I Will Live & Learn My Lesson

You Are Not

The tattooed boy dragged himself through the deserted, grey street. Green, blue and brown bins lay scattered about the road outside the houses; cars were missing windows and the houses were missing doors – this street had not had a fun time for the past year. It was completely empty of life, apart from the boy. This wasn’t necessarily bad, due to the fact if there was anyone else it would probably be an infected and that was definitely not something he could afford right this very second.

His stomach screamed at him as he walked. It had been almost two weeks since he’d last eaten properly and it was definitely not affecting him that well. He’d not had any water to drink in about that long either – it was actually a wonder he was still alive. I need food, he thought as he spotted a house that didn’t look like it had been touched at all since the apocalypse started. Well, he didn’t know if the world was actually ending, but it certainly seemed that way to him.

He willed his legs to work properly and walk, rather than just drag themselves forward in a half-assed attempt to move him. His breaths came in short, rapid puffs and he could feel his heart hammering against the inside of his ribcage. The lack of energy was affecting him a lot more than he realised. But regardless of all this, he made his way towards the house anyway. It was red bricked with three windows at the front, from what he could see the door was black; or brown and there was no garden – just a tarmac space where he supposed a car would be parked.

Once he reached it, after falling over a few times and having to pull himself back up again, he had to lean against the door to catch his breath. It was crazy that it actually took so much effort just to get a few feet away from where he originally was – but this is probably what dehydration did to you. Although, if he hadn’t been like this for quite a few days, he’d suspect that he’d somehow managed to contract the virus that was turning everyone into mindless cannibals, almost.

It was when the door swung open under his weight that he realised the house hadbeen broken into. “Dammit,” he cursed, his hoarse voice coming out as almost a whisper.

He didn’t give up though, he took a step into the house, hoping that he was wrong and the owners were just idiots that forgot to close the door once they’d fled to a refugee camp. Or died, the latter was far more likely than anything. It had been a good few months since he’d last come across a survivor, and that was his two friends – well, they probably didn’t consider him a friend any more seeing as they’d had a very very big argument over…something. He couldn’t even remember what it was over any more, all he knew was that he wished he hadn’t stormed out on the pair. Whatever it was over though, it was more likely Sean’s fault than anything – to say “that boy likes to make mountains out of molehills” was a definite understatement when it came to Sean fucking Smith.

Wherever they were now, if they weren’t dead of course, he hoped they were doing better without him. It was him that almost got the three of them killed every time. Hell, he bet that they even denied ever knowing him in the first place. Especially Josh. He bet Josh absolutely hated his guts. Fuck, I miss him… he sighed, “Joshie…”

He’d walked through one of the doors into the kitchen as he said his ex’s name. He was met by a loud grunt. Alarmed, he looked up, wide eyed. Standing before him were two of the undead. One was extremely tall with only half his hair remaining, he was wearing a black t-shirt and very short denim shorts. The other was a girl, he suspected; her long blonde hair remained intact, unlike her ripped white vest and denim skirt.

“Shit!” he gasped before turning on his heel and sprinting towards the stairs beside the front door. Adrenaline filled his system, giving him a small amount of energy – but it was enough to kick his body into survival mode. He climbed up the stairs quickly, tripping over once he reached the top. He squeezed his eyes shut as he made impact with the carpeted floor.

There was a horrible smell in the air, it was enough to make him gag. It couldn’t be the zombies – they were obviously slow-walkers considering they hadn’t caught up with him yet. Slow-walkers were basically what the title said, they were older zombies – having been members of the undead for a few months. The fast ones were the more horrific ones, having only been changed for a short period of time – they were stronger, those were the ones you had to look out for.

He opened his eyes slowly only to see a mostly-decomposed skull, only centimetres from his face. A loud scream escaped his lips and he clambered upwards, holding onto the banister of the stairs for support. He could hear the zombies climbing up the stairs after him. Fuck he swore to himself and darted into the nearest room, the bathroom.

“What do I do?!” he yelled at the empty room around him. “Shit what the fuck do I do?!”

At this point, the zombies were pounding on the door. He could feel the wood breaking under the force of their fists and feet. He looked around desperately for something he could use to defend himself, but all there was was a towel, a toothbrush and some toilet roll.

“God, I know I think you’re the biggest load of bullshit ever,” he said aloud, looking up to the white ceiling of the bathroom, “but if you could just get me out of this mess, I swear I’ll…stop calling you the biggest load of bullshit ever.”

The pounding on the door didn’t stop. He stood facing away from the door, he was supposed to be brave, but he had no energy and right now he didn’t particularly want to look Death in the face. But curiosity almost overwhelmed this as the noises stopped completely.

Thump.

He turned around slowly to look at the door, it was still closed. There was anotherthump, just a few seconds after the first one.

The door handle turned. But he’d locked the door, so that was pretty pointless. The person on the other side realised this, so they released the handle. “Oli?” someone called in after a moment of hesitation.

Recognising the voice to be someone that he’d never thought he’d see in a million years, he hesitantly moved towards the door before unlocking it. The door swung back as the person heard it unlock and opened it quickly. His suspicions were confirmed.

“Josh!” his voice came out somewhere between a squeak and a whisper. A grin spread across his face before he dived towards the boy and engulfed him in a hug.