Bite {Niall Centric}

Day 677 - Night

If it weren't for that damn gas station, Niall would be at the farm already. However, he was stuck squinting at poorly placed street signs to find his way. Really, it was his own fault for being distracted by the stacks of lottery tickets; he couldn't help himself as he scratched every single card just to see if he could manage to win the lottery to add on to the list of pointless accomplishments in this apocalyptic life. He won several hundred pounds, but no mega-million jackpot.

His headlights lit up the gravel road, indicating that indeed, he was in the country and nearing the farm. He hated to hear the crunch, but as far as he could see with a quick turn of his head left and right, the barren fields were empty. In fact, it seemed a bit too lifeless. Where were the animals and the insects? Niall rolled down his window.

Nothing but gravel crunching under tires.

It was unnerving to say the least. Niall rolled the window back up and turned on the radio. Static. He turned the knob until a folk song started to play clearly but quietly. Niall turned the volume up slightly, not wanting to draw attention despite the lack of life around him.

He didn't know the song, but it was nice, and simple enough to where he could hum along with it after the second verse. His fingers even drummed along the steering wheel, a slight smile coming to his face even though he still didn't quite know where he was going.

His eyes grew heavy, a yawn threatening to escape; Niall shook his head gently, trying to wake himself up. He pressed down on the pedal a bit more, hoping to find the farm quickly. He spotted another sign, slowing a bit to read the letters. Creek Road.

This was it, so Niall turned left and sped down the now dirt road until he saw large looming shadows shaped like a farmhouse, a stable, and a barn. He pulled into the driveway and parked before grabbing his gun and backpack, fishing out his flashlight from the latter item.

Walking up to the front door of the farmhouse was slightly unsettling. The soundless landscape served as an awful background, so the creak of the boards under his feet were welcome as he stepped onto the porch. This felt all too strange; he wished the boys were here. Everything would be livelier, if not, louder. Why was silence so despised, alone, in the dead of night?

He tried the door handle even though he already knew it would be locked; the elderly couple were adamant about that. Niall looked under the welcome mat. Nothing. He looked under and behind plant pots, under chair cushions, in the plant pots, and then under a random rock in the far corner of the porch. Still nothing. Finally, he checked the top of the door frame, balancing on the tips of his toes as he felt along the dusty surface gently, careful to avoid splinters. Cold metal graced his fingertips, a smile forming on his face.

He inserted the key into the lock, quickly going inside and shutting the door behind him, locking it and sliding the deadbolt in place. It was cold inside, which made sense considering it was somewhat freezing outside. He tried the light switch, relief swimming through him when the lights came on. He toured the inside, gun in hand at all times. It was empty, all windows and doors locked, including the cellar doors. By the time he was done, Niall found himself no longer tired.

He sat on the couch with a frown, pulling out a package of crackers. They were stale but flavorful. Crumbs were getting everywhere, naturally, so he brushed them into the floor to sweep up later. No sense in keeping a dirty house, at least in respect of the elderly couple.

Feeling bored, Niall stood up again, walking over to the oil paintings hanging along the staircase. Lately, he just liked observing things, appreciating them. It all felt surreal when he looked at the everyday things depicted in pictures and movies, only some of which he could do present day with a semblance of normalcy.

Everything was so boring, even staring at the yellow flowers sponged into the field of tiny green brushstrokes. His eyes moved to the television and the rows of movies lined along the shelves of the entertainment center. He really liked that about Ed and Linda - they were film enthusiasts, especially fond of the classics. That meant black and white with terrible audio and voice-overs. However, it was one of the main reasons Niall enjoyed them.

He was pleased to find the DVD player in the flat-screen worked, the remastered silent film, Metropolis, starting to play. He sunk to the floor, laying against the back of the couch. The sleeve of crackers was empty now, but he still felt hungry. He paused the movie, going into the kitchen. Searching the cupboards, he found flour, sugar, and more - maybe expired - baking supplies and spices. He even found some tea, reminding him of Mrs. Baker.

He wondered how she was doing after he left. Perhaps he should have stayed, but the thought went away quickly. He'd much rather watch old films than be in the suffocating depression. He hoped she would come along with him, give her something to look forward to. Niall knew he would appreciate the company.

He decided he would make pancakes when he came across maple syrup, locating a frying pan in the cabinet next to the stove. It was an easy process up until he had to flip the pancake. The spatula he used was comically large, probably so for the sole purpose of flipping, but nonetheless, he only managed a fifty percent success rate. That left him with three pancakes and three mistakes.

He loaded his plate up, smothering the food in syrup before settling back on the floor. He resumed Metropolis, digging into the pancakes. Even the mistakes tasted good. It made him wish the boys were here with him to enjoy it, too. Niall sighed at the thought. He kept going back to them, thinking about where they could possibly be. Did they miss him as much as he did them?

Suddenly, there was a noise outside, breaking him from his steadily downward spiral of thoughts. Leaves rustling. It set Niall on edge,even though it was probably just the wind. He grabbed his gun and flashlight, making his way to the window that overlooked the porch and driveway. He peeked behind the curtain, looking around and squinting into the darkness for several minutes. He turned away but didn't move, standing there and listening for longer than he ought to - about ten minutes judging by the grandfather clock in the corner.

When nothing else made a sound, he let out a sigh of relief, chalking it up to paranoia or his wild imagination. He sat back down, this time on the couch. The movie was close to ending, fortunately, as Niall was beginning to grow tired. Maybe that was it, too. The brunette was just hearing things in his weary state.

Or perhaps loneliness was starting to really take its toll on him.