Rule of the Dead

Chapter One: Cornered

Nov 3, 2017. 11:03|

I ran down the empty street, looking for somewhere to escape the group that was tailing me, heart pounding in my chest with an erratic thud, in a similar rhythm to the feet thundering only paces behind me. Tension crawled up the nape of my neck, sweat beading along my skin. The area was familiar, but not overly so. Scraps of memory were frustratingly hazy. Ideally, there would be an alley that I could escape into, but I struggled to recall. I needed an opening, or a gate.  A goddamn garden fence to jump over, for God's sake! Anything that I could use as a buffer would be useful, but the walls caging me in climbed high, and the sky was ominously dark. I was dead out of luck, and the further I propelled myself, the more I realised that the only thing in sight was a multitude of stores, grimy windows glaring obnoxiously. A few weeks earlier and they would have been a Godsend, but not so much anymore.

To begin with, anywhere that sold products that could be even slightly useful, or beneficial in aiding my survival, was an incredible rarity that only surfaced when you weren’t looking for them. Currently, practically every shop that wasn't at least ten miles outside of a city or town was either looted, ransacked or filled with them, the ones who never made it, walking as if unaffected, when all those who survived understood that they should be six feet under. They swarmed the streets in hordes, staying in a group of six or more, more often than not. And it wasn’t that it was uncommon to see stragglers, the easy one-by-one targets, not at all, but it was common knowledge that vast, strong groups almost always patrolled the streets, and the stores that I was faced with now were, in essence, deathtraps rather than safe havens.

My hope was beginning to thin, an uncomfortable sort of dread settling itself in my chest. I was running out of stamina, my breathing harsh and uneven, and my lungs and muscles burning. Despite my usual organisation, the one tin of tuna I’d had left, I’d consumed this morning, meaning that my energy was depleting rapidly and I still had yet to find any stash of food. I was losing my footing, and any hold that I had on the situation. It felt similarly to grasping at straws, right as they slipped through my fingers.

I wished almost for the ground to swallow me whole, as the footsteps of those behind me gained and my heart picked up, a spiking anxiety affecting my breathing further. It seemed that the inevitable was upon me, and a spiraling sense of self-doubt almost pulled me under. My self-hindering pessimism was enough to contend with, but feeling the inevitability of death grasping at my ankles and pushing downwards on my body introduced an overwhelming sense of hysteria.

And then, it dissipated, almost like smoke into the air.

As my eyes strayed to the left, an opening in the wall became prominent, slivers of pale sunlight scattering on the ground; a metal gate, maybe 8 feet in height, leading into what seemed to be an alleyway. I sprinted towards it, relief overpowering any other emotion I felt except the large amount of elation, and my feet pounded against the pavement, rough stones scuffing the soles of my shoes. Kicking it open was easy enough though, the lock rusty and unattended. It slammed into the wall with a relatively quiet, but seemingly cacophonous racket, squeaking and screeching it's protest at me before I rapidly twisted  to my left, wrenching it shut with an even louder crash of metal on metal, and jamming my 2x4 in the lock with enough force to rattle the heavy gate on its hinges.

I managed to make it just in time to see the whole group ram the gate seconds later, piling up against the gridded metal, decaying digits shoving themselves violently through the holes and causing a loud creaking from the side supports, loosened dust tumbling concerningly from the walls. They clawed and gnashed in my direction, flesh scraping and pulling taut in their desperation, trying mindlessly to get a grip on anything they could. It was obvious enough to say that I didn't give them the opportunity, but I stared dumbfoundedly at the gate as I kept my distance, stumbling backwards two steps at a time and heaving heavy breaths.