Once the World Ends

Chapter Four

I heard a loud crash coming from inside the shop, freezing me in my tracks.

For the past couple of days, I’ve been ransacking different stores, returning at night to the same little apartment. It just works out better, and I don’t have to carry my bag and provisions everywhere with me. Just my poker, a couple of deformed paper clips for picking locks, and a large weekend bag that I found while going through the apartment. It was now clear that no one was going to come claim it.

I had also decided to not leave the city or try and search for my aunt. Partly because since New York is such a large city, once the world pulls itself together, if it ever does, I’m guessing we’ll receive aid first. Partly also, I’ll admit, because I’m clinging to the hope that my aunt is alive and well, but if I arrived in Austin to find a mad and raving lunatic intent on skinning my hide, what would I do? It would just feel so wrong to hurt a part of my family, regardless of if the person they once were was miles away. I will not abuse of my talents and maim, let alone kill, those who have completely given themselves over to the disease. They might not act like people, but that doesn't mean that I have lost every ounce of my humanity. Besides, they are sick, and no matter what, if someone is still alive, they can still be saved.

“Who’s there?” I called out, hoping against hope that whoever or whatever was out there would show itself from the shifting darkness.

I heard a slight shuffling off to my left, and instinctively turned towards it. No sooner had I taken a step forward than I felt a pair of large, dirt streaked hands wrap tightly around me, one covering my mouth, another gripping both my wrists, forcing me to let my poker clatter to the floor. I instantly bit down on my captors hand while sending my elbow into his rib cage, and as he clutched his abdomen, I whirled and sent my knee straight into his groin, leaving him groaning on the floor.

Rule one when dealing with much bigger, stronger opponents than oneself: Finesse kinda goes out the window.

Scooping up my poker and bag, I took off down the street, already starting to feel quite good about the whole ordeal, even congratulating myself over how I, Coraline Harvey, thirteen-year-old girl, had single handedly taken down a big, grimy loony. That’s why as the second pair of unloving, rough hands seized me from behind, it took me a second too long to react as the cold metal tip of a knife pierced the sensitive skin on my neck, even that slight touch sending a few drops of blood onto the ground below.

“Now sweetheart, we can either do things the easy way, or the hard way,” sour, unpleasant breath wafted over my face, “you’re not gonna be difficult now hon, are ya? We wouldn't want to ruin such a pretty face... But I could always make the exception, if you insist.”

I shake my head vigorously, feeling more blood drip from my neck.

I hear an unpleasant chuckle followed by “There’s a good girl,” before a grimy cloth is tied over my eyes, a tight rope constricts my wrists, and I am left in the darkness of my own thoughts as I stumble blindly over the rubble and debris that coats the streets, the knife poking into my lower back constant motivation.