Embrace The Madness: Cataclysm

7. Dust

[day 34]
The corpse aimlessly wandered through the desolate street as its head drooped downwards, like it was sleepwalking. Its skin sagged and wrinkled like old fruit and its clothes were on the brink of falling off.
A noise from behind caught the attention of the cadaver, and it turned with a harsh growl, before having its head pierced with a blade.

"Alright, let's move" Patrick whispered, as he was followed by rose and Oliver.

Through the dusty cars and littered street, the trio snuck through the street, keeping their heads low and their weapons ready.
In each of their arms, they carried a duffel bag each full of supplies and food. Maybe 'full' was an overstatement, but it's the best that they could find.

"The car's just up there" he pointed towards the end of the road, which had no sign of the dead.

It was a straight shot towards the car and they dashed for it.
Zooming past the cars and occasional body, the three ran like cheetahs, the bags sometimes slipping from their shoulder, making them adjust it again.

They came to a halt when a group of about seven of the dead emerged from the corner. They didn't seem to notice the three, but just to be sure, Rose locked onto a door which was open ajar.

"In here!" She hissed, ushering Patrick and Oliver inside. She followed and quickly but quietly shut the door behind her.

The room was a first floor apartment. It seemed the owners had left in a hurry, clothes and family photos were still dotted around the place.
Oliver used his hatchet to slowly move the curtain aside. The dead had surrounded the car and weren't moving anytime soon.

"Fuck" he whispered, looking away and slumping himself onto the white leather sofa.
Rose and Patrick did the same.

They sat there on the sofa, arms crossed and weapons placed on the table, including Patrick's knife and Rose's machete.

Minutes felt like hours and their fear and adrenaline soon became boredom. Patrick stared up at the ceiling and his mind quickly thought of sam. He wasn't content, but he came to terms with the fact that she was gone and there was nothing he could do about it. Another side of his inner psyche reminded him that everyone had lost someone close to them and that he wasn't being targeted.
Despite all that, there was still that small voice inside him saying 'I miss you'.

"Right" Oliver exclaimed, slapping his knees, "I'm gonna go snoop"

"What?" Patrick was so dumbfounded by the comment that he sounded as if he had just woken up.

"Snooping..." Oliver repeated, lifting his arms up in front of him. He let out a sigh, "scavenging" he said, "geez, you try to have fun around here" he mumbled that last part under his breath.

Patrick exchanged an odd look with Rose as Oliver proceeded to search the cabinets.

"Well, I mean.. they don't need it anymore" said Rose.

Patrick thought for a short while, then agreed, tilting his head.
They got up from the sofa and began scouring the house, their weapons in their hands in case of any threats.

Patrick found himself in a tight corridor, his knife held up to his chest. He came up to a door, which was painted white, like the walls.
He pressed himself against the wall and reached out to turn the handle.
As the door creaked open, Patrick was struck with a foul stench. He turned his head and gagged, holding the back of his hand to his nose.
His face was wrinkled up as he slowly peered further into the room.

The space was mainly white, the only difference in colour being the dark brown laminated wood flooring. He saw a small bed in the corner of the room, and the noise that came from it was haunting.
It was an elderly woman, or the remains of one of you will.
Patrick never got over the fact of corpses moving, watching in utter despair as the small, frail, grey skinned corpse turned its head with a kind of wheeze. The bones and dried blood cracked as it moved. It seemed that it was far too weak to move, almost as if it had given up.
Knife in hand, he readied himself to kill the corpse.
He halted, hesitated as its hand slowly reached towards him. It wasn't even like it wanted to grab him, rather just wanting to touch him.
A tear formed in Patrick's eye, the ghoul reminded him of his grandmother.
The knife slid through its skull, Patrick's body now overpowering his mind.