Creative Writing

Radioactive

They shamble around, incoherent sounds emitting from their mouths. You could call them a lot of things, zombies, corpses, walkers. Well, that is not what they are. They aren't dead, they are still alive. They shuffle around, leaning over, wounds cluttered over their bodies.

Many people went insane a few days after the disease spread. People became cannibalistic, losing interest in food and becoming intent on killing others for survival. I had watched my brother and father become like this, killing each other. My brother won the battle, and then went on towards my uncle.

I have noticed a pattern. When the 'things' fight, they fight male vs male. Only a few times have I seen a male vs female fight, and that was only because the female initiated the fight. They didn't want to hurt females, though females were stronger and more ruthless. Females attacked humans, males did not. It was weird, but then again, everything going on is weird. Maybe this is the only normal thing in the world.

A rumbling interrupts my thoughts and I remember where I am. The window sill I am standing next to in the shadows gives me a wide view of the streets overrun with things below. From the north, to my left, a truck rumbles down the broken and destroyed road. Funny how it can still drive down it with all the stray rocks and bodies scattered everywhere.

The incoherent sounds of the things join the rumbling of the truck and I climb up from the window sill to the outside wall. My mind is set upon my task, to climb to the roof of the apartment building I was in.

I pull myself over the edge about a minute after I left the window sill, and I look down towards the truck. It is still a far way off. It slowed down due to the mountain of rock blocking the road. The things still stood there, silent other than their uncontrollable moans, listening and waiting for the truck to come into their view.

They may not be human anymore, they may not have any scraps of humanity within their disgusting, destroyed bodies, but they were still smart. They were instinctive creatures, as smart as humans, and because of this, humans were scared.

The truck stopped before the mountain of rocks, and the driver stepped out. A man, early 40's, a bit on the pudgy side, opened and closed the door to the truck. I cursed. I wasn't on the right side. The target was on the other side.

I set up my sniper rifle, sighting the driver and watched him walk to the back of the truck. The target walked around to my side, and I smiled. My target was within my sights. Then it dropped.

There, being pulled out the back of the truck, are human children. A shiver racks my body, finally understanding what is going on. It was a trick. The government had tricked me.

They wanted me to kill the target, which then gains the things attention, which is turn leads to the driver and the kids being killed by the female things. They wanted me to kill kids who couldn't fight back.

What had these kids done? What had they done for the government to want them dead?

I take a deep breath in to calm myself before setting my sight onto one of the things. It was a female. Without thinking of a plan, I pulled the trigger.

The sound of the gunshot reverberated around the street, the driver and target looking up from dragging the kids out of the truck, and the things began their attack. The female dropped dead, her head ripped open, black blood oozing out as she gargled. The males and females near her began to rip each other apart.