Adam - Ben's House (pt.3)

(Part 2)

I hear muffled voices. I lean up just enough for an explosive, yet, dull pain to shoot throughout my abdomen. My heart flexes in a few deep pumps as panic sets in. I remember being shot, phoning for help and leaving Anna a voicemail. How long have I been out? Where am I?

I take a moment to look around and realize I am alone stretched out in the back of a dark ambulance. The only light is from a far away streetlamp reaching through the windshield behind me. I still hear voices but can not make out what they are saying. They sound like an argument. My wounds have been wrapped up all around my stomach, but they are wet. Blood is seeping through the bandages. I feel weak. I hope I am at the hospital. I imagine a team of medical professionals assembling outside the vehicle.

The voices outside are getting louder, I can almost make out what they are saying. The back door of the ambulance opens. Bright light floods in from a different streetlight. As my eyes adjust I see a few children are standing in the opening. I am not at the hospital. My heart sank. I hear a woman from behind the door tell the children to get inside.

The children shuffle into the truck. They all look in a lost gaze. There are three, a little boy maybe around five or six, a young girl a few years older and a teenage boy. The youngest had stripes of tears running down both sides of his face. The girl is sitting against the wall tucking her head behind her knees. The oldest stood on the edge of the doorway with a defiant look about him. None of them seem abnormally affected by my presence.

The conversation outside the ambulance continues. ‘Shauna, come with us. You can not stay here.’ The tone sounded less like a suggestion and more like an order. ‘He’s not worth it and, from the little I know of what’s goin’ on, I doubt he’ll make it back to you anyways.’

I hear the other woman speak. She sounds much younger and her words are being sifted through tears. ‘He’ll come for me. I know he will.’

‘I can’t leave you like this. Come with me. Come with us. You’re my baby, I’ll keep you safe.’

‘Momma, those are my babies. I need you to keep them safe. I have to stay here. I’m sorry. I have to wait for Casey. I know he will come for me. He has to. He told me to stay here.’

‘It’s not safe, Shauna. Things are getting crazy out there! You don’t know what’s going on.’

‘You don’t even know what’s going on out there, you said so yourself. But, I believe you. I believe that something bad is happening right now. That’s why you’re taking my kids, but I have to stay and wait for him. He’d wait for me.’

‘You think so? Do you really think so? Shauna...if you think it’s smart to send your childr--’

‘Momma! ...just go.’

The back doors shut. We are in darkness. I hear a few more muffled exchanges between the two women as the children around me start to realize that their mother was not coming with them. The two youngest are no longer sobbing in silence. The driver’s door opens and a woman gets in as she is talking quietly to herself.

‘--that woman. God, she’s as stubborn as her father. I swear. I can’t belie--’

‘You promised!’ The teenager’s voice bolted from the back of the ambulance. ‘You lied, Grandma! You said you’d get her to come. You said she’d come with us!’ His voice quickly went from fury to flailing sadness.

‘She’s waiting for your father. She wants to make sure he’s safe.’

‘He’s not even my real father! He’s just some stupid guy.’

‘Shut up Marcus!’ The little boy chimed in. ‘My dad is not stupid! Mom’s gonna keep him safe. She said so.’

‘Mom’s gonna die.’

‘Marcus!’ The voice cut from the cab. ‘Everything is going to be okay. When we get to the hospital, we’ll be safe. Everyone just calm down. Edgar, your mommy and daddy will meet us at the hospital later, alright?’

Good, we are heading to the hospital. I clear my throat. The act sends ripples of pain across my body. I muster up some energy and quietly announce my presence. ‘Uh...hello.’

‘Oh lord.’ The lady reacts in a joyous and surprised manner while attempting to mask any excitement. ‘You’re alive!’

‘You’re shocked?’ I feel myself sink into an emotional vat of hopelessness and despair. I suddenly feel lonely. ‘Was I supposed to be dead?’

‘Oh, god, no. I didn’t want that. I’m just a little shocked that you are conscious. I didn’t mean it to come out like that. It’s just...’

‘Just what?’ I anxiously await the response.

‘Things are, well, it’s just. You know, sometimes.’ She stumbles over her words. ‘My job is to help you.’

