The Day The World Ended | ONC 2024 LONGLISTER

3| primal instinct

Scorched bodies lay everywhere among the wreckage of a town that used to house so many people just an hour ago. Skyscrapers hadn't survived the deadly sun, tops smoking and charred. Some of the small buildings had survived—their walls were blackened but they were still standing. Rubble covered the streets, the stench of burning flesh acrid in the evening air. 

Simon, Novah and Mellie kept running hand in hand, the rest of the survivors also running around like headless chicken. Simon wanted to find an intact grocery store or whatever place that still held edible things. He was not stupid to believe the world would go back to normal and all of them go back to playing happy family. They had to get their hands on everything they could. People will not stay confused for too long.

Novah tugged at his hand. "There! There's one!"

Mellie stifled a gag as they stepped over corpses that were in various stages of being crushed or burnt to stumble to the shattered glass doors of a small convenience store. A part of the ceiling had crashed and that side was a smouldering mess. 

"Put everything you can in your bags," Simon ordered, letting go of their hands.

Novah ran off, unzipping her bag and dumping her books on the floor. With a shaky inhale, Mellie followed suit. Novah stacked everything in her bag. There wasn't much left, most were burnt or crushed. Metal still felt hot to the touch. Sweat plastered the short strands of her hair to her neck and forehead. She was getting used to the burning smell that hung in the air but she felt like throwing up every time she spotted a corpse from the corner of her eyes.

It seemed that, outside, people had shaken off their initial panic and shock of seeing the world in ruins. They were running around; some in groups, some alone. Novah ignored them and went on to grab whatever she could, Mellie trailing closely behind. She could see Simon moving through aisles. 

"Do you think we can go home?" Mellie asked in a quiet voice, fingers tugging her blonde locks.

"Huh?" Novah said, not quite paying attention.

"Do you think we can go back? Do you think our families are alive?"

Novah avoided her hopeful eyes and stared at the label of a pack of cookies. She hated to break it to Mellie but she honestly did not think their families had survived. There was a shred of hope inside her, maybe if they were in a safe enough place...

Novah blinked back the tears stinging her eyes and turned her back to the blonde girl. "I don't know. Let's not be too optimistic."

"What else can we do other than hope?" Mellie's voice shook. "Everyone is dead but some could have survived, right? There's no way everyone is dead, right?"

Novah ignored her and continued to walk along the rack, wiping her sleeve across her nose. She dumped everything she could into her bag as if she was in a trance.  There were water bottles, packets of biscuits, cheese and other small things that looked edible enough. 

"I'll—I'll go find what Simon had got," Mellie muttered before shuffling off in his direction, leaving Novah to stare at the food in her bag.

Novah sat down on the floor, crossing her legs under her and pulled out her phone. She tried to call her mother, or father or even her grandmother who always forgot where she put her phone. Novah had always joked that her grandmother's phone was not a mobile phone but a land phone. 

There was no signal. She couldn't even send a message. Novah bent until her head touched her knees, short black hair falling around to cover her face. What if they really were dead?

She felt like there was a hand squeezing her heart. She couldn't breathe; the stench of burning flesh made bile rise in her throat. Novah inhaled through her mouth to stop feeling the unbearable smell anymore. She felt lightheaded; like she was floating.

A crash startled her out of her panicked state and her head snapped up to see a few men entering the store. Outside, people seemed to have formed groups—clustering together in groups of three or four. The three men who were inside looked like they were looking for trouble: tall and broad, with tattoos covering their arms, matching scowls decorating their faces. They seemed to have only noticed Mellie and Simon who were rifling through the pharmacy section. Novah stayed down, wiping her tears on the shoulder of her hoodie.

"Give us everything you've found," One man said, stepping towards Simon and Mellie.

"We got here first." Simon pushed Mellie behind him. "Finders are keepers, don't you think?"

"We found them now. Hand them over and run away," The man pulled out a gun.

Mellie gave a strangled scream, pressing back against a rack. Simon put his hands up in the air, the bag still held in his fist.

"Whoa, whoa," he said slowly. "Now we don't want any trouble, do we? People are watching."

People were indeed watching, hushed whispers spreading through the groups but too afraid to step forward to stop it. Novah wondered where the men found a gun. She shouldered her backpack, still keeping down and started to crawl towards where glass bottles of cordial were kept. She could hear Simon's calm voice and the other man's threatening one. She grabbed the biggest bottle she could and shuffled towards the scene, her head still bowed.

"You really want to kill someone over food, is that it?" Simon was saying.

"A man's gotta survive," Their attacker sneered.

"Well, then why don't you find somewhere else for yourself?"

The man raised the gun, pointing it at Simon's head and Novah leaped to her feet, sneakers scratching against the ground. She threw herself at the man, the glass bottle raised over her head.

She smashed it over the man's head just as the bullet fired.

Total word count 3128