Abyss

Abyss - Chapter 1

         

The dead have taken over the world. And if you don't know that by now, well, you're screwed. Which sucks for you, but I have bigger problems right now.

    Where am I? Well, currently I'm stuck on top of a water tower, with nothing but this stupid, six shot pistol and a screwdriver. Below me is death, literally.

    That is to say, about twenty or more blood thirsty dead dudes surrounding me. If that isn't the definition of death, I don't know what is.

    To top it all off, this water tower isn't exactly very sturdy. Especially with those mindless idiots down there rocking it back and forth. All I can do is wait. For either a miracle, or a very painful death. On the other hand, I do have one bullet left...

~

    I've been on my own for a while now. I haven't seen anyone in months. I think I prefer it that way. No one to worry about, no one to cry over. It's simple.

    Travel is faster and the best part is you don't have to share anything you find.

    Honestly, I make it sound pretty awesome, but it's not. You have no idea how much I miss people. I never thought I would hear myself say that, never being much of a people person before all this, but there it is. And I'm not talking about those mindless, bloody, savage things. Those are not people.

    I think I am getting better at this whole zombie killing thing, though. You kind of get into the swing of it. Plus, it's fun. But it sort of looses it's charms when there's no one to share it with. No one to tell your stupid jokes to or to laugh with about who knocked what's head off and how.

    "And another one bites the dust." I drone to myself.

    I'm not sure where I am anymore. I did have a destination, but lately I've just been wandering. It's not like there are many maps or people to give you directions anymore.

    I decided it was better to just rid the world of some cannibalistic bastards in the meantime.

    I've been keeping track of how many I've killed since I got split up from everyone. Looking down at my arm, I count the tallies. One, two, three... fifteen, sixteen... forty-five, forty-six... Ah, fuck it. A lot. I've killed a lot, ok?! I guess I've been busy.

    Looking down the street, I see several zombies start to limp towards me. I pull my cassette player out of my pocket and pop the earbuds in. As I walk down the deserted street "Ode To Joy" plays in my ears. I casually swing my weapon in tune with the music. One, two, three. One, two, three. The street is littered with cars and bodies. Blood sprays all over my face and hands. I look down at my shirt. It's black, so I can't see any blood, but I can feel it soaking through. I pull out the earphones and shove them back into my pocket.

    With everything in sight officially dead, I feel the adrenaline fade away and a wave of fatigue rushes over me. My legs start to shake and I spot a nearby shop.

    When was the last time I slept? I don't remember... I decide to head for the abandoned shop. Ever since the army went and blew everything away, even decent shelter is in short supply around here. But this one seemed still relatively intact, at least there were no walls missing.

    Reaching the door to a relatively untouched shop, I knock on it a couple times to get the attention of anything inside. I wait a couple minutes, and sure enough, there comes groaning and banging from the other side of the boarded up, glass door. Sounds like two or three. I think to myself, Three might be a bit of a problem. I decide to move quickly and get it over with. My options are kind of slim at this point. I crack the door open slightly, jabbing the first one in the forehead with my knife. The second one pushes past the door, tripping over the first and it smashes it's head on the concrete, brains spilling everywhere. As I look up, a third one limps out, a little girl. As she moves forward, I slowly step backwards into the street. Just do it, I told myself, she's already dead.

    With only a moments hesitation, I drive the blade into the side of her head, twisting it and pulling it back out.

    When I am sure the dead have been cleared, I squeeze my eyes shut and drop to the ground. Inside my head, I'm battling with my emotions. I know it was the right thing to do - the only thing to do, but it went against every human instinct. Killing was wrong. But the part that I was struggling with most was the undeniable truth of exactly how much I loved it. Killing that is. If it's even considered killing anymore.

    Standing back up, I wipe a hand over my face, smearing blood across my nose and cheeks.

    It took me a couple of minutes to sweep the store. I sealed off the doors, barricaded them and made sure there was no other possible way anything else could get in.

    Upstairs was a small, one bedroom apartment that the shop owner must have slept in. I pushed a couple of old springs back into the mattress and curled up on top. Pulling a relatively clean blanket up around me, I dozed off to sleep and didn't wake again for a while.

~

    My heart starts racing, my ears are ringing. I sit up quickly, expecting the worse. There's no one in the room. I go to the window to get a good look. There's a group of five people running down the street. It looks like they were trying to get into a car when they set off its alarm.

    "Well there's not much I can do now." I said to myself.

    Walkers were closing in on them from every side. There had to be at least fifteen, that I could see. My best bet would be to wait until they were drawn closer together and then make a run for it.

    I went downstairs, bag in hand, and started taking whatever I thought would be useful. There wasn't much, it was just a small corner store. I managed to get a few cans of food, a blanket, a screwdriver and a new coat though.

    I pulled my blood soaked t-shirt off, used some baby wipes to remove as much blood as possible and pulled on the coat. Sliding my arms into the soft, clean sleeves, I tucked it around myself and buttoned it up. It was a bit big, but then, I liked it that way.

    Throwing the bag onto my back and grabbing my knife, I waited by the door, watching the street through a crack in the wood.

    When most of them had made their way down the hill, drawn by the screams and sirens, I opened the door and made a run for it.

    I ran as fast as I could, serpentining between the few scattered dead that fell behind the rest. Eventually, I made it into this field where they had corralled me. They came out of the trees in groups. I had underestimated them. I guess they've finished with their main course, I mocked, time for desert.

    In an effort to get away, I had gotten my knife stuck in one of their heads before it could sink it's teeth into my face. I didn't have the time to get it out, so I reluctantly left the gorgeous blade in some dead guy's cranium. The only place to go from there was up.