Day of the Fall

Three teens are forced out into a post-apocalyptic world after their colony is ravaged by the Infected.

Day of the fall

 

 I pop a forkful of food into my mouth while I pretend to listen to my friend, Danny’s, conversation of how much he misses the old world and its technology to pick up girls. Since I’ve stopped paying attention, it’s become more of a monologue. Before the Fallout, I would have invested myself in Danny’s banters. I’m a guy, anything to do with girls will get me invested. But I’m hardly the same person I was two and a half years ago. At least, I think so.
          “Do you remember Cecelia,” he asks me. I nod. The prettiest girl in school? How can I forget? “Dude, she had the biggest honkers ever! I regret not smashing.” Off the record, he was hopeless to ever get far with her.
          Even though the hospital’s cafeteria is filled with colonists, absorbed in their own discussions, I tell Danny to keep it down. He laughs. I laugh, too, remembering Cecelia and her “honkers” and because for a brief moment I became the person I lost since the world flipped upside-down. I look around for my dad then. He said he’d be here for dinner.
          “Lookin’ for your Army dad,” Danny guesses.
          “Yeah,” I reply absently.
          He shrugs. “Maybe he’s still asleep.”
          No, he isn’t. For two years, my dad has slept with one eye open; ready for a sudden attack. Even after we found this place, he still hasn’t felt entirely out of danger. And neither have I. Where is he? Three Guardsmen rush pass the doors, guns out. I furrow my brows.
          “What,” Danny asks me at my expression.
          “Nothing,” I say. I finish my tray"the last one for the day"and I notice two more men sprint in the same direction. Nobody reacts until the first riddle of bullets echo from outside. The colonists turn to the sound then look at one another for answers.
          Danny and I trade glances. “Maybe they took down one or two of them,” Danny reassures me or himself (I can’t tell), although the tone of his voice suggests he doesn’t believe it. Pops go off in the distance. The gunshots get drawn out. I almost feel it in my bones. But it’s the flashbacks that shake me to my core.
          “Did they find us?” A woman asks exasperatedly. Everyone shuffles a bit, unsure of which way to go.
          I’m turning this way and that, indecisive on which exist to take or if there really is anything to worry about. Danny grabs my shoulder and says, “Let’s find your dad.” And I’m thankful that he’s given me something to do.
          Just then a Guardsman walks in"or staggers"into the cafeteria with some blood trickling down his eye and sprinkled on his uniform. He has no rifle, I see, but he has a handgun strapped to his hip. Just the sight of him freezes everyone in place. “This is Code 5! We are evacuating the building! Follow the routes! Everybody, let’s go let’s go let’s go!” Suddenly, I am set in motion.
          I burst out of the cafeteria and race down the familiar halls to our room. My dad has to be there.
          “Liam, wait!” Danny is at my heels, sounding frantic. Maybe because I’m not following the routes. The further we go, the louder the maniacal sounds of the Infected become.
          I reach the room and fly inside. Empty. “Dad! Dad?!” I wonder if the Guardsmen had drafted his help considering his military experience. But if they did that means he’s in the danger zone. Dead or alive. I fight to keep my meal down. I search the room for our weapons, but they’re all gone.
          “Liam"come on, man, you’re dad’s probably evacuating, too. We gotta go.”
          “You know I can’t leave without him, Danny. I need to find"”
          “Oh, s**t! Liam!”
          I hurry out the room and look towards the direction Danny’s gaze seems to be glued on. Two ragged men, dripping with blood and lips pulled into sadistic smiles return our stares, hungrily.
          “Run,” Danny yells. He spins around and smacks right into a third ragged man, a Crazy. The Infected puts a hand on his shoulder and the touch freezes him. Out of old habits, I grab for the gun I don’t have. The Crazy thrusts his other arm forward, and the tip of a long knife spears out behind Danny’s shirt.
          My eyes widen and time suddenly slows down so I see and hear every detail of the blade slicing through skin, muscle, and bone clearly. “Danny!”
          The Crazy throws his bleeding body to the side and lunges for me. A red tuft pops out of his head and a loud crack soon follows. When it drops I see a man in a leather jacket with a gun tucked to his shoulder. My dad.
