Standing out on a balcony, a woman stares up into the night sky. The clouds going their own way and leaving the moon to its watchful gaze. A crisp breeze blows, the woman's coat barely doing anything to counter it. This cold night continues, just as they always have.
But as she glances back inside, she feels the warmth of the people she has come to know and love. A man with shaggy beard and unkempt hair walks out onto the balcony with her. As their eyes meet he smiles warmly.
"Are you going to come back inside Lace?" he asks, "we have some soup waiting for ya."
"In a little bit, I just want to watch the sky right now," she says, "you know, Robert, the way everything changed these past few years, I never thought I'd ever find a place to call home again."
"Home? We've been out wandering for weeks, wouldn't exactly say we have found anywhere to settle down yet."
"Well, not in the literal sense," she says, "home is where you spend time with the people you love, and no matter where I am, as long as I'm with you all…it's home."
"You always did look at things with rose colored glasses," the man says, "ehh, I didn't mean nothing by it. It's just been rough out here."
"I know, I know," she nods.
Lace and Robert lean against the railing, looking down below, with what feels like the entire city below them. The city years ago had been lively and bright, but now it lies darkened by plague and the horrible deeds of the survivors.
The shapes of the…others can sometimes be seen wondering around down there in the shadows, are they truly gone, or are they just lost? Rob shakes his head.
"Maybe I'm losing my damn mind," he says, "I keep thinking about the lost ones down there."
"What about 'em?" Lace asks.
"Sometimes I just wonder if they're truly gone, or maybe they're just trapped inside," Rob says, "I know it's foolish, but I wonder if we could ever reason with them again…they can learn, after all."
Lace squints at the streets below.
"Maybe they're just wayward, sons and daughters of God who lost their way," Lace says, "they're just sick, is all."
A scoff comes from behind the pair.
"They're already dead, and you damn well know it," a gruff man with red hair says, "stow that shit, it'll get you killed."
The red haired man walks up to the pair.
"Remember what happened to Neil?"
Robert gulps as he nods, and Lace just looks down at her feet.
"Thomas I-"
"You've been in this shit too long, maybe you are losing your damn minds," Thomas says, "now get back inside, eat before your shit spoils."
The pair go back inside to sit with their other friends and rest, for they have a long day ahead of them.
As the first rays of the sun make their sprawl across the city, Thomas stands the door to the tall building. He peers out around each side of the cluttered street, as he steps out he is followed by Robert and several others. The cars crowding the street have long been defunct and abandoned, much like many of the buildings. They have become home to various plant and animal life, the city dead to humans, has been claimed by nature.
Thomas hops up onto the roof of a car, looking out and around.
"You see that shit? You see that shit?" he cries out, pointing down the street, "they chased that thing right in there!"
Robert climbs up on the car as well, just in time to see several figures darting into an abandoned store. Unearthly sounds coming from within, heard even from this distance.
"Chased what?"
"Looked like a dog or something."
"No way in shit am I going over there," Thomas says as he goes to scout down the other side of the street.
The rest of the group follows as Thomas signals them, each wary and keeping a watchful eye on their surroundings. They've all seen what happens to those who get careless.
After traveling a few blocks, their goal comes in sight, the harbor. Lace stops and peers out, the few boats that are left do not seem to be in any condition to be used.
"Are you sure this is going to work?" Lace asks, "we kinda need a boat if we're going to sail to the islands."
"We'll worry about that when we get there," Thomas says, "for now, we just need to focus on getting there in one piece."
They walk down the street, trying to stay away from all the busted up cars. As the street widens into an intersection, the group spreads out, covering as much ground as possible.
Squeek, squeeeek
Robert shuffles over to a van, the sound coming from underneath it. He exhales deeply as he listens, and as he is about to stand several small furry things come rushing out from under the van.
Squueeeee! Squueeeeee!
Robert chuckles as the rats disperse out into the street. Just a few fucking rats he thinks as he turns.
Before he can take a step forward, something shoots out from under the van. His ankle being squeezed as it feels like he it is being put into a vice grip. His step is interrupted, and he cries out as his leg is pulled up and out from under him.
Robert hits the ground hard, the force of landing on the concrete burning through his arms and elbows and shooting up through him. As he rolls over he tries to crawl away.
"Shit! Shit!"
A yellowed, gnarled hand wraps around his ankle, squeezing and pulling. The long nails just starting to cut into his jeans and working their way into the extra pants underneath. As the creature comes crawling out, Robert lets out another scream.
It howls as it snaps its jaws at the unfortunate man's legs. It's long hair flopping down onto the ground, it's eyes a filmy yellow, and bloodshot underneath. It's teeth yellow, black, and other unnatural colors. Rat flesh and fur caught in between its teeth and the fresh blood dripping down its maw.
The creatures ribs show as it crawls it tries to stand, but before it can do so a boot slams into its head. Thomas wraps his hand on the back of its head and slams its face into the concrete, all the while sitting on its back and holding its shoulders down with his knees. It lets go of Robert and flails and hisses as Thomas holds it down.
"You see this shit? Do you see this shit?" Thomas yells, "hey Robert, this looks like a reasonable piece of shit, eh?"
The beast clacks its teeth together and Thomas lowers his arm towards its mouth. It's eyes widen as it starts to gnaw on his thick leather coat, but along with the duct tape and the second thick, denim shirt underneath, no teeth are getting through there.
"Excuse me, can you stop trying to freaking eat me?" Thomas says as the thing continues to try to chew on his arm, "excuse me, that really hurts my fucking feelings!"
