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Inside (An apocalyptic tale)


Saemunder

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If you managed to read it all thank you. What would you think of living in this type of apocalypse?

 

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...and another glorious day in sunny Alabama, the winds are sure to pick up…

Matt forced himself to stay awake, falling asleep might make noise and noise was what he didn’t want. It was funny though, he hadn’t watched news or listened much to the talk stations on the radio and yet he was imagining American broadcasts with news people he was familiar with. He waited. There was no way he was going to climb out when they were still about. He could hear the scrape of furniture. No doubt they were checking if anything valuable was hidden. Three days he had remained trapped in this place, three days of almost sleepless nights, of feeling like he was going to die of thirst, of being fed up of being hungry. Maybe he should have paid attention to the news. Certainly they would have said something that would have caught his attention. One of them banged the floor close to him; an argument erupted questioning the stupidity of the one that clearly was interested in the ceiling. The argument was hushed though; no one wanted too much noise and with the day ending they weren’t keen to stay for much longer. Matt shoved the small pocket knife into his leg. He couldn’t fall asleep now, not now when he had an opportunity. The pain would keep him awake. The worst part was waiting till after, it was impossible to know how safe the place was. Stilling trembling hands he made his way to the entry into this attic, moved three boards from the edge, checked the bathroom and climbed down using the old piping for the cistern and the boiler. Figuring that most people would assume that either there was no attic or that there was no easy access to it had paid off. It helped that the attic had exterior slats that made it seem that the space was unimportant; as did cutting the cord and obscuring anything that seemed like access to the traditional entrance. He listened at the door. It wasn’t the American holiday he had imagined. Noticing the pain in his leg wasn’t going away he looked down to see that blood stained his jeans. Shit he thought, definitely too much wanting only some pain to force him to stay awake not to actually cut himself. Exiting the bathroom the place was quiet so he made his way to the door before cursing himself for needing to go back and hide the entrance. The exhaustion was catching up.

 

Once outside it was peaceful, chirp’s of birds going about their business, the fire in the distance must have burnt itself out with the smoke pillar looking much smaller than early that morning. Matt was glad at how quiet it was. Looking at the watch he figured perhaps one or two more hours of sunlight. It would have to be enough time. Quickly making his way down the road he turned left, this section seemed to have these older almost mansion like houses. Most had two storeys, large open front yards with trees that lined the road. The trees reminded him of home. No, he had to stop the thought, focusing on the house he had seen from the attic. It looked untouched. Listening at the windows he heard silence so he went to the other side and listened. He barely caught himself on the wall; the exhaustion was making him feel sluggish. Nothing, good. Whatever type of mutt they had must have been a scrawny one; squeezing through the dog door wasn’t as easy as he had thought it would be. Once inside the search began. Most of the house looked ransacked, photos missing from frames, furniture shifted from the marks that time had made around them, clothes partially strewn down the stairs. The kitchen only had trash until he came upon one cupboard that hadn’t even been touched. Inside were two cans of what was vet quality dog food according to the label. Checking the downstairs cupboards he found a bag with a camping can opener. For once luck was on his side. Making his way upstairs a smell started to make his mouth water, sweet and sharp, something was dead up there. At the top the smell was so intense he felt like retching; this humidity and heat hadn’t done this thing any favours. It still made his stomach rumble. He found it in the first room. That mutt was a yorkie. It was in the small bed at the foot of a kids bunk bed, Matt sighed, atleast the owners had thought to not make it suffer. The rest of the place looked as if it were burgled with the contents of almost every draw piled onto the floors. A pink vest and olive green skirt lay to the one side of the second room. A girl’s room, teenager from the size of the clothes, lucky cause she had her own bathroom. Inside the bathroom Matt filled the two plastic bottles he had found in the kitchen, he felt so heavy like ages ago when three of his friends and him had dared each other to stay awake for four days. Where were they now? Slumping into the bathtub he opened a can and ate. As a kid his curiosity had got the best of him with the dog’s kibble; god his mother was angry when she found him with his partner in crime, a small Maltese. This stuff wasn’t anywhere near as bad as that kibble. He smiled thinking of what she would do to him now.

 

“Come on, put on something good”

“This is good”, came the reply.

