Days of Decay

Chapter Three

 "What's our play here?" Kit whispered as he stood up. His eyes darted from her to their surroundings, trying to pinpoint direction.

"I don't know... find them first, then decide. We don't wanna be outnumbered. We can't put ourselves at serious risk... unless you're in the mood to fight?" Asha said, her narrow stare going to Kit who seemed to be fidgeting more than usual.

He thought for a moment with a wicked smile before shaking his head, mouth dropping. "We can't if there's no chance of winning. Though I do always want to fuck a Hunter up."

Another cry flew around the air, this time followed by unintelligible pleading from a man.

"Did you only bring your axe?" Asha asked, her heart beating a little faster now.

"Yeah, I didn't think we'd run into trouble. We haven't for weeks," he shrugged, looking a little frustrated.

"It'll have to do," she said, twisting her bag to her front and inspecting the inside. "I've only got my knives," she sighed, annoyed.

"Is this a good idea?" Kit asked, suddenly seeming worried.

"When do we ever have good ideas?" Asha grinned. "I got you," she said holding her hand out to him to shake.

"I got you back," he said, taking her hand and shaking it with muster.

The first thing they needed to do was find out exactly where the screams were coming from. It seemed simple enough, but with English, terraced housing and countless alleyways, the puzzle became harder to solve.

They walked with pride; calmly, chins held high and hands absolutely not ready to attack. If there were Hunters around, they had to at least try and fool them. To them they'd be just a couple of fellow cannibals wandering the streets for their next meal. Although, how that helped with a plan to rescue the poor people, Asha really wasn't sure. All she knew was that they needed to get to them, for any hope of their survival.

They followed the ever-increasing yells with vigilant ears, their search finally coming to halt where the road broke into a crossroads. Asha caught a glimpse of a man kneeling on the tarmac, his face was puffy and crimson; she could see the tears dripping from his chin as he looked upwards. Her view was blocked from the rest of the scene by trees and buildings, so she located the nearest house that overlooked the crossroad and ran silently to the front door. There was too much chance of getting caught if they made noise, so she knelt down and pulled out the twisted hairpin from her bra and worked it through the keyhole.

Time wasn't on her side and as the cries became frantic, breathy and almost accepting of death; she could feel herself beginning to sweat. She whipped off her sunglasses and held her ear up to the keyhole, niggling the pin until it clicked open the lock.

A child's plea for help invaded her ears and her heart stopped.

Asha twisted the door handle and flung it open before racing on tiptoes through the house towards the living room to look to the road. The house itself stank of mould and damp; she averted her eyes from the family photos scattered around.

The scene through the large bay window played out before her. A mother, a father, a daughter; death. There were four Hunters. They looked manic, and even though their clothing covered every inch of them, their manner gave enough away. What looked like the leader was pacing joyfully around the family who were all sat in a line trembling on their knees.

The survivors had no weapons. The mother looked like she'd taken a severe beating, far more than what the father looked like and the younger girl... her hair stuck to the side of her face with red. Hunters were much like cats toying with their food before finally putting them out of their misery. It was the enjoyment that got Asha the most; she could see one of the Hunter's shoulders bouncing up and down while another pointed and threw their head back in response. They were laughing at them. Blood boiled in her. How had humanity come to this? Humanity had become a joke.