Thomas pulls his hammer out of his belt loop, pointing at Lace, Robert, and a couple of others.
"You should have learned this years ago," Thomas says, "they can't be reasoned with, they're not human anymore. Don't lose your damn minds, they already have. They're already dead!"
Thomas brings down his hammer, each word of his next sentence being enforced by a strike.
"They're….not…us….any….more!"
Thomas huffs as he throws the hammer aside and steps off the infected, its face beaten in and turned to a red, gooey mess.
"Clean off my hammer," he instructs someone.
"Shit." He says as he continues on his way.
The day wanes as the group make their way towards the docks. Lace looks around, they'll have to find a place to stay for the night, it's getting too dark to try and find a boat now.
"Do you hear that?" Thomas says.
"Hear what?" Robert asks.
"I think I can hear a bell ringing."
"Nope," Robert says, "I think you're the one losing your mind now."
Thomas ignores this and continues with what he is doing. Several members of the group work to remove some bits of debris away from the alley.
"Why don't we just go around?" Lace asks.
"Trust me," Thomas says, "this will be quicker."
"I don't agree," Carlos, a generally quiet man, says.
"It'll be quicker if we just find a way around," Lace says.
Thomas glances at Lace before looking back to the large pile of debris.
"Shit," he says, "think you're right Lace."
"By now, we could probably climb over it," Robert says as he clambers up the pile.
The man stops halfway up, peering back through the alley. A can rustles as something stumbles across the alley opening. The dark figure disappearing behind a wall.
Robert climbs back down the pile, exchanging a glance with Thomas.
"The rest of you," Thomas says, "get over this debris and find somewhere to hunker down for the night, we'll find you."
Carlos grabs his rifle and nods to Thomas.
"I'll go with you guys, just in case."
"Be careful," Lace says.
"We will," Robert nods.
"Not sure if that was one of 'em," Carlos says, "wouldn't they have just tried to trap us with our backs to the pile?"
"Not if it was by itself," Robert says, "now shhh…"
The trio creeps around the building, the darkening sky looming overhead.
"Maybe it ran off," Carlos whispers, "could be anywhere."
Tiing…tiing….tiing
"I hear it again," Thomas says, "a fucking bell."
"I hear it too," Robert says.
Carlos points down by the water.
"It's coming from over there!"
The trio squint across the street, and down by the water a figure stands. The pale moonlight revealing dirty and matted hair, and a pale blue jumpsuit. This all becomes recognizable as the three get closer.
"Give me that," Thomas points to the rifle, "I'm a better shot than you."
"What?" Robert says, "you're not crazy are you? Those freaks could pop out from anywhere."
"It's just a precaution, Rob."
Carlos nods and hands Thomas the rifle.
"Looks like it's just one." Thomas whispers as he kneels near a car.
Tiing…tiing….tiing….
The sound comes from somewhere in the darkness….but behind the trio this time.
"What the fuck…."
Tiing…tiing…tiing…
This time from in front. The figure standing by the water slowly turns, and makes its way toward the group. It's head looking down at its feet, a small bell in one of its hands.
Tiing….tiing…tiing…
The whole time, Thomas circles around, making his way in between a couple of cars. Here he has a clear shot on whoever this is.
Robert and Carlos walk forward.
"Hey strangers," the figure says, "bad time of night to be out…for you any way."
Robert gulps…this man does not sound like he is all there.
"Same could be said for any of us," Robert says, "the real question is, what are you doing out here?"
"I couldn't help but notice your friends heading over yonder," he points in the direction of the harbor.
"Wouldn’t suggest letting them do that," he says, "the area's all flooded. Entire streets over flown, houses…buildings. Those things swim too you know…I've seen it."
The man smirks at this last bit. Robert's hand rests on his belt, near a large knife tucked away. Carlos spreads his hands out, and takes a step to the side. The demented man's eyes dart towards him.
"Easy there, young 'un," he says, "I'm not here to hurt anyone."
Thomas leans, the rifle resting against his shoulder. Very carefully he takes aim at the man, waiting for any move that even remotely looks threatening. Honestly would have been better to just stand over there and shoot him in the face, if anything.
Glancing behind him, Thomas sees a something in the middle of the street. One lone infected woman, laying on the ground, a sick gouge in her heart.
Just another corpse, Thomas shrugs his shoulders, their new…acquaintance probably stabbed it.
Something…no someone emerges from the shadows. Steps ever so soft he creeps up behind Thomas. His pale blue jumpsuit speckled in the blood of the lost, and his hat covering his dirty matted hair.
The long pole hook in his hands is slicked in the blood of the infected woman in the street, and he slowly raises it as he stands behind Thomas…
Robert takes a step to the side, his hand now resting on the handle of his knife. Neither he or Carlos notice the strap along the strange man's shoulder. The man takes a step back and glances down the street.
Thomas peers down the rifle and-
A white hot pain shoots through him as something slides into his shoulder, and he drops the rifle as he is yanked back.
"Aaaarh!" Thomas cries as the rifle is kicked away from him.
Robert, Carlos, and the man glance down the street as Thomas screams. Robert lunges forward, his knife raised, but the man hops back, sliding a long, slender shotgun from behind his back, the sling coiled around his hand.
"Don't make any more moves," he says, "either of you. Guess you couldn't see my little toy too well in the dark, huh?"
Thomas grips his wound as the man who struck him kneels down. His face twisting into horror as he beholds the man's face…patches of skin cover it, stitched together and sporting the jaundiced and dirty skin of the infected. Sick eyes peer into Thomas' as the man looks out from his mask.
He grabs Thomas and hoists him up….
