Fear is all around us

The Fort

true..

Ryan reached the top of the hill and looked down onto the town of Prieska. It was a small, one horse town in the Upper Karoo desert. The old church in the middle of the town still stood tall, the clock tower casting a long shadow in the late afternoon sun.
The town looked like it was in a fairly good condition compared to many of the other places he had passed through, though it seemed just as abandoned – which was seldom actually the case.
He sighed, and scanned the streets and buildings for any sign of life.
He had been walking for hours and he was exhausted. The old Ford Focus he had managed to get running in Potchefstroom had finally given in about twenty five kilometers back and he had been walking since. The hot desert sun had not made it easy, but he had made it. He needed to find food, shelter and new transport, and hopefully he would be on his way to Namibia sooner rather than later.
Ryan pulled the pair of binoculars he had out of his pack and scanned the town again for a couple of minutes.
There were a few shops in Prieska which had sold food and supplies, though these would more than likely have been looted since. He was inclined to check the general store, seeing as Prieska was a farm town, but it would probably also be empty. Surrounding farms could prove fruitful and might warrant a trip out, but he would avoid prolonging his stay close to town if he could. Where there were towns, trouble was usually not far off.
A slight movement caught his eye in the window of a building he was examining. He quickly jerked the binoculars to focus on this particular window, and he thought he just caught a glimpse of someone moving out of sight. He examined the building for a few moments longer, waiting for another glimpse at what had caught his eye, but all was quiet once again.
Ryan sighed again. Of course the town wouldn't be empty, why would anything ever be easy?
Lowering the binoculars he glanced up at the sinking sun. He had to get under cover before nightfall – especially if he wasn't alone.
He packed away his binoculars, shouldered his pack, picked up his rifle and started down the hill.
He knew Prieska well. In the native Korana tongue, Prieska translated to "The Place of the Lost She-goat". His grandparents had lived there for many years, and growing up he had often visited. The butchery was where they sold the best biltong he had ever tasted and the small corner shop often gave him free candy when he entered. But his favorite place in town was the old fort on the Prieska Koppie. The British had built it during the Anglo-Boer War, and the sense of history he had felt when he first visited it had always lured him back. He looked up and could see it on the other side of the town. It seemed to watch over the small town in an ominous silence.
Ryan descended the hill and reached the edge of town as the sun was lowering behind the buildings. Time to focus, buddy.
He cocked his Remington and took a few deep breaths to steady himself.
He didn't know what to expect, and after all this time he still wasn't sure what he dreaded more; coming across bandits or lurkers. One thing he had learned on his journey from Johannesburg, was that people were capable of unparalleled cruelty, and they could be just as fear inducing as any lurker he had come across. And he had come across many.
He quickly moved up to the closest building, looking in all directions as he approached. Slowly he peered around the wall and down the street heading into Prieska. Nothing stirred.
Cautiously, he headed down the street, staying low and close to the building. It was some sort of government building and held no real interest for him.
Shelter was now his number one concern, as the lurkers became particularly active after sundown. This he had learned early on in his exodus from Johannesburg, when he had at first opted to travel only by night to avoid the desperate people looking for help – and those people who always seemed to thrive in humanity's darkest times. These people seemed to enjoy the lawlessness – and the suffering, and they were more than willing to add to it if it benefited them.
Reaching an intersection, he quickly scanned both ways and behind him before proceeding.
The residential area started only a few blocks ahead of him and he figured he would be able to hole up in an abandoned house for the night. It was now fully dark, but the full moon gave a generous amount of light.
Ryan had crossed another intersection when he heard a groan and footsteps around the next corner. He froze, and backed up a few steps. Raising the rifle, he steeled himself for what would emerge.
Another groan and then a hiss came from around the corner, and a few seconds later a small figure stepped into view.
Ryan recoiled. He had seen many lurkers, but this was new even for him.
A boy of no more than three stood a few feet before him.
At least, it used to be a boy.
The boy's eyes were a feral yellow – unfocused and crazed. He was bleeding from his mouth, and his skin had a gray-ish hue to it – like ash. Black veins were all over his body, thick and bulging as if they were struggling to pump the blood through.
This was the youngest lurker Ryan had ever seen. They were always young, but never this young.
He looked up at Ryan, and at first it seemed as if he looked right through him.
Then his eyes seemed to focus, and hate and anger filled them. He hissed like a snake, and sprang forward, coming at Ryan at full tilt.
The scariest thing about lurkers were their speed and what took him off guard even more, was the agility of the young – former – young boy.
Ryan had been frozen when he saw the boy, but now, with a hissing, feral lurker charging at him, his survival instinct which had kept him alive for so long quickly kicked in.
He raised his rifle and fired a single shot, hitting the lurker mid leap and instantly dropping him.
The gun shot's echo thundered through the small town, and now Ryan was in trouble. If there were more lurkers around, they would come running. If there were bandits around – so would they.