My mind is still running laps trying to make sense of everything. I have so many questions. My eyes are heavy and my breathing is shallow. I might die back here, in this ambulance, in front of these strange children. I am finding it exhausting to speak. ‘Why are these kids here?’

‘We had to make a detour.’ Her voice carries justification with it.

‘These kids...’ I wince as I try to find a breath strong enough to hold words. ‘They are more important than my life?’

‘Probably not to you.’

I attempt to speak normally but my words are as soft as a whisper and occur only between small breaths. ‘Do you even care if I live?’

‘Of course! I am taking you to the hospital aren’t I?’

‘Then...why did you stop?’ I am finding it harder to breath.

‘The world is going batshit right now. I have my reasons. You should feel lucky I even responded to the call. A lot of people are abandoning their posts.’

I feel consciousness trickling out of my reach.

‘Marcus, I need you to do exactly what I say.’ The overhead lights flicker on in an overwhelming brightness. Everything becomes blurry. The words of the medic fade away along with my thoughts.

(Part 4)

Adam - Ben's House (pt. 2)

(Part 1)

I’m trying to analyze what had just happened. I am down on one knee, struggling to find strength. My phone is face up on the pavement in front of me. I can feel a surge of adrenaline, greater than anytime I can recall, pumping throughout my body. There is a dull pain radiating from my stomach. Due to a sudden weakness, I am lacking the ability to stand. I fall into a sitting position and brace myself against a car. I look down to my stomach and realize I have frightening amount of blood seeping through my sweater. Suddenly sharp agony consumes my entire body as I become aware that I have, in fact, been shot. I count two wounds. The worser of the two is located next to my right hipbone just above my jeans. The other is on my left side just below my ribs. I try to apply pressure to both. I begin to become extremely worried. I need to call an ambulance.

Reaching for my phone, Anna crosses my mind. I can hear her justifying why I should have stayed with her tonight. I should have. As I unlock my screen, I see the nine and one I had previously dialed. I should have finished dialing and hit send as that man had the gun pointed at me. They would have heard the gunshots and probably already had sent someone out. That could be the difference between my life and death in this dismal situation. I hope it isn’t. I finish dialing. Send.

The phone is mid-ring as I hastily struggle the phone to my ear. They pick up. ‘Sampson County 911, how can I direct your emergency.’ Her voice sounds angelic.

‘I have been shot.’ My level of calmness catches me by surprise. I have been shot, how could I not panic? ‘I’m in the parking lot of the “Sunny Glen” Apartments. Right off of Hawthorne Avenue.’

‘We will send an ambulance immediately. Stay on the line.’ I feel a level of relief drape over me. I feel light headed. ‘Where were you shot?’

‘In my stomach, twice.’ Anna. Oh, god. I need to talk to her. ‘Do you have an ambulance on the way?’

‘Sir, someone will be there shortly. How much blood have you lost?’

‘I don’t know. I’m getting pretty light headed. Dizzy.’ I realize that I may save time if I move to the main road. I have to call Anna. ‘I am going to be on the side of Hawthorne Avenue. Tell the ambulance. I have to call Anna.’

‘Sir! I need you to stay--’ I hang up. Please, relay my message. I need to talk to Anna; It might be my last chance.

I feel as though I am about to nod off. I have to stay awake. I have to stay conscious and make it to Hawthorne. It takes everything I have, every ounce of strength, every fiber of muscle and all the will I possess to pull myself to my feet. My stomach throbs in a deep, dull ache as I push my weight onto my feet. I clench my teeth and let out a low, throaty groan. Time seems to stand still and I balance myself off the car. I hear a few drops of blood hit the cold, dry concrete. A deep breath turns to a long, exasperated sigh before I focus my gaze across the parking lot to my destination. I tell myself if I can make it, I will be safe. I have to call Anna. I am too weak to multitask. I’ll call her when I get there. I will call her when I am safe.

