CODE: ZOMBIE - A Survivor's Diary

CHAPTER 5 - HOPE

March 30, 2053

It’s the first night I haven’t heard Emy sobbing in her sleep. It must be so hard for her, really hard. I still can’t believe it myself... How could they have killed Lucky, those bastards.

That day, we were returning with the firewood. When we got close to the shack, everything happened in an instant: Lucky started barking, a sound filled with anger that I had never heard from him before. With all his strength, he began running toward our camp. Panicked, Emy and I dropped the wood we were carrying and ran after the dog. After a few steps, I stopped abruptly, grabbing Emy to stop her and pulling her down into the tall grass on the edge of the woods.

In front of us was a terrifying scene, even worse than the corpses we found in the attic. I recognized that damn cyborg truck: it was the same one that patrolled the streets where I had found the little girl a few months ago; I’m sure of it. Two of them were in the driver's cabin, with the engine running. The third one was at the back, with the tailgate down, holding a weapon I’d never seen before. It looked like an assault rifle, but without a magazine. On the barrel, which was larger than usual, there was a strange copper coil attached. From that distance, I couldn’t see much more, but I got a good look at the one holding it: a muscular man with dark skin, long black pants, bare-chested, and his right arm, the one holding the weapon, was a mass of metal and tubes, starting from the shoulder down to the fingertips. It seemed fused with the weapon itself.

Then the fourth man finally emerged from our shelter. He was holding Lucky in his arms. I immediately noticed the bloodstains on the dog’s muzzle and back... he held him like he was an empty sack, lifeless. Lucky's head dangled loosely. The figure approached the cyborg in the back of the truck, who looked at the dog's body for a few seconds. Then, with a nod, he ordered it to be thrown into the truck. I heard the dull thud of the tailgate closing.

Instinctively, I drew my gun. I wanted to do something, anything. But then I heard Emy’s sob, stifled, weak. She was right next to me, petrified, her face streaked with tears, her eyes locked on that surreal scene. Her eyes... were even emptier than a zombie's.

All I could do was wait for them to leave. Emy wouldn’t move; I had to pick her up and carry her inside. To my surprise, everything was in its place. They hadn’t stolen anything, not even the rations or the rifle. In the middle of the room, though, there was a large bloodstain soaking into the worn-out wood floor.

I tried to settle Emy on the chair behind the counter, but she couldn’t take her eyes off that bloodstain, even after I had cleaned it up. She seemed obsessed with that spot. The only time she would lower her gaze was when she collapsed from exhaustion and crying.

She hasn’t eaten in two days. She managed to drink a little water, after much insistence from me. But I still haven’t heard her speak. I don’t know if it’s right to give her space, but I think when she’s ready, she’ll speak. All I can do now is stay by her side and wait, trying to figure out what our next move should be.

We’re no longer safe here. I knew this day would come, but I hoped it wouldn’t be so soon.

March 31, 2053

We are finishing the last preparations. We will leave here tomorrow at dawn, although I still don't know where we’ll go. I used the suture kit and some rags to make a small provisions bag for Emy so that we can carry some extra supplies. I will leave behind what we don’t need and take only the rifle, the pistol, the axe, the first aid kit, and the cartridges, along with some canned food.

Now we'll try to get some rest. Tomorrow will be a long journey.

April 1, 2053

This is our first stop after three hours of walking, heading in the opposite direction of the city. We have ventured into the woods, continuing straight ahead. Fortunately, the vegetation here isn't dense.