Days of Decay

Chapter Two

Now

The stains on the wooden floor had been the hardest to scrub out.

It was only the second time she'd been back in the last six months. The remnants of dark red blood still taunted Asha, showing her that nothing had changed since she left the place. She knew it wouldn't have magically disappeared, but some part of her wished that it had. She stared, standing like a statue in the room, the mid-morning sun gracing her face, warming her skin even though she was icy to the touch.

She didn't cry. She couldn't anymore.

Nox had hardened her fragility, turning her into an unfeeling being, stalking the earth for no reason other than to survive. That's what it felt like. There were no parties, no celebrities to insta-stalk, no viral videos to watch. She had no purpose, no-one did.

The virus ended everything Asha knew. The only explanation they ever got was that it was a biological warfare attack. But they never found out where it had come from, only that it was worldwide and all consuming. She found it unsurprising that the world managed to kill itself through its obsession with war. Letting half-brains and power-hungry trust fund kids into government was the single worst mistake mankind made, and now they were paying for it; those who were left behind at least.

Fucking idiots.

Nox was a horrible way to go. If you contracted it naturally, you suffered a painful flu for three days until your insides began to seep out of every orifice. 60% of the global population experienced that horrific fate.

Around 20% of people were naturally immune to the biological compounds of the virus.

And the rest of civilisation turned into Hunters – highly intelligent, psychotic, cannibalistic, vampire-esque people -, a pleasant new addition to the already fucked up planet.

It seemed that only the strong adults became Hunters, whereas the weaker population, like the elderly and children, got wiped out. It was some sort of sick natural selection.

Everything happened so quickly that it was impossible to contact anyone. Radio and TV broadcasts still ran for a few days after the initial onslaught, but they couldn't say more than it was a global event and everyone should be with their loved ones; hardly helpful for Asha who had witnessed and participated in killing those she loved.

A sudden sound from outside drew her attention. She raised her knife, jaw clenched. Her glare stayed hardened at the open doorway.

3, 2, 1.

She breathed a small sigh of relief as a spindly fox eventually emerged into view. She rolled her eyes before striding through the kitchen and to the window overlooking the garden.

The final resting place of her family.

Their graves were still protruding; the crosses Asha had put as the headstones remained strong. So much had happened since burying them, it was hard to comprehend that she'd experienced it all without her family by her side.

Her eyes eventually set on her father's mound. She could forgive him for what he'd done, it wasn't his fault he got sick.

As she gazed blankly out of the window, a tall, faceless figure hopped over the back fence of her garden.

The only saving grace of the whole end-of-the-world thing was the fact that Kit was immune like her.

He jogged across the grass, his whole body and face covered with clothing, until he reached the backdoor where he promptly took off his motorbike helmet and slammed it angrily onto the table next to him.