Antemortem Ch. 1

Here's a story i'm doing for a college project.  Thought i'd put a few chapters on here, see what you guys think.  It ain't expert grade or anything, so excuse the grammar, crappy writing, ect.  enjoy

Chapter 1

The sun did little to warm his nerves

He stood in the vast void that used to be called a parking lot. Now, just a graveyard for decaying cars and rubble, he pondered the reasons it had to come to this. Before him was the local grocery store, at least it was before it all happened. Now it was just a building if one could call it that. A shamble of its former self rotting and falling apart wherever you could turn your eyes to. The great green letters that once hung above were mostly on the pavement below, smashed and riddled with what appeared to be bullet holes. The paint had long chipped away making it look rusted and morbid.

A sharp whine was heard from his side. He turned his head to the dog that stood a foot behind him. Its head was low and ears back. It too knew that this was possibly the stupidest idea they ever had.

“I know, but what other choice do we have.”

The wind picked up suddenly and brought with it the painful reminder of the winter months as its icy grasp sent a chill down his spine that his denim jacket did little to protect him from. The sun was retreating behind a blanket of black clouds casting a shadow over the lot. Not even the light was going to follow him into this place. It seemed as if everything else around him was smarter, but this was the last option. If he had anywhere else to go, he wouldn't be standing there. The breeze subsided for a moment leaving the bitterness and cold it brought. Cold...that was the word, but it wasn't close to reality. This was desolate, lonely, dead...Cold was just a word for a lack of better.

The dog gave a slight yip as it pressed its cold nose against the man's hand. “You're not helping,” he said. “I don't want to go in there anymore than you do.” The dog let out a low whine as he patted its head. “Let's get it over with so we can go home, alright?” And with that, the man began his death march towards the building. Each footstep was like a mile long and full of hesitation. His boots sent an echo through the desolate place. A knee surgery from the years before gave him a slight limp making the claps on the pavement a different tone. Clip, clop, clip clop, clip, clop. Each step seemed to get louder as he got closer to the front doors repeating itself in a hypnotic tone like a metronome. Clip, clop, clip clop...the sound he made was drowned out however by the beating of his heart. It pounded on his ribcage like a crazed beasts trying to break free. A cold sweat trailed down his neck making him shiver.

The trekking pack strapped to his back shuffled with each limp. He used to use it to go camping with his friends. Now, it was so he could lug everything he needed to survive when he went outside. It had a large metal frame so a hiker could strap a sleeping back to the bottom, but this was used to hold his shotgun and baseball bat. At his side, a small .22 pistol that his grandfather gave to him years ago. His last line of defense...might as well throw a sock with a rock in it though (might do more damage too). But beggars couldn't be choosers and anything between you and one of them is a godsend.

He shifted the weight of the heavy pack so the uncomfortable straps on his shoulders would stop digging in. He was supposed to pack light. That way, he could haul back as much as possible when he got in. But in case he ran into any of them in there, he couldn't risk not going without protection, and he was certain to find them in there. They didn't seem to act so intelligent at first. They just ran and fed like many expected them to. But as time ran on and fresh food came short, their tactics changed as well. It was almost like they were setting traps, almost like they knew that humans needed these things, almost like they were learning. They began to migrate, colonize in certain areas; areas like where humans needed to go such as pharmacies, drug stores, clothing shops, supermarkets...

And now, look where he found himself. He had only survived for all these years by hiding, laying low, staying as far away from them as possible. Now he was waltzing right into a nest of them. His only hope was that the ones in here had either starved to death or moved on. Fad chance, but it was a hope. He never used to take risks like this, wouldn't even come close to areas where they'd be found, but now he was desperate. They hadn't eaten in a couple days. Their food storage had lasted them about two years, but it wasn't infinite. Eventually, he had to go scavenging, loitering the ruins and dead for things to survive with. But survival was survival and you have to do whatever it takes to wake up the next day. But unfortunately, that didn't last long either. There were plenty of houses around his, plenty of pantries, plenty of fridges. However, food doesn't last forever and after two years there wasn't much left. Canned and dehydrated food were a miracle to come across, but still scarce. He should have gone searching long ago, way before his food storage got low. But he didn't think that it would have taken this long. He thought that the military would have taken control of the city within a few months, maybe at most a year. Judging by the empty tanks, military outposts, and corpses wearing cammo, they fared just as well as the citizens did.