Usually Ryan dispatched single lurkers with the trusty hand axe he kept at his side, but the young lurker had shocked him out of his wits.
Quickly chambering another round, he started forward again, this time jogging.
An instant later he heard a shriek to his left, which was answered by another to his right.
Well, shit.
He started sprinting.
He heard shrieks, screams and hisses approaching from both sides and Ryan started to panic.
He was desperately looking around for a place of safety, anything that could save him from the oncoming death rush.
He glanced over his shoulder, but the street was empty – for now. He spotted a small side street a couple of yards ahead and ducked into it. Clambering onto a nearby dumpster, he was able to reach the roof of the adjoining building and quickly hoisted himself up.
He rolled away from the edge and took a few calming breaths.
Slowly, he peered over the edge just as a dozen or so of the lurkers poured into the street from each direction.
Searching for the cause of the gunshot, they sprinted up and down the street, teeth gnashing. The black veins crisscrossing their bodies were visible to Ryan even from a distance. They quickly found the body of the one he had killed, and anger seemed to ripple through the group. Their gnashing and hissing intensified, and they raced up and down the street, looking for the one responsible.
It had been three years since Revelations – the media had named it after the book in the bible – had crashed into the desert of Texas in the United States. The large asteroid had done considerable damage to the area, but as it had crashed in a fairly deserted area, few human lives were lost. It was what came after that had given the asteroid its name.
Days after the asteroid hit, reports began to come in of first responders dying of some sort of disease. Doctors were baffled, as it started very much like flu, but quickly escalated with ebola-like symptoms. Soon the afflicted would die of massive organ failure, only hours after the first symptoms showed. After the scientists that visited the scene began to die as well, the connection was made to the asteroid and the crash site was quarantined. The last few people to have come in contact with the asteroid quickly died. The families and anyone who had come in close proximity to the responders and scientists were also quarantined, as they had no idea if the disease was infectious. But after days of tests and monitoring, it was concluded that the disease was in fact not infectious and the quarantined people were allowed to leave. They were so, so wrong.
Ryan's attention was brought back to the present when a lurker entered the side street he had used to get to the roof and started sniffing around the dumpster.
Ryan had quickly learned a few important things about them through his various encounters. They were extremely fast; you can't outrun them. On top of that, they had incredible endurance – they never stopped coming. Once they saw you – or smelled you, which was another thing that made them difficult to evade – they would pursue you relentlessly, risking self injury and even death to try and reach you – they had no inclination to self preservation whatsoever. The only thing that seemed to drive them was their need to kill. They did not feed on humans – in fact, Ryan had never seen them eat anything – they merely killed them. The only way Ryan knew how to get a lurker off of your tail, was to kill it, or to put enough distance between yourself and it. And that meant kilometers.
Ryan watched the lurker continue sniffing the dumpster and suddenly, it looked up – somehow Ryan had expected this, and was just able to duck behind the edge in time to avoid being spotted. But if it had his scent, it would soon attempt to follow him onto the roof.
Ryan quickly scanned the roof and summed up his options. He saw the neighboring building was a two story and that he might be able to jump onto the balcony. Not really having much choice, he quietly sprang up and carefully made his way to the edge.
The balcony was slightly lower than he was, but it was a fair distance away. He shouldered the rifle and took a few quick breaths. Tensing his whole body, he managed a few quick steps and jumped. His hands caught the railing of the balcony and his body slammed into it, causing it to rattle. He tried to pull himself up, but his left hand slipped on the cool metal, and he almost dropped into the alley below. Hanging by one hand, he looked down and saw several lurkers speeding this way and that. They had not looked up yet.
With a great effort he managed to get his left hand onto the railing again, and started to pull himself up. He was soon able to use his legs to help himself up and seconds later he was on the correct side of the railing.
He was panting, and Ryan stood with his hands on his knees, looking back the way he had come.
He was about to turn, when he heard the click of a revolver being cocked behind his head.
"Slowly straighten. Then drop your rifle and pack on the ground. Don't turn around."
It was a female voice, with a thick Afrikaans accent and he guessed the person behind it fairly young.
"Look, I don't want any trouble. I'm just running from those things, please." He spoke calmly and clearly.
"I don't really care. Do as I say or you'll soon join them down there."
Ryan slowly straightened, unslung his rifle and pack and carefully laid them on the ground.
The woman stepped forward and Ryan could hear her crouch to grab his rifle. In a flash, he spun around the other way, in the same movement drawing his small axe from its sheath beneath his coat. He grabbed the wrist she was holding the revolver in and jerked it sideways, causing her to drop the weapon. He then spun her around and in another swift movement pinned her arm behind her, slammed her against the wall and brought the axe up to her throat – this all happened in maybe three seconds.
She tensed, but mostly seemed shocked by the speed at which he had disarmed her.
