Rising of the Dead

Chapter 2: Fine Morning

Chapter 2: A Fine Morning

"Sawyer, wake up; you know the drill," my mum's voice gently broke through the remnants of my deep slumber.

I responded with a groan, my consciousness reluctantly surfacing. "Hmm."

She cast a quick glance at the clock on my nightstand. "It's 9:00 in the morning; we have to go shopping. Come on, you know this."

Reluctantly, I untangled myself from the warmth of my sheets and pulled on a shirt. My bleary eyes struggled to focus on the digital clock as I noticed the time had inched forward to 9:03 am. The sense of urgency lingered.

I descended the staircase, the soft hum of morning's light seeping into the living room, revealing Mum's silhouette near the kitchen. The aroma of freshly toasted bread wafted through the air.

"After you finish eating, I want you to meet me in the car," she instructed.

With a mumbled agreement, I took my place at the small table. Weariness still clung to my senses. Each bite of toast seemed to magnify the ticking seconds on the clock. I felt a peculiar contemplation, a fleeting notion that perhaps today held the promise of something extraordinary. Yet, deep down, I knew it was another ordinary day. I washed down the last bite of toast with a glass of milk, my mother's care in preparing it apparent.

As I stepped outside, I sensed my mother's eyes on me, her watchful gaze as I slipped into my shoes, opened the car door, and obediently fastened my seatbelt.

We embarked on our journey, passing Jaidyn's house, almost a neighbor by proximity, residing just two houses away from ours. Jaidyn, my best friend since our early childhood, had grown up alongside me.

Our route led us to the bustling highway, albeit less congested at this late hour than during the morning rush. The unexpected sight of an ambulance and police cars with flashing lights and blaring sirens raced past us, leaving an air of disquiet in their wake.

Mum's voice broke the silence. "What's going on?" she asked.

I shook my head, bewildered. "I don't know."

A pregnant pause hung in the car before Mum steered the conversation toward safer territory. "How was school today?" she inquired.

"Fine, I guess," I replied, the bland response mirroring my lack of enthusiasm.

"You guess? Why's that?" Mum probed, her tone tinged with motherly concern.

Shrugging, I replied, "I don't know, nothing special."

Another lengthy silence loomed before Mum ventured into more intriguing territory. "Do you have a girlfriend?" Her voice sparkled with anticipation.

My shock was palpable as I processed the unexpected question. Her smile hinted at excitement, her curiosity for my teenage life evident.

Stuttering to formulate a response, I began, "Well..."

Mum seized the moment, her enthusiasm spilling over. "It's okay to talk to me about your love life," she assured me. "You might find some tips, Sawyer. You're older now, 14, and you should b—"

"MUM, WATCH OUT!" I abruptly shouted, fear piercing through the previous conversation.

In an instant, chaos erupted. Something, or someone, collided with our car. The vehicle swerved wildly, and Mum grappled with the steering wheel, but control eluded her. We careened off the road, hurtling toward an imposing tree. My head jolted forward, making brutal contact with the dashboard. A dizzying haze enveloped my senses, and I lost consciousness, plunging into darkness.

When awareness returned, it was accompanied by persistent dizziness. My gaze fell upon Mum; her face was marked by a slow trickle of blood, and she lay motionless.

"Mum?" I called out, panic edging into my voice.

Her silence only fueled my growing unease. Struggling to clear my blurred vision, I noted the time on my wristwatch: 11:43.

A chilling realization dawned upon me: "It's been almost 2 hours since the accident. Where are the authorities?"

A peculiar sensation enveloped me, as if something essential were missing. My eyes fixated on the car window, revealing a prominent crack. Desperation overcame me, and I attempted to open the car door, but it stubbornly resisted. Lifting my foot, I discovered a sizable bruise, rendering my leg numb. Two swift kicks later, the window yielded, releasing my foot from the broken shards of glass.

I approached Mum once more, anxiety gnawing at my chest.

"Mum, answer me," I pleaded, but her lack of response only deepened my trepidation. I sought her pulse but found none, and my trembling fingers detected no breath.

"Mum, wake up!" I cried out, desperation seeping into my voice.

My thoughts spiraled into disarray as I sobbed uncontrollably, pounding my fists against the unforgiving car interior. Then, in a surreal twist of fate, Mum stirred. Her head turned toward me, her once-beautiful light blue eyes now an eerie, lifeless white.

"Mum?"

With an unsettling strength, she clamped her hand onto my shoulder, pulling me closer with an almost inhuman force. An unnatural, guttural groan emanated from her throat, and her eyes remained fixed on me.

"Mum, what are you doing?" I stammered, pushing her hand away, convinced that this macabre act was some twisted jest.

Undeterred, she continued to crawl toward me, her legs seemingly entangled in the wreckage. Her relentless pursuit held an unsettling determination, and I watched in horror as, with a final, violent effort, her legs detached from her body. The gruesome spectacle sent a shriek escaping from my lips. It was as if I had been transported into a nightmare.

I retreated in terror, scrambling for an escape. I finally located a long branch from the fallen tree, my trembling hand clutching it with white-knuckled determination.

"Mum, please, don't make me do this," I whispered, my voice quivering.

Still, she persisted, attempting to grasp my ankle with an eerie desperation. Fear coursed through me as I rose on my injured leg, thrusting the branch into her back. Her agonized moans pierced the air, but she remained unnervingly alive.

"What are you? What..." My voice trailed off in disbelief.

I had no choice but to act. She turned, mirroring the nightmarish creatures from zombie movies. Shock washed over me as I tightened my grip on the branch, aiming squarely for her head.