The remains of the vehicles he passed by looked like they had seen better days as well. Most were turned on their side or consumed by fire long ago, but the ones who remained sat still in their spaces waiting for their masters to come back from the store to claim them. Rust had long claimed its dominion over their hulls and the windows and tires were all but destroyed. The days had not been kind to them, but at least they had company to shrivel away with. Odd, they were still parked so neatly and calmly. Makes you think, where were they when it all happened? Were they stuck inside when they broke in, or did they just abandon their vehicles and ran for safety? Didn't seem to have done them any good anyways.

Finally, after his long haul to the front, the man had made it to his destination. The black and empty maw that made up the front doors to the supermarket bade him to turn back. The air flowing out was warm and had an odious stench about it. It smelt of iron, mold, decomposition...He took a step back in demurral. It reeked of them, plus there was no light. They hated the light...they would love it in here. He looked down at his companion who too took a step back. “Ladies first.” The dog didn't even look up at him. “Fine, I'll go first you chicken.”

His hand searched the side pocket of his trekking pack and produced a large LED flashlight. Good thing to stock up in, especially in places such as this. His thumb pressed on the rubber button to turn it on, but he didn't have the nerve yet. The chances of finding food in there and getting out without incident versus getting slaughtered were stacked unfairly. “You have no choice, you have no choice, you have no choice,” he repeated to himself. This did little to comfort him of course. But, with the daylight fading more behind the storm clouds and night approaching, he had to hurry. Night was their hour to feed.

Click!

A bright beam of light penetrated the darkness sending it scurrying to all corners. A pathway was lit up to the inside, and so he went. The doors were broken down and laid in pieces scattered about the ground. The bent and rend edges hinted that it was torn open. By desperate humans, or hungry infected, there was no way of knowing. When you get that desperate, there's nothing separating man from beast.

After the entrance, the man and his dog were swallowed by the shadows and welcomed into the dark depths of their impending death. The ruins of the market were in shambles. Rows upon rows of shelves were toppled upon one another with moldy and rotten food littering the ground. It had been there for years...no good to anyone save the flies that swarmed around them. That would do him no good. His thin beam of light was strong, but it had little effect on the overwhelming darkness. He could illuminate only one small section at a time unless he risked shining the light down a distance, but that might make his presence noticeable if it wasn't already noted.

He couldn't see the dog beside him, but he knew it was there. He could practically hear its bone rattle with how hard it was trembling (or perhaps that was him, he couldn't tell). A foggy exhale floated in front of his vision. Odd, the air was hot and humid in here, yet his breath still chilly. He observed his surroundings for a moment longer still not able to bring up the nerve to venture on. But he had lingered far too long as it was. The sooner he found what he was looking for, the sooner he could leave this retched place.

As softly as he could muster, he tip toed his way past the crushed and broken cash registers. There were chips and candy still on the stands or on the floor by them, but no use trying those. The mold and dust that caked itself over long since claimed them as its own. He shined his light down each isle as he passed. Each time the light shot down the metal corridors, he half expected one of them to be staring back. But nothing yet, maybe luck was on his side today.

The further he ventured in it seemed, the stronger the smell got. It filled his nostrils and caused his stomach to churn violently. If he wasn't so petrified of making any kind of noise, he would have been gagging. He never got used to this smell, not for the past few years of his isolation. It first hovered around the homes around his as families one by one were lost to the infected. Their screams would always pierce his memories at night and he knew that they were gone. Neighbors, friends, all eventually disappeared and replaced by that stench. But this, this was overpowering.

Suddenly, he heard his dog halt. His nerves froze as he turned the light on his friend. Its ears were up and it was sniffing the air intently. Oh no...not now...not when he couldn't even see three feet in front of him! Its head turned from side to side trying to make out whatever it was smelling. Its tail was straight as a board. The usual sign of something bad coming. Slowly he reached for the shotgun at his back ready to take on what was coming. A tense moment passed, but eventually, the dogs tail relaxed and it looked up at its master. “Nothing, eh?” he whispered patting its head. “You just about gave me a heart attack.”

After a moment to recollect himself, he returned his attention at the task at hand and continued on his way. So far, no luck. Paper towels and diapers seemed to be plenty in stock though. Obviously cleanliness and happy babies were the last thing on people's minds when they raided the place. His heart sank as he scanned down each isle. Nothing...not even canned food. The ones that were left were either empty tins or crushed. There had to be something in here, anything at all. It could be a jar of dehydrated onions for all he cared, he'd eat it like it was candy.

