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post #3 of (permalink) Old 04-01-12, 11:21 PM
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Default ‘But the food!’

‘But the food!’

Has the end come so soon? Is it what we expected or what we had feared? I do not wish for a new beginning because the new beginning has already begun.

The plagues began nearly two years ago; swept by the wind and transferred through touch and proximity. The lucky of us died quickly, but the unlucky were immune to the disease for whatever reason and were forced to see all they had ever known and loved suffer and parish in horror filled nightmares and the decomposing of their minds.


‘Watch the streets, Glasper. They are sure to come that way if we make too much noise.’ Dam said while working on the lock. Glasper was a thin wiry man, but strong and a fierce fighter. Most of his family had suffered from the plague and he had been forced to watch their deterioration. His long red hair was matted down by sweat and dirt and hung across his face and neck like vines on a tree. His green eyes were filled with old hurt, but they were focused as he watched the street.

Dam and Mica struggled with the lock as silently as was possible. The contents of the building were very necessary for the survival of the small group. They would have gone in through a window, but they had been barred; would have gone in through the roof but the fire escape had long ago rusted, the lower portions of the ladder having fallen to the ground sometime last winter.

Mica was a bigger man who used to be fat but the lack of exquisite delicacies and heavy meals along with the forced exercise of running and fighting for his life had left him lean and bitter. His long black hair hung in oiled strands loosely tied in dreads made from mud and blood. His massive hands pulled at the lock and forced the doors to give a little. Dust fell and the doors creaked loudly, echoing in the darkness. He cringed.

‘Please do not do that again Mica.’ Dam whispered. His eyes were almost black and the pupils were wide as they sought to pull the light from the swollen moon. The shadows danced slightly as the men shifted their weight from foot to foot. Dam was short and stocky, heavily muscled and angry looking most of the time. He was not a dwarf by any stretch of the imagination, but he was not much taller.

Glasper looked back to the doorway and frowned. He did not say anything, he did not need to. (The noise had been too loud, don’t do it again.) He looked back to the street and continued his vigil.

Dam produced a thin pair of bolt cutters and placed the cutters around the locking arm and applied pressure. His arms flexed and strained. These cutters were not designed to fight so big of locks. Mica grabbed the handles of the cutters, his hands easily overlapping Dam’s. Dam had not thought about the significance of the action until Mica’s hands began to tighten.

It was all Dam could do to hold in the pain from the strong force of Mica’s will upon the cutters. He nearly went to his knees as Mica squeezed the handles together in an effortless display of strength. Mica smiled as he released the cutters and Dam’s hands.

The lock was useless now and Dam’s hands were nearly so. He glowered at Mica in his pain, but was smart enough as to keep quiet. Making a gentle giant angry was not advised. Instead he smiled as best as he could and said, ‘Thanks.’

As the doors were pulled open Dam and Mica breached the entrance of the food pantry with flashlights on; the light cutting through the darkness in white cones revealing the emptiness beyond. Pallets of canned goods and powdered milks and bread mixes were stacked against the walls. The men smiled. It had been a long time since they had a feast before them, hungry was an understatement. Dam went back out to the entrance and got Glasper’s attention. Motioning Glasper inside he had a tinge of sadness.

Glasper nodded acknowledging Dam, but he continued to stay there watching the street. Dam almost asked him what it was he was looking at, but he knew what. His heart began to pound quicker as his adrenaline began to pump. From his vantage point, Dam could not see down the street, so he had to rely on Glasper for information. He hoped there were not many of them.

Glasper had seen movement at the end of the street. The moonlight was helping, but it was still dark. The movement was slow and shambling and at first he was sure there was only one or two of them. But as the minutes passed by their numbers grew from two to seven, to twenty and more. Now there was over a hundred and the shadows held many more, Glasper was sure.

He cursed under his breath when Dam had got his attention; at least he was smart enough not to speak. In the darkness they meandered like a confused river, unsure of where they were headed in their search for the living; it would only take the slightest noise to alert them to the small group.

Mica exited the doorway of the pantry warehouse lost in his own little world. He was smiling as he lofted an open can of beans and sipped from a dark bottle. ‘Hey, they got whiskey and beans in there! I fekking can’t believe it!’

Dan and Glasper nearly shot him as they turned. ‘What?’ he asked. Glasper fired his las-gun as he ran past the entrance of the pantry and kept on going. As he ran past Mica he jammed his las-gun into his face. The blow bloodied his lips and broke a tooth and staggered the big man. He dropped his whisky and the bottle broke upon the moonlit ground, breaking and spilling its contents.

Mica started to go after Glasper, but he was already out of grabbing range. Dam fired his shotgun and cursed before running past Mica, ‘Come on you dumb grox!’ he yelled.

‘But the food!’ Mica bellowed.

‘Leave it!’ Dam yelled back.

‘Fekk that!’ Mica hollered. ‘I want to eat tonight or I’m gonna die anyway.’

The stench of the dead hit him before they rounded the corner. He grabbed his massive wrench and slammed it into the head of the first one he saw. It fell but behind it the river overflowed.

‘I lost my appetite anyway. Fekk.

1,100 words not including title. I edited it the best I knew how to do. I wanted to make this about three men surviving in a world annihilated by plague, not necessarily about zombies. This is just a snap-shot of their lives. Who knows, I might write about them again sometime.

A good reputation take a long time to build, but only a moment to destroy. Wow, that's deep! Check out the H.O.E.S. short story competition.
Other stories from Adrian.
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Last edited by Adrian; 04-08-12 at 04:44 AM.
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