The Calling of Time

Author's Note: I'm normally as soft and cute as a bunny rabbit, but my story is copyright, so if you steal it and pretend it's yours, I will come down on you like the hammer of Thor. Thanks, have a nice day!

The food was running out.

I stood in the pantry staring at the dusty shelves, grim reality setting in. The electricity had been gone for weeks now, and the water I’d saved in the bathtub was getting low. It was only a matter of time, and then I’d have to leave the house and find a new place.

My eyes were glassy as I stared at the last of the canned food, and I hugged myself. Cold comfort in the face of the reality that was setting in. I wished desperately for my parents, and the familiar biting pain of guilt gnawed at my stomach.

The three of us had barricaded the doors and windows when the soul suckers had first started appearing, when the bodies began to pile up. I could still remember the look on Dad’s face when the TV news reports stopped. He stood in the center of the living room, hands on his hips, the blue screen reflecting off his face and casting his features into shadow. He was silent for a long time after that, and I didn’t realize it at the time, but now I knew. Reality had set in…the apocalypse was in motion. The world was coming to an end.

I tried to shove the guilt down into the pit of my stomach, to force it into a small, cold ball that I could ignore. I was getting better at it, but it was still hard. I told myself over and over that when the soul suckers broke down the door, Dad had screamed at me to run. I’d been in the kitchen, the monsters hadn’t known I was there. There was no way I could have saved my parents. I would have died with them.

But no, not died. That wasn’t right, was it? The soul suckers didn’t kill you. It was far worse than that.

I took down one of the packages of beef jerky, trying not to think about my parents wandering out there somewhere, shuffling through the ruins of the city like zombies. Soulless.

The plastic package crinkled loudly in my grip as I squeezed it, grinding my teeth. Tears were burning my eyes now. Every day I had to fight the urge to go outside and try to find them. Every day I reminded myself that they had stared at me blankly when I’d run to them. They didn’t know who I was anymore. They didn’t know who they were anymore.

Three weeks. That’s how long it had been.  I’d counted down the days since then. I couldn’t help it, each day had been an eternity since I’d watched my parents wander out the door, glassy eyes and stumbling. Wandering aimlessly away, leaving me behind. Somehow it was worse than them dying. Like they’d just given up. Abandoned me.

The guilt surged and my breath hitched, making me choke. Tears slipped, making hot track down both cheeks and onto my throat. How could I think that about my parents? I was the one who’d skulked in the attic and watched it happen, too scared to come out and fight.

I ripped into the package and stared at the beef jerky. It was unappetizing, but my stomach was growling insistently. The candle on the shelf beside me flickered as I moved, and long shadows jumped across the walls of the cramped storage room.

I picked up the candle holder and tucked the package of jerky under my arm. The pantry door creaked as I pushed it open.

Another noise near the front of the house made me pause, heart crowding up into my throat. The candle’s light jumped wildly as my hand shook. I tried to stay still and listen for the noise again. Sometimes the soulless bumped into things. Or the stray dogs that wandered in packs would try to tear into someone’s trash bins. That had to be it.

Soul suckers wouldn’t break into the same house twice, would they?

That was the thing, I didn’t know much about them. Oh, I knew what they looked like alright. I felt sick just thinking about it. But I really had no idea how they hunted…if they returned to the same hunting grounds again. If they even had any conscious thoughts…