Following the contour of the car for balance, I begin to walk. Each step costing the consequence of rippling misery as I shift my weight to each foot. I take a quick deep breath and whisper to myself. ‘I can do this.’ Breath in, ‘Adam, you can do this.’ Breath out, ‘You are stronger than this.’ Clenching my jaw, I focus on the goal. ‘Your father didn’t raise a quitter, Adam. Move.’ I imagine my father watching over me, cheering me on, like he did at every sporting event I ever tried. He was always there, every game, until he physically could not. I will remain strong.

A hundred feet might as well be a mile in this condition. I am almost there; one more row of the lot, about ten to fifteen feet of grass and I should be at the sidewalk. I stop to lean against a cherry-red sedan. My gut is throbbing, and all I can think about is the woman I had left behind. If I find this almost unbearable, then how must have she felt? I just left her. Karma, I suppose. But, I’m a fighter. I will make this. Without lifting my hand off my wound, I push myself from the car with my elbow. I drop my head and, looking up to the road, I really start pushing. I have almost a steady stride now. I’ve reached the grass. I just have to break the line of well-maintained shrubbery and I’m golden. I will be my own personal hero. I will call Anna. I am through. I drop to my knees. I catch my breath and pull out my phone.

Looking up and down the road I realize that there is absolutely no traffic. I find that extremely odd. Hawthorne is a major road in our city. Most days you cannot even cross without a stop light and everyone knows to stay away during rush hour. Where’s my ambulance? If there is no traffic, they should be here by now. I uncontrollably roll off my knees onto my left hip. Calling the feeling that cut through my body a shock of discomfort would be a large understatement. It just about stopped me from breathing all together.

I pull the phone to my blurry line of sight as I lay on the chilly pavement. Time to call Anna. Keeping my eyes open long enough to find her number becomes a difficult task. Finally, I get it to connect. It goes straight to voicemail. I bet she turned it off after I left. Why does she do that? She always does that, then she’ll turn it long enough to send a text just pissy enough to infuriate me but with nothing victimizing enough to complain about. I guess I’ll have to leave a voicemail. ‘...please leave me a message after the beep. ‘K, thanks!’

Beep. ‘Anna? Uh, hey, it’s Adam. Listen, well, tonight hasn’t really, um...’ I take a deep breath trying to let out some of the pain twisting throughout my voice as well as to buy time to find out how to say what I need. ‘Anna, tonight...it hasn’t really gone to, uh...Anna, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you. I don’t want your last memory of me--’ Damn it. I’m making this sound like I am going to die. My fleeting alertness and the fact that I have seen no sign of rescue are really starting to tug at my optimism. ‘Anna...I just need you to know that I really care about you. Be careful. Something is off tonight. Stay home. I...love you.’ I hang up.
My last sentence left a fleeting imprint in my mind. That was the first time I had ever told Anna, let alone any other girl, that I loved her. I don’t know if it’s the lack of blood, the overwhelming fear or the very real possibility that I may actually die, but I do care about this girl. I may never see her again. There is no sign of an ambulance. I am barely keeping one eye open. Don’t fall asleep. Stay awake. Stay awake. Stay...

(Part 3)

Adam - Ben's House (pt. 1)

I hate fighting with my girlfriend. It wasn’t much of a fight. It never is, really. We just stop talking until it is forgotten. We never resolve anything even though we communicate better than most of the other couples I know. Man, I hate red lights. They are never timed correctly. Doesn’t matter, I’m almost to Ben and Kyle’s place. I know there is a cold beer waiting for me in a stress-free environment loaded with good friends. Also, the game tonight should be very entertaining. It’s bound to be a pleasant night, despite the passive-aggressive text message I’m bound to get from Anna at some point. Hopefully it will be after the second half when I’m equipped with a nice buzz.

What do you know, no visitor parking at Ben’s. That’s so frustrating. Guess I’ll head to the apartment complex down the street to find a spot. Good thing my fantasy team is doing well. I could really use a win this week.

Funny how there is an amazing amount of extra parking spaces in this part of the development. I guess apartment renters have more visitors than people in townhomes. Whatever. Line it up. Neutral. Handbrake. Park. Turn the car off. Grab the keys. Wallet, check. Cell Phone, check. Coat, check. Lip balm, can’t forget the lip balm; it’s been too dry lately. Deep breath. Brave the cold. Lock the car. Head to Ben’s.

