Last Dawn of a Horde

Chapter Eleven: The Final Assault ~1 John

~John~

The attic was smelling of old wood--the kind of smell when you don't really pay attention on how furnitures get old. Of course the wood will decay.

Except for the fact it's so hyperbolical to say we're like pigs getting stuffed like sardines, what made the whole attic uncomfortable was the small window. The only window. We've opened it wide enough, but no cool air comes.

James threw the blankets to a corner, insisting it was stupid enough for someone to use them here unless you want a hyperthermia. Or maybe sweaty clothes.

Miguel looked like a downer. "We didn't know it'll get hot like this here."

"So, what, you want to transfer, guys?" Jimmy asked. I didn't notice him earlier. He was wrapped up on a thin blanket near the trapdoor leading down.

Hiding his face under a pillow, James said, "Enough with those transferring issues. I want to rest."

Jimmy ignored him, and re-wrapped himself again quickly like a caterpillar eager for metamorphosis. Yeah, he's comparable to those creatures now. He needs to change.

But that doesn't mean I get to a side.

I didn't see Jules anywhere here. The transmitter was situated on the other end of the attic, amongst the other dusty boxes and chests. Now I got a strong feeling Jules had been here.

I haven't seen him after dinner, that guy. A boy with strong determination. I don't envy him, or got mad, either. I just had a feeling I had to remove all the necessities of talking to him for a while. He's been under so much.

He's not here.

While I rest my head over my forearm, I stare at the attic's ceiling. It would've been empty if spiders hadn't filled it with their cobwebs. The only light inside the attic was a hanging lightbulb dangling on the center of the ceiling. I resist the urge to kill the lights, because I really can't sleep with lights on, unless I'm really tired to notice things around.

So that means I can't shut off my mind for a while.

The thought of zombies lurking outside the Guns' residence's tall, sturdy walls almost made me jump to my feet. I hadn't moved on with a sudden trauma about them.

Zombies.

Well, it was weird, but I can't stop thinking about them. They were so many--some were walking miles from here, some were resting on the abandoned St. Joseph's University, and many had incorporated themselves in the heart of the city--but yet, they were still pragmatic to me. Their existence, how their minds work, why no one had made an antidote were unclear to me.

Suddenly, James took the pillow off his face. He gasped. "I can't breathe."

I elbowed him. "You shouldn't have talked so rudely. To Jimmy."

He rolled his eyes. "Maybe do that to him sometimes."

"So you're after Jules?"

James shakes his head. "I'm after no one. Like you."

I grinned. There was no doubt this guy was my best friend. I told him about my running thoughts about my growing curiosity for the cannibal creatures inhabiting the earth slowly. I told him all my thoughts about my swelling suspicion we're getting no safer.

And the signal was Sam.

James curled up. "You're one strange student, John," he told me. "You think too much. But that's neither good or bad."

"Look, I'm just fearing about us," I replied. "I hate to say this, but I'm kind of getting Jimmy's point."

"So you want to quit living here, and return to our usual life?" James said, "Of getting our necks near the blade?"