Spero: A Post-Apocalyptic Short Story |COMPLETE| ✔

<EIGHT>

07:25
July 4, 2023
Day One~Hundred and Six

Tyrese slammed the brakes and practically ripped the key from the ignition. The Walkie-Talkie's static had stopped a while ago. Ava's voice had silenced.

He jumped from the truck, flinging the door closed and sprinting as fast as I had ever seen a man go. I kicked into gear and grasped his shoulders as he moved up the brick stairs to the front door. It was ajar.

I tugged him back, pulling him away. He fought me, and his elbows rained down vicious blows. I tried to tell him words of wisdom and warnings of what he might see. He pulled free, but I found myself in front of the big man. I shoved him backwards, and I hooked my leg around his knee. I jabbed hard with my heel, and he collapsed to the dusty Earth.

He stayed there, knee bowed in line with his head. His shaved head was all I could see, and he glared down at the ground as his shoulders shook.

I looked inside the door, and dread and horror built in my stomach. I looked away from the scene in front of me.

Ava.

I grit my teeth, and closed the door behind me. I had to find Raina and the other man, Keaton.

Inside, the house was a terror. There were papers flung about, and the freezer was overturned. There were deep red footprints strewn across the floor, and I found myself in a remembrance from an earlier time.

As I walked, I caught my reflection in an overturned vase: distorted, menacing, and a bearer of death.

I looked away, and retrieved a blanket that used to adorn the back of the shredded couch. I looked down at the woman that I knew as Ava, and I gently wrapped her in the pale blue quilt. I gagged as I turn away, and I prepared myself for what I would see next as I moved up the black staircase. The white skull on my night colored mask flashed menacingly in the small sliver of light that escaped.

The double pistol holster hung from my hips, and both of my hands gripped each of the handles.

The upstairs door was wide open, and I braved myself as I slowly unholstered one of the weapons. With my other hand I pushed open the door.

Nothing.

The room was empty.

The weapon was still firm in hand, and I refused to return it to its holster. My feet sunk into the soft carpeted floor in the room, and my eyes scanned for any sign that someone was here.

I made no noise as I checked the bathroom and the closet. I gazed around the room until I spotted the one obvious place: under the bed.

I moved from the end of the bed, where the quilt that hung over the edge covered any view that the person under the bed may have.

I slid my weapon into my holster an winced sardonically as it gave a small, but very audible, click. Just as I was about to swing into action, I hear a stifled cry. The noise a child would make.

I stepped back, surprise etching on my face before I finally realized the situation. Raina was under that bed, and it was possible that the people that had killed Ava were still here or they were going to come back.

I shook my head before slowly lifting the cover on the side of the bed. Just before I made eye contact, a flurry of hands and tiny elbows were raining down.

Damn!

I grabbed her arms, and she struggled like a feral dog.

I held one of her arms with my hand, and with the other I tugged a the back of my mask.

"Raina!"

The girl stopped, positioned on top of me with a fire in her ice blue eyes.

Her small frame slowly took in the fact that she was looking at a man that she knew. A man that did not want to hurt her.

"Spero," she said in her small country voice.

I looked at her with a sorrowful smile.

And in that moment of relief, she laid her little head down on my chest.

Then, we heard the scream.

The moment of peace and relief was over, and I pushed off the ground with my arms wrapped around the girl.

I hugged her to my shoulder as I ran down the stairs and pulled my mask onto her face. I pushed her eyes into my neck; I didn't know what I might see, but I knew I didn't want her to see it.