Man, is she really upset? She’s not that upset, is she? I mean, she doesn’t even like football. We hung out last night and the night before. I met her parents last week. I’m really in to her, I think. I am. Why is she so upset? I asked her if she wanted to come. She, of course, didn’t. She never does. I hope it’s not my friends. I hope they aren’t the problem. Ben is my best friend, she has to like him. I know Kyle can be a bit of a tool at times, but, in small doses, he is an alright guy. I do wish they would fix this parking problem. Send an email or something. Why are there so few visitor spots? It doesn’t make sense. It’s too cold to walk this far. Walk faster.

Screeching tires. I hope that dude wrecks. I hate it when people just peel out for no reason. Show offs. That was loud. Holy shit, he actually wrecked? That sounded bad. That sounded like it was right in front of the gas station, only a block or so away. Oh, god, I hope he’s alright. I hope he’s not dead or killed someone else. I would feel bad. Sirens? That was fast. Good, they are on top of it. They sound like they're moving fast. They went right by. Weird. They are moving fast.

That is a horrible scream. It came from the other direction. It ripped through the air like cold with the wind. She needs help. I don’t know who she is but I'm coming. I can help. I can feel the frigid sidewalk trembling through my sneakers. With my legs pumping toward her, I call out. 'I’m on my way. I'm coming!'

She's screaming again. The screams trailed with hints of utter pain and dissolved into a weeping conclusion. I hope I can help her. It sounds like she may be in more trouble than an energetic twenty-something with little background in first aid can help with. I rounded the corner of her block. Not too fast. She is calling for help. It sounds like she's only halfway down the street. I feel I may outrun my own feet.

'Run away!' Wait. I stop. My heart is racing. Run away? I'm waiting. Taking deep breaths, I’m listening. 'Run away! It's too late.'

Run? I'm standing three driveways away. You are serious. I feel like I should say something, but I can't find the words. Something about this situation, the air. Something seems off. I look back. I think of the accident, briefly. She screams. 'No!' It echoes through the air. I pause.

'I-I'm...' Where is my voice. Man up. 'I'm here.'

I begin to walk toward her voice. I am moving very slow. One foot over the other. Quietly. Toe. I'm leading with my right ear. Heal. In position. Toe. Ready for anything. Heal.

'It's too late.' I can hear her sobbing. Sniffling. Cringing in pain. I'm close enough to hear it, too far to know why.

'Do you need help?' I pause. 'I can call 911?'

'No!' The command came from between clenched teeth, without a pause. It bolted throughout the houses and echoed down the street. It was centered with supreme affirmation. Then, there was silence.

I do not know what to do. I feel conflicted. What if she were getting raped? What if it was twenty-five feet from me? What if the rapist had a gun to her head? What if he is directing everything for her to say? What if she ends up dead? It would be because of me. I'd see it on the news. What would Anna think? No one else would know. I would know. I can't. I won't. I have to see. I have to see if she is alright.

'Run! Away!' It almost sounded as if she were pleading. As if she was looking out for me. I can't. Please, let me just make sure. I begin to move toward her. Staying focused on where I heard her. I don't want to give my location away, but I do not want to surprise anyone either. I can hear her in pain, uttering quiet moans and silent grunts. She is not far.   

'I told you to run.' Her speech was juggling between dialog and panting. It came from the carport. I can almost see her. Her Silhouette. It is just her. I missed him.

'Are you alright?' I approach her. She is sitting up against her car just out of the glow of the streetlight. The ground is wet beneath her. I can hear her breathing in small intervals of short, shallow breaths. She says nothing. I'll ask again. 'Hey, are you okay? Is everything okay?’

'You're...' She swallows. 'too...late. I told you.'

I scramble for my cell. 'Are you hurt? Where are you hurt?'

'They...they already got me. You.' She begins to cough. I got my phone but in need of a flashlight. Turn the screen on. '...too late.'

'Who? Who got you? I'm not too late. You're still alive, you are okay.' I have the screen lit up. 'I'll call an ambulance, they're not far. I heard...' I pause as I feel my bones shudder. My gut turns as I point the light toward her. So much blood. I could feel the horror grip my worst thoughts and squeeze the pulp out of my darkest imagination. This can not be real. I feel a stinging sickness take hold of my skin. I now know why the slick concrete lay wet.

