Undead Fate

Chapter Two

THE TOWN OF DEATH

I felt like a thousand pounds. I wheeled myself around to scan the new scene I somehow teleported to. Bald, thin trees crowded in the middle of the lake I stood in, where dried leaves formed a layer on the surface of the water. What appeared crazy above all was that the sun was high and it glared angrily at me. It was not supposed to be doing that, and it wasn't even supposed to be there at all. Right now was supposed to be an evening in the middle of winter.

I looked up and my knees buckled in horror. The sky, usually cramped with competitive skyscrapers, was now adorned with distant mountain ridges that were impossible in New York. Birds chirped merrily from afar as if mocking my utter despair.

My terrified musings were interrupted when I heard a rustling of leaves and my heart almost leaped from my chest. Then I realized the sound was from a boy who now lied awkwardly on the ground with various herbs scattered around his body. Doctor's instincts made me dash to the possible patient.

The child, who most probably was around six or seven, had thick, curly hair that stuck to his sweaty forehead and a small, adorable face. He was dressed in a dirty rag that clung to his bony shoulders and waist. His clothes—or lack thereof—and his bony structure made my heart reach out to him.

I knelt beside the boy and pressed two fingers on the soft spot below his jaw. There was a faint pulse, thank God. Then I noticed the fast rising and falling of his chest, his breathing was shallow. I felt the boy's forehead and deduced he had a high fever. Next, I scanned the kid's frail body for obvious injury, there wasn't, except for the rashes scattered on his copper skin.

"Kid! Where are your parents?" I tried to wake him up. He shifted but didn't respond. I looked around again and found a path trailing inside the forest. Above the dense sea of leaves of the trees were thin smokes that indicated signs of life. I carried the sick boy in my arms and followed the path and emerged from the forest to a feudal village.

It was the stench that almost knocked me over. My nostrils screamed for cover as the pungent odor assaulted my nose. My eyes watered. I daringly stepped within the perimeter and found a hair-raising view. My bones chilled.

I stared aghast at the terrible sight before me. The dilapidated village was almost deserted, apart from the decaying corpses either piled on certain corners or scattered around the empty commune. Scavengers ate on the poor remains, flies hovering above them.

One would think that working—or more accurately, living—in a hospital for eight years would make someone gets used to the presence of death. That was wrong, I never did. And this was different. Because this was not just death, this was an atrocity.

My stomach twisted and I gagged. I even considered putting the sick boy down and hurl, but a bloodcurdling scream from behind abolished my chances to do so.

I made a swift turn and saw a malnourished woman, with hollow eyes and cheeks. For an unknown reason, she was hysterically screaming while pointing at our direction. Her dark hair was disheveled at impossible levels and she was wearing the same thing as the boy.

At first, I thought that she was accusing me of the death surrounding them. I started to speak when the mad woman interjected.

"Demon!" her shrill voice rang in my ears and made me wince, "Hades has sent his spawn to claim our souls!" There were many that didn't make sense in what the hysterical woman said that I wanted to point out.

"Excuse me, ma'am," I approached as politely as I could, "do you know where's the nearest hospital?" I asked though predicting the answer because in what I observed in this place, hospitals had to be miles from here. Or civilization in general.

As I spoke I saw few others creeping out of the dilapidated shacks they couldn't have called their homes. One by one, they filled the empty commune. The villagers all looked similar, malnourished and weak. They all fashioned the same dark, disheveled hair and worn out rags.

The sight reminded me of a particular horror movie I watched when I was young and I found myself instinctively stepping backward. My heart was beating so loudly it echoed in my ears. With eyes darting from left to right, my mind was yelling at me to run.

If you want to live, run!

But no, I planted my feet on the ground. I wasn't in a horror movie. This was real life, or as real as it could get in a dream. A terrifying dream. These people weren't the walking dead or vengeful ghouls, a person was sick. And I was a doctor; it was my duty to help.

"I am a doctor." I tried again, ignoring the nervous throbbing of my heart, and then gestured to the boy panting in my arms. "I have a patient here."

"He needs help. Now."

I was too busy mentally stomping my own fears down that I just noticed the not-so-covert glances the villagers were throwing at each other and at something behind me. I wheeled around in alarm only to be bathed once again with water. A quick whiff confirmed that the liquid thrown at me wasn't as clean as the lake water earlier. My eyes widened in surprise but I kept my mouth shut for the fear of getting the doubtful liquid getting in my mouth.

I gasped, finally remembering the now wet and shivering kid I was carrying. "What are you doing?" I cried as I hugged him tightly in my arms, trying to offer my body heat. Unbelievable, these people were out of their minds!

"Let go of the boy!" a middle-aged man wearing a worn tunic bellowed menacingly.

"Okay!" I responded right away, afraid of what the man could do to me, "okay, I'll put him down." And I did, as slowly as possible, never leaving my eyes on the threatening man. I raised both hands in a sign of surrender as I stood up straight. "I don't mean any harm. I'm just...I'm here to help!"

Again, I saw the man's eyes shift to something behind me. And the next thing I knew, the world was dark.