          “Liam, let’s go!”
          I take one last look at Danny’s blank stare before I take off with my old man. We’re joined by two other men, one of which was part of our group when we arrived to the colony. Jensen.
          “Two more on our tails,” Dad warns. “Take this.” He puts a loaded rifle in my hands. Now I feel less vulnerable. We round a few corners and find some scared colonists scrambling toward us. Dad holds his hands out in from of him. “Back! Go back! They’re coming!” Fear widens their eyes and they scurry the opposite direction. The whole building rumbles, lights flicker before a muffled roar explodes in the distance. The other men look at one another, except at me. Perhaps because I’m the youngest.
          “We can’t hold them back,” Jensen says.
          I hear a growl and the two Crazies that were behind us have caught up. I raise my rifle and pull the trigger twice. Each bullet pierces their skulls. “Nice shot,” one of them says, genuinely impressed.
          “There are a lot of people still stuck on these higher floors. We need to get them to the garages before the Crazies fully overrun this place,” my dad says.
          “The Guardsmen are on the front lines keeping the Crazies back,” the other man says. “They should be buying us some time.”
          “Then let’s not make their efforts vain.” My dad says in that respected voice of his.
          We scout a handful of floors above us, gathering people and killing Crazies. People from the highest floors had already descended for evacuation, making our task easier. “I knew this would happen sooner or later,” Dad mumbles as we run. “Never assume you’re out of the fight, Liam. That’s how we survive.”
          By the time we head for the garage, where the reinforced school buses are held, we have a sizeable group. Survivors board the buses crashing into the arms of their loved ones and crying. Everyone huddles up the steps. There are about nine buses in total, including ambulances, hauling the survivors inside. I don’t know if it’ll be enough to transport all of the colonists. I also don’t even know where each bus will go if we survive today. Is there a rendezvous point after this? Does anyone know where we’re going? Will we see these people again?
          The garage doors rattle open, like someone is forcing their way in. Oh, no! I draw my rifle to my cheek; my dad does the same, and fire into the horde of Crazies that flood inside. Somewhere, Jensen and the other armed colonists join us.
           “Get on the buses,” someone yells.
          Gunshots deafen my ears, but I continue to fire. All of the Crazies run to us waving their knives in the air, not even trying to get out of our line of fire. Bodies crash and slide, smearing blood on the concrete floor. Unfortunately for us, there are more Crazies than we have bullets. Once it becomes clear we can’t hold them back, we run. For some reason I sprint back the way we came. I figure the Crazies would’ve cut us off if we aimed for the buses. The Infected fan out around the garage. Their snorts and haunting laughs ring in my ears. The sound mixes with the tortured and frightened screams of my people experiencing a first-hand encounter with Crazies.
          I pass the threshold and bolt the lock on the door; I push my weight against it for good measure. Countless fists pound the door accompanied by high and low voices demanding me to open it. A chorus of demons requesting me. I back up slowly, thinking that without me the door will break apart, and I start panting. My rifle is clutched tightly in my hands. I’m alone. I’m alone.
          Controlling my breathing, I run through my available options. The garage is gone. But if my dad made it on one of those buses my best bet would be to catch up to them outside. Except, going outside is dangerous and all the vehicles are surrounded by Crazies. It’s suicide. My priority, nonetheless, is getting out of here, but the hospital is overrun, and I don’t have very many rounds left. I can go to the Resource Room, gather what I can and then…
          And then what? Well, my only other option is to leave, but how?
          The pounding on the door gets more violent and I can hear the doorframe begin to bend at the force of the Infected. I dart through a corridor, rifle to my chest, and climb a set of stairs. A door awaits me. And just past the door people are screaming. I kick the door wide open. The view halts me momentarily. Bodies are strewn up and down the floor. Some Crazies; mostly colonists.