'They'll get you too.' Holding her insides in her hands with a sudden calm she whispers, 'run.'

I go to make an argument but I hear a dreadful moan from the other side of the house; or, was it a growl? It doesn’t matter. I activate my internal chicken shit and choose flight. I go to release a soft apology but she interrupts. ‘Just go. Run. Save...yourself.’

Her words trail off with the distance as I start heading back to where I came from. I begin to run, even faster than before. I don’t know what is going on, or why. I do not care. Poor lady. Getting somewhere safe becomes the predominant thought in my head. Ben’s house or my car? I’m standing at the crossroads. I’m halfway between. With a light jog, I start to head toward Ben’s and I hear another scream slice through the air.

‘Noooooo!’ It radiated from just past Ben’s place. It was more of a horrified realization than a plea. My gut tells me to drive. Get to my car. Get away. I turn around. Heading to my car, I decide to call Ben. Panicking. It goes to voicemail.

‘Ben. Ben! Lock your doors, some crazy shit is going down. Listen. Call me as soon as you get this. Don’t wait. I saw a lady, with...with her intestines...they, she, in, uh...’ I struggle with the words. I have to actually analyze what I had seen. ‘Ben...they were in her hands. She was holding them.’ The image flooded my brain. I could see it. They were darker than I had ever thought, purple and veiny. I can’t believe they once all fit inside of her. Poor lady. ‘Ben, I heard another scream close to your place. Make sure...just call me!’ I hang up.

I am almost to my car. I decide to call the police. I don’t know why I didn’t think of that before. Why did I call Ben first? I should call Anna, too. I’m pretty sure all I have is ninety-one dialed as I hear a strong voice boom towards me. ‘Stop.’ I stop. Easy now. I scan my eyes from my phone to the pavement in front of me. From the pavement, I find a shadow and, from that, I find boots attached to a small, older gentleman. I gaze up his figure to see outstretched hands, pointing a handgun. ‘You just stay right there.’ I can hear his southern drawl quiver in his voice. He is not from here.

‘Look, man, I’m just trying to get to my car.’

‘Shut up!’ I stand like a statue. What does he want? I await another command. His hands are shaking. He is scared. ‘How do I know you isn’t one of them?’

‘What do you mean? One of who?’

‘Shut up!’ Why does he keep telling me to shut up?

‘You asked a question, I was jus--’

‘Shut! Up!’ I put my hands up. I don’t know why. I try to look him in the eyes, but all I can focus on is that cannon being tightly held in his grasp. ‘I don’t want any trouble.’

‘Neither do I.’

‘I don’t care what you want. You are not eatin’ me. You hear? I will shoot you dead. Dead!’

‘Please...’

‘I won’t ask you again.’ I can feel my breathing accelerate. I close my eyes as my jaw staggers. He won’t even let me make a case. ‘Now.’ I await instruction. He doesn’t know what to do. Can I make this easier for him. I open my eyes to a blank stare at his feet. Maybe I should kneel on the ground. Please don’t shoot me, please don’t. Please, please. All I can focus on is getting shot. I should have gone to Ben’s. I should have called Anna. ‘I’m gonna count to...three.’ What? ‘And when I get to three, you...’ He pauses. Oh, god, he doesn’t know what he is doing. Oh, no. Don’t. Just don’t shoot me. For god’s sake.

A loud sound cuts the air sounding like a heavy construction site. It comes from behind the gunman. He twists around, turns back and frantically fires his gun, quickly squeezing out a few rounds. The shots blended together;; it was thunderous. I can still hear the echo cracking through the air around me. It reverberates on every surface around.

‘I’m sorry.’ He backpedals away in remorse. ‘Please, forgive me...’ He turns away and mumbles to himself before trotting away. I watch his portrait fade in the distance as I unwillingly drop to one knee. I’m sorry too.

