. Possibly pretty once, with pale, reddish-blonde hair, her bone structure was too drawn by extended death to make much of it. Whatever her life had been, her afterlife had been a miserable time indeed. She was naked, tied, and roughly gagged. The stench of rotting flesh still didn't quite cover other, earthier smells that made it clear how she'd been used.
Spinning away, Olivia blindly found a window and pushed protective wooden shutters wide, then got the glass open, dragging in heaving gasps of fresh air as she struggled to clear her head and get the stench of death and rape out of her lungs.
It would be stupid to waste the bullets-she knew that-a stupid waste of high calibre ammo at a time when it was more precious than gold.
She didn't care.
It took four shots-fired through a pillow to muffle the sound-to sufficiently destroy the primal parts of the brain so that the creature completely stopped moving.
Staggering back, Olivia leaned heavily against the wall next to the window as she let the pistol fall to her side. Eyes tightly shut against the horror, she raised her other hand to her mouth, teeth digging in deeply as she fought to quell her rising gorge. Police the brass, she told herself, mentally hunting for an excuse to look away from the perversity and resulting carnage. Police the brass and get out.
She spun and crouched down, hunting blindly for the spent shell casings on the floor around her, her gaze unfocused, stomach heaving. It had been better than a month since the sheer gruesomeness of the world around her had hit her this way, but she knew she couldn't afford the conceit of emotion.
Get it under control and get out.
Unfortunately, intellectual knowledge and visceral response were two very different things.
Finally, she straightened, shoving the empty brass into a pocket as she moved. Stupid waste of ammo, but she'd do it again if it came down to it. Nothing, not even a zed, deserved that.
Careful not to look at the remains, she did a slow pivot and moved back to the newly opened window, staring out this time to spot the first bit of good news she'd had in entirely too long.
She'd finally found an angle that let her catch sight of the mottled, battered looking figure of her SUV right where she'd left it, apparently unmolested under a broad stand of trees. It was off the narrow road, past a house set back among a thick stand of trees. There were no zeds in sight.
A little of the tension eased. Just had to get out and it would be okay.
Green eyes searched the dimming interior of the bedroom. Anyone as organized as the house's original owners would have been aware of the dangers of a second floor bedroom. They would have...
Yeah, there it was.
Fire ladder.
She had the ladder hooked to the sill and dropped in moments. It unfolded as it fell, nearly touching the ground when it finally ran out of rungs.
Okay, so she had a way down. Meanwhile, the final strains of sunset gave her enough of a view to be fairly confident nothing was moving in the space between herself and the van.
Still, best to be careful. She shoved the Desert Eagle .50 calibre, the heaviest weapon in her arsenal, in the front of her belt before starting the climb and didn't breathe again until she hit terra firma and was armed once again.
A fast check to see if anything had approached unseen and she was moving, pistol in one hand, car keys
Any worries about water could come later. There was enough for another day or two. More important that she get back to the SUV and get her head clear before making any decisions. Everything hurt, but she forced herself to concentrate past the pain. So close to being clear. Almost to the van, almost safe, almost-
Suddenly, Olivia's feet tangled in something and she sprawled face forward and hit hard, deep, unmowed, summer grass poking her face and leaving her momentarily blind.
"Crap." Once upon a time she would have yelled. Now she barely whispered the curse. Her key ring was still hooked around her index finger, but the fall had knocked the Eagle free.
Even being momentarily disarmed triggered a wave of panic. Cold sweat prickled on her skin and she pushed up on her knees and was still searching for her dropped weapon when something knocked into her skull from behind hard enough to leave her seeing stars.
"Don't...move...." The growled command was too low and raggedly hissed to tell much about the speaker beyond pure, raw threat.
Olivia froze.
* * * * * *
TBC