          To my right, one of the survivors struggles to fight off a Crazy. “Run! Run,” he shouts. I notice two girls on the side, crying, unable to move. I know exactly how that feels. I raise my rifle as the Infected throws the man effortlessly to the opposite wall and flings his axe. The blade sticks just under the man’s collarbone and he sinks to the ground. When the Crazy faces me I blow his head off. Blood decorates the wall.
          “Dad,” the younger girl cries. She tries to reach for him but the older girl, probably her sister, holds her back.
          “Keep moving! They’re coming,” I urge them forward. They follow me hesitantly, unwilling to abandon their dying father. I swallow the guilt bubbling in my chest. We turn the corner. Everything is empty. Maybe they went up to higher floors, though I’ve got no way of knowing. The blood smeared on the walls lets me know they’ve passed through here, however. I stop at the end of the hall, catching my breath. I look at the girls. They’re crying, but staying composed.
          Good.
          The one who called out for her dad is, maybe, 14 or 15 years old. Her sister is likely my age, 17. They’re as disheveled as I feel. “I think they’ve moved on to the rest of the hospital,” I say. “Most of the floors are empty now. Find a weapon and follow the evacuation route. If you hear them, hide in a room and stay quiet until they’ve passed and don’t go to the garage. That area is gone. Just leave, okay?”
          “You’re going to leave us,” the older one asks mostly afraid.
          “I’m sorry, but I need to find my"” a high-pitched shrill sends shivers along my spine. Dozens of Crazies stampede toward us. Most of them brandishing a melee weapon. “S**t! Go, go, go!”
          Taking the evacuation route would lead to the neighboring parking lot, which I’m sure is drowning in Crazies. We stop at the end of the hall. “Which way,” the younger one asks. Right will take us to the cafeteria. Left leads to the Resources Room. I go left. Once we reach the Resource Room, I lock the door and quietly slide a desk to barricade it. The sounds of the Infected are distant and I hope to hell we’ve lost them. I edge off the desk and scan the place. The room is filled with shelves of supplies. It is the size of a living room. Apparently in all the chaos, no one had the time to grab anything from here. My one piece of luck.
          I sling my rifle over my shoulder. “Grab food, water, medicine"anything that’ll be useful,” I say.
          “What are we doing,” one of them asks.
          “We’re getting out of here.” I make my way for the large black cabinet at the corner of the room. It’s empty, save two handguns, an assault rifle, and some ammo. Better than nothing, I suppose. I snatch a bag and stash the pistols and boxes of ammo, slinging the assault rifle across my chest. I reload my hunting rifle and consider handing the girls a weapon. But with the stampede just outside those doors, we need to be extra quiet. Can’t have anyone popping off rounds because they get startled. And who knows if they can shoot?
          “Now what?”
          I turn around. Both girls have backpacks filled with supplies. They seem less afraid now. I guess because they had something to distract them. Let’s see how they handle outside these walls. “We move out.” I begin to walk towards the door when a low chuckle freezes me in place.
          “Get back,” the older girl puts her sister behind her as a tall man in a lab coat stands between us. His lips part in a sinister grin; bloodshot eyes. An I.D. badge is clipped on his coat. I can’t read it, but its logo is from this hospital. He was one of us.
          I aim the rifle at his head before I realize we’ll have a horde of Crazies on us if I shoot. He screeches and dives for me. I uppercut his face with the butt of my gun and he sprawls backward. Wasting no time, I jump on top of him and smash the rifle down on his head. I lose count how many times I strike but by the end of it, his head is a gushy, scarlet mess. Red is splattered all over the floor and my pants. I’m breathing heavily. The older girl grabs my shoulder. “What the hell are you doing?!”
          “Keep your voice down or you’ll get us killed.” I stand and wipe the blood off my weapon. “He turned. He would’ve killed us just like the rest of them,” I hiss. I return to the barricaded door and take a glance through the small, square window. The hallways are empty as far as I can see.
