I was too scared to turn any lights on. I didn’t want to attract any attention. I grabbed a flashlight off my dad’s work bench and carefully made my way into the house. I went into my bedroom and glanced out the window. The world appeared to be the same as any other night. The sky was lit by the full moon and stars sparkled everywhere. I could hear night noises and the scene was comforting. I stood at the window and listened to something in the far distance. A dull sound echoed in the night. I had heard the sounds only minutes ago. I unlocked my window and lifted it open a few inches. I turned my ear towards the window and listened carefully. Screams traveled on the wind right into my very room. I slammed my window shut and locked it. I realized I was all alone here and I couldn’t help but shake with utter fear.
Day 8:
I did not sleep well, I tossed and turned. Everytime I started to drift off nightmares filled my dreams. A handsome young man was calling out to me. He needed me to help him but I couldn’t reach him. He kept screaming my name. “Layla, Layla! Help me! Help us!” He was lying in a bed and he was trapped. He was dying and he needed my help. He was reaching for me and I tried to take his hand but no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t reach him. Darkness closed in around me.
I sat up in bed and saw I was covered in sweat. I told myself it was a nightmare but it felt real. He felt real.
Day 10:
I’m not going to pretend I was some kind of fearless and brave teenager. To be honest I was terrified to leave my house. The past couple days I had been hiding away inside my home. I stayed busy adding supplies to the stockpile in the basement. I took inventory and had calculated that I had a two year supply of food and water. If I was careful I could stretch it out longer.
My parents bought our home on the mountain when I was a baby. The house was over sixty years old. They made improvements over the years and added onto the original house. They also put a big addition on the backside when I was twelve. The newer part of the basement is where we kept the stockpile of supplies. My dad was insanely crazy about the world going up in flames or viruses being released into the world. He built a bunker off the basement. It was actually really cool. The bunker was hidden behind a huge metal shelving unit in the back of the basement. The bunker wasn’t huge but it was livable. I used to be scared of the bunker. The thought of living underground sounded awful. I really wished my parents were here with me. My dad always told me he would keep me safe but here I was all alone.
The bunker was open concept with a couch and coffee table in one corner. The kitchen area with table and chairs was in another corner. There were bookshelves filled with all my favorite authors. A desk loaded with all the essentials to stay busy. There was a small bathroom and bedroom off from the kitchen area. There was a radio station with every kind of radio you could imagine. Unfortunately I couldn’t remember how to use most of them. My dad showed me how to use them when I was young but I thought he was crazy so I didn’t pay attention. I mean how many families had bunkers in their basements?
I knew I would need to make another trip into town for more supplies. I also needed to go back to the police station and get lots of weapons. I didn’t know what the people had become or what was really happening out there but I did know they were sick. They could run really fast and they screamed all night long. I could hear them all the way up on the mountain.
It was seven a.m. and the sun was on the rise. I’d been listening at my bedroom window for the past few nights. The screams went away once the sun came up. I was guessing the night screamers only came out at night. I thought that would be a good name for them. “Night screamers,” seeing they came out at night and screamed like a banshee all night long. I also couldn’t help but wonder if there were more people like me out there. I couldn’t be the only one left that wasn’t sick.
Ever since I woke up from the sickness I noticed I was different too. My eyes were still blue and my skin color was normal. I also didn’t run around all night screaming my head off. There was something else that was different about me though. I could feel it inside me, a pulling or nagging feeling. I was also thirsty all the time for water. I’d been consuming gallons per day and I never felt truly satisfied. I thought about all these things on my way into town. I wrote a mental list of all the things I needed to do while in town. I searched through my father’s desk at home and found a spare set of keys to the station.
The ride to town was familiar and everything felt normal until I pulled into town. The town looked like a tornado swept through it.The storefront windows were broken and there was trash blowing around everywhere. The odor was overbearing and thick in the air. I strolled into the store and was shocked to see all the rotting produce gone. The meat section looked like a pack of wolves had torn it apart. A few crumbs scattered on empty trays were all that remained in the bakery display cases. Something had been here and whatever it was had destroyed the town. Strangely all the dry goods were still intact on the shelves. I filled shopping carts full with food. I loaded everything into the back of truck and then proceeded to the police station. The station appeared to be in the same condition. The only difference inside was a strong odor that lingered in the air. I walked down the hallway to the weapons room. My dad was the chief of police. I had grown up roaming the halls of this small town station. My mom was the secretary at the station. She worked at a small desk by the front entrance. This place was a second home for me. I used my dads keys to unlock the door to the weapons room. The room was fully stocked. My knowledge of weapons was limited to handguns and rifles. My dad used to take me out to one of the fields on our land and we would target practice. I was pretty good with the Ruger LC9 and the Glock 43. My favorite was the Remington 700. I started loading the guns; Glock 19’s, Glock 22’s, Smith & Wesson M&P 9, Beretta Model 92’s, Remington 870 Shotguns, Colt M4 Carbine and other weapons like taser guns, bullets and pepper spray. It was better to be safe than dead.
I loaded all the guns into duffle bags and exited the room. I started for the exit when I heard a strange banging noise coming from down a different hall. I put the bags down and grabbed the Glock 43. I loaded the gun and cautiously made my way down the hall towards the banging noise. I came to the end of the hall and stood in front of a door that stated, “Holding Cells,” in bold black letters. I jingled through the keys until I found the right fit. I entered into another hallway with six different holding areas. It was dark in the hallway. There was little light emerging from the exit signs above the door.The first thing I noticed when I entered the hall was the odor, it was foul. It was a mixture of rotting flesh, skunk and dog shit. I’d never smelt anything so repulsive, it was awful and burnt my nostrils. I turned to leave the hallway but stopped when a banging sound hit the door next to where I was standing. I jumped back and turned to face a pale grey eyed man. I was startled and screamed like a little girl. The only thing protecting me from the grey eyed man was a glass door. I was guessing the door was shatter and bulletproof. The man smashed into the door but the door stood strong. I wanted to turn and run but I was frozen, staring at him. I quickly realized the odor was coming from him. Even the thick door couldn’t keep out the rancid odor. Blood poured out of a huge cut in his head. I took a step toward the door. He glared into my eyes and I couldn’t help think how dead he appeared.