Last isle...this was it. He crossed his fingers, and turned the corner slowly. Nothing much...a toppled shelf, scattered and broken soy sauce bottles, remnants of what used to be the “foreign food” section. Nothing here for him either. This was all for nothing. He should have just followed his common sense and searched through another neighborhood. A heavy sigh escaped his pale lips and he was about to turn to go, but something caught his eye. A plastic bag sticking out of the side of the fallen shelf. It looked like it had mass to it under the dust...could it be?

“Watch this for me,” he whispered to the dog setting it down on the floor shining on the spot. He bent down and grabbed the plastic bag tenderly like it was going to shrivel if he was too forceful. He slid it out slowly, his heart pounding in anticipation. A smile came upon him for the first time since his crazy mind thought of coming to this place. A bag of rice, big one too. It would be a pain to make since he had no idea how to cook rice without a microwave, but this could at least keep him alive for awhile longer while he searched more houses for food. Now all he had to do was put it in his pack. But before he could unhook the straps, he saw a movement in the corner of his eye. It was the dog...its ears shot up and back went straight. A low grow escaped its snarling teeth as its nose pointed down the isle they were in. The light was focused on the bag. He couldn't see a thing down there. He heard nothing, just his dog growling fiercely. It only growled when it smelt one of them.

Slowly and cautiously, he reached for the shotgun...

Suddenly, with a loud shriek, a silhouette lunged from the darkness tackling him down. A cry of surprise echoed throughout the store as the creature tried to wrestle its way past his arms. He quickly pressed his left forearm against its throat as its head came inches from his face. Its putrid teeth gnashed and snarled sending fowl smelling saliva over his face. The dog had a hold of the things leg and was trying to jerk him off of its master, but it was to no avail.

The infected clawed and fought against him trying to push his arm from its throat. His right hand searched at his hip looking for his knife. With every passing moment, the thing got closer to his face. The smell of its breath was enough to knock a man out cold. Where was it?! He always had a Buck Knife strapped to his right, but of course when he needed it the most he couldn't find it. Something cold brushed by his fingers. There it was! The knife jerked out of its sheath and rested in his hand. Then, with as much strength as he could muster, he rammed it into the side of its head. Dark blood gushed out speckling his arm and face. It struggled for a few moments longer, but soon it stopped thrashing around and fell limp on top of him.

Pushing the corpse off of him and pulling the knife out of its temple, he sat up panting heavily. The light, where was the light? The beam had been displaced, so the flashlight had to have been shuffled during the struggle. It was shining on the dog who was sniffing over the body vigorously. His breathing was frantic and terrified, but slowly his nerves returned to him. A slight chuckle escaped his raspy breath. Never cut it that close before.

But his victory was short lived, for the dog suddenly froze again. It turned its head to the darkness and began barking loudly. His nerves froze again. The sounds of shuffling and snarling were heard in the black abyss ahead. The beam of light cast shadows about the isle, shadows that were approaching hastily. They were coming!

He was up and running before he could even think of what to do next. It was pitch black, but he could see the light entering from the front. Adrenaline coursed through his veins. Logic and reason meant nothing right now, just survival. He didn't even know how he was going to get out of this, all he knew is that if he stopped for a moment to think, he was a dead man. The dog ran beside him, it's collar rattling as its legs pumped.

Behind him, he could hear the horde approaching. Their snarls and growls echoed in the ruins like they were right beside him. The light was approaching, he was almost out! If he could get out to the sun, then it would slow them down at the very least. His left should smashed against something in the darkness sending an explosive pain throughout his arm, but he couldn't afford to slow down. Just a few more feet...

The sun bathed him in light, but it was of no comfort. The clouds had covered the rays, they wouldn't be bothered by it. A slight curse escaped his lips in frustration. He could still hear the horde behind growing closer and closer. Their hunger drove them much more than his adrenaline and body could. His crippled knee raged with agony and his breath began to rattle. An asthmatic, and no pharmacy to get an inhaler for years. He couldn't do this. If he tried to outrun them, he'd be dead within the minutes. He had to use his brain.

