Plantagion

Chapter 3

Chapter 3      

I almost screamed. Every particle of my being told me to get out of here, run away from the danger that was lurking somewhere out there, in the fog. But I stopped and told myself to think. The situation was much, much worse than I had originally thought. I ran over to the body, seeing if their was a pulse, a chance to save this person. There was no pulse. I stood up, my eyes blurry with tears. I did not know this person, yet the loss of a his life brings sadness on this cool night. Here lay a normal human being, approached and killed by something that had no mercy, no thoughts of forgiveness. From that moment on, I hardened my resolve. If I could prevent it, no loss of life would come to another person.

I got up, brushing off the snow that had clung to my jeans. I took one last look at the man, and that’s when it hit me. It was something about his eyes, the deep blue of his eyes that made me think of someone. Eryn. My face paled. Was Eryn still alive? Had he been hurt, injured? Or was it something worse? Was Eryn dead? No. I thought, wiping the tears from my face. Eryn’s a fighter. He can’t be… dead. But I had to find him, sink into his arms and let him comfort me, tell me everything will be fine. But something told me that nothing would ever be fine.

I set off, a fresh goal in my mind. I needed to find Eryn. He was probably in our apartment, a third-floor, three-room place in the nice neighborhood of Locke City. I looked up at the nearest street sign, trying to figure out where I was. Lorde Boulevard. As I read the sign, dread seeped into my bloodstream. I was on the opposite side of town! In all the confusion and the poor visibility, I had not known where I was going. It was going to be at least a thirty-minute walk to get to my apartment. I set off again, keeping my distance from the shadows of the alleys and backstreets, not knowing was menace they held. I was just about to take a shortcut across the lawn of an office building when I heard a loud pop behind me. I spun around, firing two quick rounds from the Sig Sauer at the source of the noise. To my relief, it was just a street light fizzling out. But my relief quickly turned to fear. The other streetlights had already gone out, and with that final one out, the street became pitch black.

Panicking, I started to run through the grass of the lawn, tripping over the roots of trees that grew there. My feet hit concrete, and I knew that I must’ve found the street again. But just as I thought I was out of troubles way, I tripped over something, landing on the pavement hard and losing the Sig Sauer. I struggled to get up, to find the source of my strife. I found a lamp post to my right, and hauled myself up using its cold metal structure. I looked at the ground, trying to locate what I had tripped. I found the source, but immediately wished I hadn’t. It was another body, with its face staring up at me. Just then, the lamp post’s light flickered back to life, and I got a glimpse of the corpse’s face. A woman’s face. A few feet away from her, I spotted my Sig Sauer. I ran over and picked it up, not looking at the body a moment longer. By this time I was horrified, and I had to get to Eryn. I straightened, looking around now that there was a source of light to guide my way. But I immediately wished the light hadn’t come on. Bodies littered the sidewalks and street. Twenty or so, lying awkwardly on the pavement or grass. I didn't look at them, just jogged carefully between them, trying to get away from them as fast as I could. But there were more, and as I approached the block where my apartment complex was located, I was starting to lose hope. Starting to lose that resolve that I would Eryn, and if I did find him, that he would still be alive.

I climbed the final few steps before reaching the level of me and Eryn’s apartment. I could feel a rising tension all throughout my body, my muscles flexing, my brain alert for anything. Apartment 403, Apartment 403. I thought to myself. I passed 409, then 407, than 405. By the time I reached 403, I was sprinting down the hall and through the doorway. I was over the threshold in an instant, screaming Eryn’s name.

“Eryn,” I called, but I got no answer. “Eryn!”

It was no use. the place was as cold as ice, numbing down to the bone. Or was that just my fear of what could have happened to Eryn. I sat on the loveseat, trying to calm myself, telling myself to think. Why had the door been ajar? I realized. I had been able to burst into the apartment without even turning the doorknob. That was pretty concerning. Either he had been in a rush to leave, or something had gotten in here. Either way, it didn’t look good. I got up, checking and rechecking all the rooms and hiding places. But Eryn was still not there.

Our apartment was a nice place, especially in the morning. With widows covering the East and North sides, morning sunlight would flow in our 4th story suite. But that night, the apartment just looked ominously dark. I remember the mornings waking up with Eryn at my side, his warmth comforting me as we lay in our bed in silence. I stood up from the loveseat, knowing that I must form some type of plan. I paced up and down, occasionally looking at the street below. But the bodies that littered the streets repulsed me, and I backed away from the windows, the gag reflex overwhelming. I was just about to sit down again when a loud bang at my door nearly startled me to death.

I quickly ran over to the kitchen area of our apartment, hiding behind the concrete and titanium counter. I heard another loud bang, followed by the sound of a man grunting, while the other scolds him. I wait behind the counter as the two mens footsteps draw closer. I watch fro the reflection of my fridge as they enter the living room, about thirty feet away. I knew that this was my time to act. I shot up from the counter, aiming at the two men and firing three rounds from my Sig Sauer. My first bullet hit the window behind the men, shattering the glass. The second hit the flower vase which Eryn had given me on our first date. Oops. I thought, a little guiltily. But the third bullet had hit its mark. It went into the back of the bald man, who crumpled to the floor instantaneously. The other man reacted quickly, hauling himself behind the nearest couch. I took my stance behind the counter and fired six more more rounds into the couch, but I knew that none of them had injured the second man. I crouch back down behind the counter when I see the man raising his gun in my direction, firing a couple of times. There was a pause of silence, in which I thought he might’ve given up, but it was a stupid idea. The next three rounds fired by the man hit all three wine bottles on the rack. Nice shots. I complemented the gunman silently. But he underestimated my skills with a handgun. I knew that i would soon need to replace the 18-round magazine in my Sig Sauer, and I knew that I must have six shots left. Then, almost to show off, the man fired two rounds and burst my champagne bottles. Does he ever want me to fucking drink again? But I started to form a plan, next time he decided to show off, I would show him up. I knew that he would go for the last two bottles of whisky on the liquor rack, which made me want to cry. Good whisky was hard to come by in those days. Oh well. I thought, hoping that I could kill him before he destroyed the last bottle.

I inched along the side of the counter, trying to get into a decent position to not get hit. This was the longest pause yet, and I should've known something was up. When I heard one round fire from his gun, I tried to locate where it had been fired from. I looked at the couch that he had been hiding behind, but he was not there. Where is he? I asked myself. But before I could crouch back down behind the counter, I was hit in the neck with a dart.  A dart? I thought, my vision becoming slightly blurry. I guess they never wanted to kill me. My thoughts were getting  more and more jumbled as a blurry outline of a man leaned over me. Nice shot. I wanted to say to him, wanting to put all the sarcasm I could into the statement. But my lips wouldn't budge. The last thing I remembered seeing before blacking out was a picture of Eryn on the wall.