05/31/2012 Short Stories
A man explores an airfield. Sees a survivor run about like an idiot. This man's kind of person. They team up. The runner continues to run about. Other men have been murdered here. Eaten. This area scoured. The new friend runs off. The man runs through the woods. The occasional barn is explored. Shambling plague bearers are felled to the earth. A city, seen. New clothing is gained. Shots heard, flight takes place. North. New friends found. Vernon Wells survived the apocalypse. A camp set, supplies distributed. Sleep. New days. Cow! Steak, hamburgers! All for the taking. A new life in the wilderness. Returning to camp. A friend!
Death.
I don't want to leave the cities. Not ready for wilderness. No good at exploring. Nor at navigating. Those I meet are snuck upon. Other survivors wielding Lee enfields are taunted, even if I fire no rounds. All I want to do is rest. Breaks are frequent. Oh, back to the city? That I can manage! We run. I fall behind. One crack. Falling. No more cities for me. All I had was a pistol. I promise.
Flanked by islands of death. A city of bandits. All keep me from those who I travel with. Even from here I know that Nix, Panda and doc have secured the center of Cherno. Occupying a place of honor. I run. Caring not for how the trees hurt. Nor fatigue. Along this trail I hear of other survivors joining up. Of doctors saving the wounded. Strangers not murdering one another. Of a man named Kritz and his two companions, traveling in the west, forsaking banditry for collaboration. Small pieces of humanity, restored.
Cherno before me. A man's body. Precious transfusion kit. A trusty colt. I bury this man, thankful of the supplies he left behind.
Nix guides me. Warns of a stranger with a horde in tow. I've heard tales like this before. The living pursued endlessly. Three plague bearers ignore me. Running as I sit. Around a corner I peer. A man. A horde. This whole city, and we occupy one stretch of road. One factory block. I hide. This man requires more than I. Continuing towards Nix, Panda, doc. A dead man. Lee Enfield in hand.
Finally Nix can see me. I am joined by Kritz! A man falls from the former City Hall, our destination. Panda. Having wished revenge on the murderer of one of his companions. But now laying before Kritz and I. His dying wish that we carry on his mission, and with his supplies. We lay him to rest. "I am sorry."
Neither Kritz nor I have uttered these words. Nor panda. Nor Nix or doc above. A horde engulfs Kritz and I. A man in their midst. Kritz runs to a door way, I to a pipe leading skyward. The dead follow each of us. I battle those that followed. Nix descends to save Kritz. The shamblers feast on the stranger. Others let us know he was called Iron. Another claimed by this world. Nix speaks of an earlier shootout. One man armed with pistol, another Enfield. Mutual ends. We having survived. But how long until death appears. By fellow man, plague bearer, illness no longer treatable, gravity. Its all eventual. Yet tomorrow comes.
Previously:
How we live our lives.