The man and his dog turned down the street to go down hill. That would give them an edge, but at the bottom of the hill was a pileup of cars from the panic eight years ago. If he could get over it, then it should give him a moment to escape. He tried to push himself faster despite his gasps of air turning into wheezes. His heart raged against his chest, but he couldn't give it a second thought.

Up ahead was the pileup. Different cars all jammed up against an overturned semi in the middle. It was his only hope of getting back to his refuge unscathed. He couldn't fail. Quickly, he jumped up at the first car rolling over it. Behind came distinct thuds as the infected smashed into the vacant cars. Their lust for food made them physically superior, but not mentally. The man climbed and snaked his way through the pileup as the dog crawled under or over the cars. More thuds were heard here and there as the snarls and shrieks began to distance themselves a little. The extra strain of the climbs took a hit on his stamina, but it was worth it.

He made it out of the pileup, but he couldn't stop to see how much the obstacles gave him. On he pressed despite his coughs and wheezes. Fire engulfed his right knee forcing him to a limp. Thankfully, the street was right up ahead. His house wasn't far, but far enough to see him dead. A sharp left turn and he was almost home bound. Almost safe, almost safe! He just had to make it there before they caught up!

Up ahead he could see it, the pointed brown home amongst the rest. An exhausted smile came over him. His home...he was home.

But his moment of victory was caught short as a sudden impact sent him to the floor. An infected had tackled him from behind and was trying its best to gnaw its way through his trek pack. The tumble made him loose his senses for a moment. The world seemed to be at a blur, and his ears rang. His hand came to his head and felt something warm. Blood..he must have hit his head on the fall. Come on, try to push through it, you're almost there!

With as much effort as he could muster, he elbowed the infected from behind and rolled onto his back. There, he came face to face with one of the monsters for the first time in years. He had almost forgotten how vile they looked in the light. Humans, but only by stature. The rotting flesh, the discolored skin, and the sunken beady eyes. To call them human was a stretch, they weren't anymore, they were something else entirely.

The creature took a second to recover itself, but it soon lunged at its downed prey. The man reached for his side and produced the small handgun. The trigger flew faster than the man knew he could pull it as round after rand slammed into the target. Each hit sent a gush of blood from the creatures pale and rotting flesh till it collapsed down beside him.

His ears rang and head burned with the gunshots so close, but he couldn't stop to recover. More of the beasts turned down the street and continued after their quarry. He pushed himself up, and limped to the front door. The dog knew the drill already, it was scratching at the worn wood yipping and jumping. Their footsteps drew closer and closer as he inched towards the brass knob. His teeth grit in apprehension. He just had to get inside! The dog turned to its master and barked impatiently.

“I know I know!” He shouted bursting inside to the house. The dog slipped inside just as he slammed the wooden door shut behind him. The lock was turned just as the creatures bashed against it. Their shadows built up against the boarded up windows. The boards snapped and whined as they tried to force themselves in.

“Get upstairs, hurry,” he wheezed heavily crawling up the tiled steps. The dog flew up and stood at the top barking for its master to hurry. His body was begging him to stop, he couldn't take anymore. But he was so close, just a few more feet! He heard a crash from the downstairs. They were almost in!

Finally, he reached the top step. The dog ran into their bedroom as the man pushed the barricade in front of the staircase. A couple of mattresses turned on their side with a large wooden desk behind it. The staircase was slender, and the upstairs was a mere narrow hallway that the mattresses closed off completely. There was no other way for them to get up unless they were relentless, but he had been through this before. It would be a few hours of them smashing and clawing at the barricade till they gave up. They'd stay there howling and gnashing for the night, but disperse by sunrise. He was safe.

His broken and aching body slumped against the wall. His chest felt like it was caving in on itself, and his breaths were short and rapid, but he never felt so good in his life. The dog emerged from the room once it was safe. It came over and sniffed its masters face. “Nice of you to show up,” he gasped.

Behind him, he could hear the infected start their assault on the barricade. There were a lot this time, he would probably have to find something to replace it once they were done. Tonight would be a grueling waiting game as he sat next to the mattresses to ensure that none broke through, but for the most part all was well.

The man pushed himself onto his feet and limped into his room. He had a few painkillers left and he needed them more than ever. He shut the door behind him as the creatures tore at the obstacle separating them from their food, but it was to no avail. The sun set over the dead and decaying city as more monsters poured into the streets. It was their hour, their time. And now, just like he had done for the past eight years, all he had to do was last the night...