"I don't want to hurt you. I'm just passing through town and I got attacked. I didn't even know there was anyone in this place."
She tried to look at him, but he still held her firmly against the wall, her cheek flat against it.
"Now I'm going to let you go. I don't want to hurt you, but that doesn't mean that I won't – if you leave me no choice. Stay calm, don't do anything stupid, and we'll both live through the night so that we can die tomorrow. Do we have an understanding?"
She seemed to think for a second, but then slowly nodded.
Ryan released her and stepped back, quickly stooping to retrieve her revolver.
She turned around, rubbing her wrist and then her cheek.
She was beautiful and young. Ryan guessed her at no more than twenty. She was the youngest person that he had seen since everything had started. Well, the youngest normal person. She had wild, curly black hair and bright blue eyes. Even in the moonlight he could see that she had freckles. She was a great deal shorter than him and was slightly built.
She looked him up and down in return, but remained silent.
"What's your name?" he asked, opening the revolver and seeing that it was empty.
"Helena." she said, looking at him and the revolver with indifference.
"Do you even have bullets?"
She folded her arms and shrugged. "I found it a while back. Could never get it open to check."
He handed her the revolver and picked up his pack and rifle.
"Do you stay here alone?"
She looked back into the room, but it was dark inside and he couldn't see past the door.
"Not when it started."
She didn't elaborate so Ryan decided not to ask.
"I'm Ryan." He held out his hand and she looked at it for a couple of moments before she shook it.
"I'd say nice to meet you Ryan, but you did just slam me into a wall and nearly tear my arm off."
Her lip curled into the slightest of grins, though he thought it was just nerves.
"Says the one who held a gun to my head and threatened to throw me to the lurkers."
"Is that what you call them? Lurkers? Why?" He sighed, looking back down into the alley. It was deserted.
"Have you ever seen them in the day? They walk around slowly, as if they were high or drunk, right?"
She nodded.
"Well, at night they move much quicker, and they walk sort of hunched over. To me it always looked like they were lurking."
"Huh. I just call them crazies. Are they still human?" She hugged herself and Ryan got the impression that this was an involuntary moment.
"To be honest, I don't know. But the way they attack you definitely isn't."
"Have you killed any of them? Was it your gunshot I heard earlier?"
"Yes and yes."
She looked him up and down again, this time with what seemed to be a little more respect.
"How did you do that?" she asked as he sheathed his axe.
"Do what?"
"Take my gun away from me so quickly. Are you some kind of soldier?"
He chuckled humorlessly. "I've just been on the road a very long time and it's something I had to learn along the way."
She looked impressed. "Where are you from?"
"Joburg. Look, I'll answer all the questions you want, but can we please go inside?"
She looked him up and down and nodded. She headed into the room and he followed.
It was pitch black inside and he could barely make out what he thought was some furniture.
He turned and she closed the glass sliding door. Then she closed a heavy, sturdy looking metal gate, which she then proceeded to lock with two bolts and a key. After this she moved to a corner close to the door and lifted what looked like plywood, which she placed in front of the door and locked in place with improvised latches. Finally, she drew the curtains closed. They were thick, black and spilled all the way onto the floor.
Taking a few steps into the room, she passed Ryan and then bent down. A second later a match sparked into life and she used this to light a lantern. She took the lantern and switched on two more camping lights.
She turned to look at Ryan. "They're solar powered, so that makes things easier."
As his eyes adjusted, he looked around. They were in what Ryan guessed was probably the open plan living room of a larger flat. He could see a makeshift kitchen and there were two couches, an armchair and a bed in the corner of the living room.
She saw him looking around. "I used to live here with my mom and sister. There is a downstairs as well, but after ... I didn't need that much space and it felt ... safer being up here. I only go down there when I have to go out and then only in the day."
"That's smart. They're not very active in daylight."
"Why is that?" she asked.
"I really don't know. So you've been on your own since the beginning? How have you survived?" He was really interested, but he knew as soon as he said it that it came across as an insult – literal amazement that she was still alive.
"Hey, fuck you buddy." she said fiercely.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it like that. I meant how did you survive literally – what did you do for food, supplies? Were there bandits and how did you dodge the lurkers? That's all."
She glared at him for a couple of seconds, but said nothing.
He looked down at his shoes and then back up at her.
"How did you manage to block off everything like this?" he said and gestured to the fortified door they had just passed through.
Her look softened a little and then she smirked. "I've just been alone a very long time and it's something I had to learn along the way."
Ryan smiled.
"Are you thirsty? I've got quite a lot of water – even a couple of bottles of booze."
"Water would be great, thanks."
She moved off to the kitchen while Ryan chose the comfortable looking arm chair that gave him a great view of the door that he assumed led downstairs and the door they had just passed through. He sank down onto it and it really was comfortable. Laying his pack and his rifle next to him, he sat back in the chair and sighed deeply. He had had a very long day and he was exhausted. He closed his eyes.