(Part 2)

Neil - The Superstore

It was an overcast day. I found myself power-walking with a programmed sense of urgency through a superstore parking lot. There was a pillar of smoke off in the distance signaling a fire. There were people screaming, close by and from afar, but, like most by that time, I had learned to ignore it. The parking lot was full of cars by only a third and only half of those seemed to be recently attended. Some were still running, some were blocked in and some were damaged, mangled or stripped completely. Lifeless bodies inhabited a few vehicles, but even a partially devoured corpse in that landscape had become normality at this point.

There was a small amount of the living moving about the parking lot. To list a few, there was a mother with her children linked together with her hands, frantically stirring around; a man perched on his car with his head in his hands, lost in his own thoughts, perhaps from an event that had recently taken place; and a small girl standing between cars, misplaced and adrift, pungently hardened by this world and past the point of tears. She just stared straight into my eyes with lifeless intensity like she was not even there. People were begging for help from anyone walking by but, by that time, you viewed it much like you would someone flagging you down on a busy freeway for a ride. I had a mission.

As I began to approach the doorway into the store, a spot of sunlight commenced to break through the clouds and flooded the desolate parking lot with a mocking brightness. The doors were broken and jammed open. Shattered glass from the windows decorated the floor. The mega-store appeared to operate almost regularly, however there was no staff, no electricity, and no order. People were coming and going, arguing, acting as though no one else existed and foraging for food and supplies.

I stood in an open section of the store, between aisles and panned around for a moment or two. I was in search for a pair of cargo pants, some heavy boots and a backpack as well as a weapon or two. I would have found my direction by the sign lying on the floor although I was unsure as to which way the arrow meant to face. I resigned myself to believe that the clothing section was toward the left side of the store and the hunting section towards the back right. Naturally one would start with the weapons, yet, since the grocery section of the store was on my immediate right, I would go left and make my way to the back. Survival in this situation would state to stay clear of the masses and the majority of the people in the store were centered around the grocery portion.

One must always lend an open eye and an open ear. Too many fall victim to the fallacies of misconstrued security. It is the moment that one feels safe that I attribute as the contestant to survival. I have yet to hear a tale of one’s focus, standing in affirmation, portraying a contributing factor of a life-ending event, less, of course, the infamous dumb luck. Sometimes, it is just not in the cards. Keep focus, plan for escape at any moment and keep mindful of your goal. Always have a goal.

I was letting my mind run adrift as I made way past the register aisles to the far side of the massive shop. Though my mind was being set on the important topics of safety, I was lacking cautiousness. Thankfully a sound struck me before it was too late. It reminded me of what I would once discount as innocent as a man’s best friend passing time by gnawing on leftovers but this previously harmless sound became a staple of recognizing danger in present life. If you have yet to adapt to this sound as a signal for becoming stealthy, then you probably have be eliminated already.

The sound was emanating from one of the uninhabited register aisles. Teeth on bone, this is when you must take notice. One false move and you are prey. Everyone alive has become accustom to running, though it leaves distaste for even the most undignified. There is, however, always the option of fight. Still, fighting seems to bring hordes. We do not know why. We just know this to be true. Sometimes the hordes take days to amass but, for some reason, they come. If you dispose of one of the creatures, you must move, unless you incinerate it immediately. As always, your best bet is to go unseen, unheard and undetected.

We do believe that they can smell us. Some theorize that it is the unnatural smell that draws them such as soap, perfume, deodorant and detergent, amongst other things. Some consider it is just the life force that the demons seek to end. Radicals seek faith in the idea that they are here to take this essence of life from us due to envy. No matter the cause, steer clear.

I peered around the counter and to my relief it was actually a random canine chewing on a bone, what luck. I called to it quietly. The dog lifted its head and turned to look at me. It showed its teeth, picked up its bone and trotted off. Animals seemed to have changed. They never act the same anymore. It is almost as if they do not trust humans, even though they can sense a clear difference between us and the turned. Some dogs have stayed loyal to their owners, even in some cases after a transformation, but most had a personality change when the world went to shit. It is as if some sort of survival mode kicked in and took over.

I continued and crossed through the pharmacy area remembering to keep an open eye for any medicine that may still be lying about. I was not very optimistic because medicine, any kind, had become almost as much a currency as advanced weaponry. I may easily find a hunting knife, an axe or even a handgun, but I would be lucky to find a rifle or a shotgun in this store.