          “What do we do?” The younger one asks me trying really hard not to stare at the doctor’s body.
          Checking my rifle one last time, I say, “We’re getting out of the hospital and finding my dad. It’s our best hope of surviving the night.”
          “How do we know he isn’t dead, too,” the older one says.
          I spin to face her; rage evident in my eyes. It’s all I can do to not remind them that their father is dead. I slide the desk away. “He’s alive"now let’s move.” We file out of the room. Remnants of a nightmare sprawled and smeared all around. My gun is to my chest again. My eyes jump side to side anticipating an attack, although Crazies aren’t exactly known for their stealth.
          “Where did they go?” One of the girls asks.
          I don’t know, I mean to say, but the words never make it to my lips. Just before we reach the staircase, a door busts open and a man swings a wooden bat at us. Metal spikes jut out at the end. Nails. Without thinking, I lift the barrel of my rifle and blast a whole through the Crazy’s throat. Red mist sprays the white wall behind him where he slams into and falls. I look on in terror, but not because I’d just shot him…
          The guttural sounds follow immediately after. I curse. A horde of Infected storm at the end of the hall. We bolt down the spiral staircase; all attempts of being sneaky are out the window. We turn corners, run down halls, cross rooms, shoot and avoid Crazies. When a group of Infected cuts off our last exit, I shout, “This way!” And we scramble inside a small room. We ram the hospital bed to the door; fists thrash from the other side, rattling the frame. I put all my body weight against the barricade.
          “What do we do,” the older girl, who is helping me keep the door shut, asks.
          I try to remember how much ammunition I dug up at the Resource Room and if it will be enough to subside this horde and if these girls are good shots; I don’t know the answer to either. The other girl opens the window. “Through here,” she says and crawls to the outside.
          “Go,” I bark. I don’t mean to sound harsh but considering the situation…
          “What about them,” the older one asks me, fighting to steady her voice.
          “Be quick,” I say. She darts after her sister. Now with just me, the first Crazy manages to pop her head in. I catch her bloodshot eyes. Every last trace of humanity has whisked away long ago. She is just this thing that gets off on killing and stirring chaos. The combined strength of the Infected shove the door open and I slide across the floor. I jump to my feet and crawl through the window. The overturned hospital bed buys me a few extra seconds.
          I fall over the windowsill just as fingers claw at my boots. “Keep moving,” I say. The three of us head off across the hospital’s courtyard. Crazies dance in the perimeter, slaughtering our people. We stay close to the brushes by the wall. Fire engulfs the horizon and something ruptures inside the hospital and a red glow shines above us. I feel the heat on the back of my neck.
          We continue into the night away from the colony. Away from the Crazies and our people. But deeper into where I know danger waits for me.

Author's Note

I'm not entirely too sure about the opening of the chapter. Maybe I should start it off differently. Suggestions? And thanks for reading!
And by the way, TOTALLY apologize for the length of this chapter. I had no idea when I posted it.

Reviews

[Andrew Ballard]

Very interesting, and a nice start.

Definitely a zombie story, but it somehow feels different to me, and that helped keep my attention. I get a little confused on what exactly is going on, but it is never wholly off-putting. The biggest time was when his Dad seemed to just... disappear. There's no mention of how they get separated.

Could just be me, but even though I didn't know Danny that much, I really felt as if Liam did, which allowed me to see and understand the grief. Keep in mind it takes a VERY good story to get me to feel emotion physically. Which I didn't, but your writing feels as if, with polish, It could be a very emotional story.

Biggest thing that you need is to polish the writing, make it a bit smoother. Spelling and grammar as well, but those are less of a priority. All in all, good start, very engaging style, just polish it up. I am willing to answer any questions you may have or give advice.

First Piece of Advice: Keep Writing, I'd love to read more!