19:03
June 24, 2023Day One~Hundred
I sat on the edge of the bed, and I held my wounded hand up. It was wrapped tightly, and the medical tape had a thin dot of brownish blood that seeped through it.
Beside me on the bed sat my gas mask. It stared up at me with anything less than love. The old white spray paint remained prominent, and the cracked skull flashed with the remains of the old world.
I shook my head and dragged my eyes away from it. My old clothes may balled up in an air-sealed bag, and a pair of loose Wrangler jeans and a rolled up flannel shirt covered my freshly showered skin. I rubbed the long scar than ran down my right calf, and I sighed as I utilized a comb that I found in the bathroom.
Laughter trailed up the stairs, and I heard a few strong voices that danced around the house. A small voice giggled, and it sounded like the chining of sleigh bells.
Footsteps stomped, and for a moment, my mind dropped into panic and the hot desert. Bullets whizzed past my head, and I yelled to my partner as blood leaked from my battered face.
As I ran, a voice rose up behind me, and sharp pain erupted in my calf. Pain exploded, and I looked down to see a wave of black blood coating the sand in a jagged trail. More bullets whizzed by as I heard a loud snarl.
I jerked my head as I pulled myself from the memory. A whiff of grease wafted up the stairway and under my door, and my neglected stomach grumbled in irritation. Slowly, I got up from the bed that I had been sitting on for hours. My internal alarm clock was set at about 5:30 am. I had been sitting there waiting for the rest of the people inside the house to wake up, and I had sat there staring into the black eyes of the past.
I stood there, and moved over to the door slowly but surely. I knew that this time every day the people that lived here would move up the stairs and gift me eggs, bacon, and assorted biscuits and toasts; yet I still only picked at the eggs and flat out ignored everything else for the last 13 days. I opened the door, and made my way down the stair case. My left, unwounded hand felt for the wall, and I put my weight on it to ensure I didn't tumble down the hard wood.
Sadly, the awning rail was on the right side, and I refused to use that hand on it. My footsteps, while uneven due to the limp, were silent from the years I trained.
My eyes trailed along the large kitchen and the bacon that sizzled wildly on top of it.
A loud conversation ensued in the dining room that was directly ahead of the kitchen. I looked to the left where the empty living room was located, and decided I was rested 13-days-too-many.
I went right.
A large, dark skinned man sat quietly as he watched the other man at the end of the table rant. Beside him sat a pale, black-haired woman. They shot each other a look as the other man waved his hands in the air.
A young, blonde haired girl sat it a tall chair at the opposite side of the table. The girl that lead him here.
As he walked in, the caramel skinned man at the opposite end of the table went mute. He stared for a moment before he began to speak again. His lanky build gave him a non-threatening appearance, and his slight afro quivered as his head moved.
"Spero," he said, and a slight smile rose to his face.
The others at the table gave his small welcomes. The only one that didn't speak as the littler girl.
The large man gave her a glance before he stood, and calmly approached me. I watched him without a shred of fear, but I was still wary of these people.
He stuck his hand out. Slowly, I put my own out, and we shook.
"Tyrese," he said,"and that there is Keaton," he gestured to the wiry man,"Ava," he pointed at the pale woman,"and Raina," he finished as he aimed a finger at the child.
I gave a nod.
"You already know my name," I said in a gravelly voice that seemed to be my own.
Tyrese gave me a nod and turned to move back to his seat. I moved to the chair across from Ava, and sat down slowly.
"Well," said a familiar southern accent,"aren't ya hungry, Mister?"
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Spero: A Post-Apocalyptic Short Story |COMPLETE| ✔
Science Fiction|SCI-FI SHORT STORY| [Concluded] Eli Spero is a survivor. Always has been, always will be. It's just that simple. So when a so called nuclear attack is launched, it shouldn't be too hard to survive... Until he meets Raina, and ends up on the road...