I finally made my way to the clothing department. There was hardly any organization left in the heap of linen. After some rummaging, I found a pair of cargo pants in my size. I slowly rose to perch atop a shelving unit for a moment to scope out the area around me for I knew that I may be temporarily putting my safety to inconvenience while I changed my clothes. I heard people faintly across the store and there seemed to be a commotion coming from the grocery side of the superstore but I could not see what it was about. However, I was now fueled by a sudden level of concern. I began to remove my shoes and take off my jeans. When I had gotten one leg off I, thankfully for some reason, looked up.

I found myself staring into the glossy eyes of one of the walkers. For a moment, I could not believe it. Out of all the people in this store and even the disturbance that lay across the building with obnoxious screams echoing from afar, I was the one looking at this creature. It stood about twenty paces away. I gulped as I fixated on its chest pumping up and down as if it were a living, breathing person. My heart started to race. I felt my hands trembling. The cargo pants that were primed to be slipped over my right foot slid from my hands and onto the floor. My eyes felt as if they were deceiving me. I was frozen in place. I was even unable to let out a gasp. It stood arched over, its arms dangling in front, feet a little more than shoulder width apart and mouth hanging wide open.

Time seemed to stand still. The monster was dressed in tattered clothing and poised like a lion ready to pounce but not for the moment. It looked like it used to be a middle-aged man. Short hair, light complexion and even looked to of had a pleasant face. It was positioned to gorge itself on my tender flesh. I was not about to let that happen. I tried to remind myself that it was just one, but focus seemingly slipped out of my current situation, I was down to my boxers, socks, an undershirt and with one foot still wrapped with my jeans. I was not in position to fight.

The rogue being started to click its jaw as if to taunt me. That sound, though heard before, sent shivers down my spine. I rather find myself against ten of these things in an open environment then in my current situation. I felt trapped. I had no escape route. This was one of those situations that you hear about; stories told in refuge, lessons taught through others’ mistakes. I was frightened. I would have to run.

After this monster was finished with its frightful pre-feeding ritual it rolled its shoulders back to a stance of attack. As it lifted its leading foot off the ground, I lifted mine and shook the remainder of my jeans off my foot. It darted toward me, I darted right, the direction that I had first entered the area. Unfortunately, any weapon or supplies I had were left laying on the floor behind me along with my jeans. With the pharmacy, again, in front of me, I took a sharp left.

I might as well of been ice skating. My sharp turn left, on a dusty tile floor, swept my feet right out from underneath me. I slid right into metal shelving at the end of the aisle. The corner met with my hipbone and I felt it tear into my skin however the adrenaline masked the pain pretty well but not well enough. In a flashing-sharp sting I hit the ground, on my knees and wincing in pain. My mind running laps about how I needed to get up and keep moving, but I was momentary paralysed.

The demon quickly decreased the gap between us by about half. Without any further hesitation, I leaped back onto my feet and began my slippery acceleration. I was lacking traction and moving very little compared to the amount of effort being supplied. I felt the presence of impending doom nipping at my feet, and I decided to make a daring maneuver. It had seemed to be my only option since this monster was at full acceleration, and I was lacking heavily on grip. I spun around and grabbed the shirt of the creature right about the center of its chest; then, twisting all my weight through the air and pivoting on my right heel, I used its momentum to swing the creature past me. In that moment I was far closer than anyone would ever wish to be. I was in shorter proximity than I had ever been to one of these vile renditions of man without a proper weapon. I was close enough to see the dim light from the skylights above reflecting off its cloudy eyes. I could even peer at the detail of its receding gum line as it decayed in its mouth. Its arms were waving frantically as if were one mere movement away from the salvation of its starvation, and it was, but to my dismay, the stunt worked out pretty well.

It is worth noting that these creatures have horrible motor functions, but, what they lack in balance and logic, most make it up with endurance, speed and strength. They can keep going and going, at full speed and strength. They never tire, never.

