The Diseased

Change

We walked for the entire night through a damaged city. The Diseased were inside, for some reason afraid of the dark, but I could see their pale faces, their hallow eyes staring at me, following me as I walked through the almost deserted street. Both men, who hadn't spoken to me since we left my room, walked on my sides, and I felt happy for that. Everywhere, my body ached, and I instinctly knew that if it came to a struggle, I wouldn't be able to protect myself like I used to. I lifted my hands, and could see bruises everywhere. I wasn't complaining, though. I was alive, and that was more than I'd hoped for at this time. Then again, perhaps having a life like the Diseased would be quite all right. The world I knew was gone, all scientists having gotten the Disease, and there was no way we could reverse things. We had to survive, but for what?

I knew these thoughts were dangerous, because they could get me killed. Yet I couldn't help thinking, looking into the eyes of one of the Diseased standing behind a broken window, those large, hallow and empty eyes, that perhaps, not caring wasn't so bad after all. But then, something broke behind me, and I heard a scream. Instinctly, I ran, ran the other way, away from the danger. It's what had kept me alive. When I looked back, both men had responded like I had, but they had run towards the danger. Or, perhaps, toward the screams. I went after them, the thought of a safe haven to tempting to leave behind. Those two men were my only option for safety.

I followed them into an alley, running, and then, I stopped. My eyes, or better, my brain, was still processing the image, but my body had already stopped, due to years of experience in this damn world. Something had changed, something terrible.