Racheal was fiddling with the radio of the rental. There had to be something atleast half good on. Matt stared at her leg, she was wearing these cutoff jeans with boots on. She had to have done that on purpose. She caught his glance, “Sure you’re up to drive? The roads not down here you know.” Matt had always wanted to just drive across America enjoying the things that could only be seen while on the road so for this vacation she had surprised him with tickets. She even had things arranged with his boss. The entire vacation was to last three months which wasn’t an easy thing to sell but she had managed it.

“So whacha thinking?” she was still fiddling with the radio.

“That you did it on purpose” Matt’s attention was back to the road.

“I might have, just wait when we get settled in tonight” Racheal leaned in and whispered that last bit in his ear.

 

The pain in Matt’s shoulder was killing him. Fucking stupid repeated in his mind. He had fallen asleep in the bath. It took a while to get out, even longer getting his balance while his leg recovered from pins and needles. Looking at his watch it was just after nine as he wound it. Racheal had always said that if it stopped so would he. Forgetting the smell he gagged as he opened the bathroom door. Remember the goal he thought. All he had to do was double back to the bags near the rental without getting caught then he’d have a proper hiking bag and maps. Opting to use a window for his escape he noticed the shed in the backyard. Anything was better as a weapon then a small pocket knife. It was padlocked but maybe he could break the already loose latch. A sobbing sound came from behind the shed. Remembering everything that he had seen Matt froze. The sobbing was in some odd tone, like it was being grated in a weird pitch.

“Please…” the sound came. Matt just wanted to shrink into nothing; the pleading in their eyes haunted him.

“Kill me…” it whispered as it moved off slowly. Matts knuckles were white, his hand ached with how hard he had held that pocket knife. His body forced a breath. Quickly he gave up on the shed jumping the low wall making his way away from the sound using backyards for cover. Two blocks down something caught his eye. At first it was a small movement in the house. A figure toppled through the window arms trying to lessen the impact. In a flash she was up, it was definitely a she with the way she screamed. It sounded inhumane, shrill just like…and that’s when he saw it. It fell through the now open window, a piece of glass broke. The back of its head looked like lesions that ran down the neck. It’s, it’s, he was begging while she ran not daring to look back. Matt heard another footfall, searched for someplace to hide. The house nearby had a space under the porch. One ran past, then another, then three, his eyes saw a blotched figure run past where he had stood. All the while that woman ran and wailed. She didn’t get far tiring herself out like that. The gurgled scream could be heard from the porch.

“No, no, no, no, no…” could be heard from the last one making its way to where the woman had fallen. Matt cleared his eyes doubling back to where the shed was in an attempt to get to the attic. His legs wobbled, some of what he ate made its way back up his throat. Being as cautious as he was it had taken an hour just to move these few blocks. Rounding a corner from the detour he had taken he saw a car in the distance. It was a godsend with the lights still on but near it a figure collapsed, got up then with another step collapsed repeating its laboured walk toward the car. Nothing to do but wait so he made the last turn toward the attic. Passing through a garden he froze when he saw a girl, she must have been ten or maybe younger. She was hunched over, her brown long hair dangling, her red oversized shirt torn revealing the vest underneath. The vest was crimson, a rib showing from under her left arm.

“P-pleease get up mommy” came the plea in that tinny off pitch way. There was a body under her and as he stared she ripped at it.

“…I don’t wanna eat anymo…” the complaint was cut off as more was packed into her mouth. He edged around her as far away as he could. She began sobbing begging her mother to stop it, to stop her. Matt just slipped away. Just as he was about to make the climb into the attic he threw up. He could still hear her outside. He gagged. The attic didn’t stop the noise. The worst that can happen is you die right? That’s what that guy had said half-heartedly before he drew them away from the gas station. This was worse than death, being trapped in there, inside but not being able to do a damn thing about it. The car with its lights on could be seen from the attic so Matt waited for the streets to clear.

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Well the jumping around was meant to cause confusion and uncertainty given the state the guy is in but yeah. Looking at it again and again all I find are faults, yet at the same time it would feel a waste to go through every tiny step if you mean jumps in the paragraphs. Between paragraphs may be a bit jarring but it wasn't to horrid was it? I think that dates/times wouldn't serve the story so I'll remember to clean up how it progresses.

 

Sadly the internet doesn't let me see sarcasm, was the setting decent enough to make sense without going overboard on detail while giving enough detail on what mattered?

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