The monster tripped over its own feet and tumbled to the floor about ten paces away from me and slid a good five more feet while the whole time not seeming to notice how close it had been to its goal. As it quickly pulled itself off the ground, I took a moment to rip my socks off. I felt a thin stream of liquid run down my side from my hip to my knee, drop to the floor and splash on the side of my bare foot. It was blood, and I had just been reminded of the throbbing laceration on my hip. My senses were at an all-time high as fear had really began to seep past the overwhelming surge of adrenaline. I was engulfed with fantastic hope that the monster would get distracted by another victim, or that I could outrun it long enough to find a weapon or, at least, some sort of advantage. I took off with all force.

I felt my feet pounding the hard floor step after step as I made my way toward where I thought the hunting department to be. I heard stomping footsteps behind me. It drove me harder; I was afraid to look back. I kept going, pushing and striving. I felt my heart thumping in my chest, my breath in and out with every other stride. I sprinted through the toy section, past the kitchen and bedroom areas. As I passed through the hardware portion of the store, I thought about grabbing a hammer, but, one, I did not know how close my pursuer was and, two, you really do not want to get that close to those things. I believe I had already stretched my luck with my previous ploy. One bite is all it takes.

My guess was correct, and I finally reached the hunting department. I saw the glass, semi-circular display counter where they kept firearms. It still seemed so far away, like viewing a mirage from across a desert. I did not have enough time to stop or even to look and see if there was anything left. I decided to make a loop around the closest aisle. Keeping my speed as much as I could through the turn as I passed through the sporting goods section. I took a tight turn and started to make my way back to the display case. As I made my one-hundred and eighty degree turn, I heard a crashing behind me. My attacker probably lost control trying to take the turn at full speed. I imagined an indycar taking a turn too fast and slamming into a wall. Although, this time it would not burst into flames, the driver would just slam the gas pedal and keep going. However, I remember remaining pleased as that should buy me time.

I refocused on my goal. I sprinted to the display case and attempted a lunge over it. I landed on top, and my body weight cracked the glass on impact. I slid off into the area between, slamming violently shoulder first on the floor. My body was in no regard for injury at the moment. Rolling onto my side and then a knee, I punched my fist into the case reaching for first gun I saw. I was not only happy to find one but to grab ahold of it before I heard my predator approaching again. I darted out through the opening between the counter.

Again, I began to make my loop around one of the aisles bordering between the hunting department and sporting goods section. Once more, the monster took the turn too fast, and I gained some distance. Through my current lap I was able to identify that the weapon I was wielding looked to be a 9mm. When I approached the counter again, I only had time to see where the ammunition was kept.

Darting around the aisle for the third time I decided to make another daring feat for I was beginning to tire. I grabbed a baseball bat with my right hand and turned around in such a way to swing straight through the head of my pursuer. I connected with full force and the monster changed direction as it plummeted into the shelving, knocking various soccer balls, volleyballs, and basketballs all over. I fell on my back a slid a bit, watching the spectacle. Due to the fall, I had dropped my gun. Without hesitation, I jumped to my feet and made my way back toward the display case.

This time I was able to grab a box of ammo that seemed fit for my newly acquired handgun. This is when I realized that I helped slow down the monster, and it was able to make the turn faster than it had before, thus allowing it to accelerate out of it faster. I started my fourth lap around the aisle while trying to locate the weapon that I haphazardly dropped. After spotting it, I made a headfirst baseball slide; I grabbed the gun and jumped to my feet. I started running again. Only this time I had ran toward my attacker, evading with a quick side-step around it and darting straight through to the automotive department. The monster had to turn around, and this would buy me some more time to try to load the gun with ammunition. I was dropping most of the bullets on the floor, but I managed to load three or four. I slammed the magazine into the gun, stopped and turned around. At this point the monster was about twenty-five or so paces away from me. I grasped the gun with both hands and raised it to shoulder level in front of me. I gazed down the barrel with definitive accuracy and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. I pulled it again. I pressed the safety and tried again, nothing. The monster was almost at ten paces. I closed my eyes and I pulled the trigger again, again and again. Then I heard a deafening sound. My ears were ringing and the corpse was lying at my feet with a puddle of blood forming around its head. I finally had a moment to breathe. The moment struck me with a feeling of relief. Then I heard a voice behind me simply state, ‘you forgot to pull the slide.’