Dead End

Its A Small World

Sydney's POV:

I scanned the room frantically for a place to hide, and considering I was in a fully decorated abandoned house, it should have been a lot easier. I forcefully launched myself at the spiral staircase, crouching underneath one of the broken steps, silently waiting for the intruder to make themselves known.

My knees wobbled unsteadily under my weight and quickly gave up on me, causing me to topple aside. I sunk my aching teeth into my sore arm, trying to distract my mind from the continuous stabbing pain pulsating through my calves.

There was no doubt in my mind that the intruder had heard me fall. And if by some miracle, they hadn't, I was literally shouting my mouth off less than ten minutes ago. I was as good as dead at this point.

Nice going Sydney.

There was a gripping-the-edge-of-your-seat silence for a painfully long time before the very top of the staircase began to creak. My heart leaped into my throat, scrambling around, begging me to let it out so it could hide too. I barely swallowed it back, still startled by the sudden movement from the intruder.

Before I could convince my body to stand up and bolt somewhere safer, dense vibrations echoed around the room. As a teenager, that particular sound was practically coded into my brain, even during the apocalypse; the intruder still had a cell phone. But why?

"Yes boss, sector 182, house 56 is cleared out, we must of caught all of the survivors this morning"

It was an older man, with a deep, gruff voice; he sounded like he had been a smoker for a few years, probably turned to it when this.. thing started. It wasn't unheard of for people to turn to similar acts. They were searching for ways to forget, ways to take the stress away, ways to die.

Before my mind could heave itself back into reality and comprehend the black timberlands that were now in front of my body, and the legs of a giant man towering over me, a sweaty hand latched across my mouth. I widened my eyes, trembling with fear; although my body still hadn't responded, my mind was running as far away as possible. The strangers hand pulled me towards its body and the body dragged me out of the not-so-empty house.

"Hey! Get back here!"

The man in black timberlands howled begrudgingly at me, but I was too busy being pulled into the back of a rusty burgundy pick up truck to respond.

After an hour of driving through the abyss of repetitive woodland, the truck came to a harsh halt. I kept still and quiet, containing my bursting curiosity. Who the hell was this guy and why was he kidnapping me?

I heard the sudden sound of the car door clicking open, and then six, maybe seven? Yes, seven uneasy footsteps crunching over of the trail of brown autumn leaves.

"If I let you go. You have to promise not to scream or run. It'll attract la morte"

I nodded hesitantly, struggling to resist the urge to do exactly what I wasn't suppose to. He swiftly unlocked the back of the truck, pulling out a blunt ashy pocket knife and sawing off the ropes around my ankles. I hastily rubbed the pink indents beginning to form, scowling at the strangers apologetic face, pushing his opened hand aside.

"La morte?"

I questioned as I started to brush the clusters of dry brown dirt off of my shorts. La morte clearly wasn't an English phrase, and I had never heard anyone call the dead that before.

"It's Italian for the dead"

There was a pause.

"Who.. who are you? And why did you kidnap me? Are you gonna.. kill me?"

I mumbled, feeling tears build in my eyes. I could see that my words had caught him off guard, and I don't know if that was such a good thing. Though, there was something still unclear to me. Why had he driven so deep into the woods? If he was really going to kill me, he would have just given me up to black timberland man; unless it was part of his twisted game. It's probably part of his twisted game.

"Oh ya, your death is on the top of my To-do list. Thanks for reminding me"

I began grinding my teeth together. Was he.. mocking me?

"Well excuuuse me for being weary of a guy who just dragged me into the back of his rusty old car and brought me into the middle of the damn woods"

"Yikes, that hurt Brown Eyes. My name is Tate, but you can call me eroe. And for your information, Adalina is a beauty"

He patted the backside of the burgundy truck, causing broken shards of glass from the red lights to tumble onto the crushed trail. I rolled my eyes, watching him fold his lips in defeat.

"What's eroe?"

I enquired, changing subjects. A grin widened across his face, forming elongated dimples along his freckled cheeks.

"Hero"

His voice was dripping with proud sarcasm. How could someone act so unfazed in a situation like this? I was practically on the verge of bawling my eyes out. He leaned behind me and began rummaging through a pastel pink duffel bag.

"Cute bag. It really compliments your diva personality"

I raised my right eyebrow, sliding myself onto the back of the truck. The harsh cold metal stung against my bare legs, making me wince in pain.

"Thanks, I'm a big fan of pink glitter"

He didn't look up from the bag, and part of me was intrigued as to what was so important he needed it at that specific moment.

"Little sister?"

I whispered, feeling my chest tighten around the word. The mood quickly turned somber, and it was as if the world, or what was left of it, held their breath in agonising curiosity.

"Sí. La mia sorellina"

He breathed, pulling his clenched hand out of the bag. But, before I could catch a glimpse of what he was holding, he shoved it hastily into his pocket.

"What do you want with me?"

I croaked, suddenly feeling reality kick in. I was sat in the back of a truck with a complete stranger who had kidnapped me and also, my entire squad was being held hostage by black timberland man's boss, in the middle of the dead apocalypse.

"Don't take this personally Brown Eyes, but it's not really you I wanted. It was Asher"

My heart skipped a beat.

"You know Asher? Do you know where he is? Oh God, Is he okay?"

I pleaded, grabbing hold of Tate's scruffed leather jacket. I watched intently as his cold wide eyes turned, almost, tired. It was the cliche 'I have bad news' look which I had been witness to many times before.

"That's.. that's kinda what I was going to ask you"