The Fall of Man

Just as a disclaimer, i wrote this for my creative writing course.  It's a bit rushed and choppy, but that's cause i was given a limit to how long it could be.  So it's not what i wanted it to be, but i thought y'know, maybe you guys would appreciate it. So here you go.

The cold and frigid air blew in through the open window. Its icy touch kissed the watcher’s cheek stinging it a little. He quickly rubbed the flakes that tickled his face away and continued to look out to the street. He sat his large hunting rifle against the windowpane as he stared out into the emptiness.
Behind him, the other survivors kept quiet mostly as was the rules of the sanctuary. After all, any sounds of life, and they come running like a shark to a blood trail. There wasn’t many left in their group. There was him, his old friend, an elderly woman that stumbled across this home, a middle aged balding man, and a red haired woman with her newborn infant.
“How goes the watch?” His friend whispered grabbing him by the shoulder.
“It goes as it always was,” the man replied with a grunt. “There’s nothing to see out there.”
“That’s what you always say just before one of them comes limping up the street,” his friend chuckled with a nudge. “Just don’t fall asleep on the watch this time.”
“It’s sort of hard considering I’m looking out into the depths of nothing,” he replied. “I can’t even see passed the stop sign on the corner! The snow and fog are too thick this time of year.”
His friend nodded and patted him once more on his shoulder. “Well don’t become discouraged, we’re all counting on you,” he said before returning to the others. They were all huddled around a candle lit inside an empty coke bottle to protect it from the wind. It was their only source of light since too much illumination makes their humble little abode a lighthouse.
The man looked back towards the front yard of what used to be his house and let out a sigh. His breath formed a cloud in the cold air as it drifted away with the cold wind. He looked down at the table by the window. His golden watch sat there, motionless. There was a time where it worked and allowed him to know what time of the day it was. However, it stopped working long ago. He didn’t know why he kept it. It no longer let him know the time of day nor took his mind off the silence with its ticks. He supposed that it was his last link to his old self.
His train of thought was cut off suddenly as the silence was broken by the sound of the baby crying. He spun around to see the commotion that was unfolding. The red headed woman was doing her best to hush the newborn as the others complained.
“Put a lid on that thing before it leads every infected corpse in the neighborhood right to our front door!” The old woman snarled.
“I’m trying, but he’s just hungry,” the woman protested patting her child on the back.
“Well we don’t have any food left,” the middle aged man shouted at her. “All we have left is an apple and a case of saltine crackers so unless your kid grows teeth soon, he’d better learn to shut up and just take it like the rest of us! I mean, hell, he can eat the hundred dollar bill out of my pocket if he’ll just stop with the blabbering!”
“How can you say such a thing!” She shouted back in anger. “He’s just a baby! Would you treat your own child the same way?”
“Well our children aren’t here and also our children aren’t throwing a tantrum that could put us all in danger!” The woman snapped. “Either you get that brat to shut its yap or we’ll find a way.”
The woman desperately tried to quiet her child while glaring at the old woman. After a long while of words exchanged back and forth, the baby settled down enough to fall asleep momentarily. “Finally,” the balding man sighed out annoyed.
The watchman shook his head and returned to his sentry duty. This was all too much. There was a time when things were brighter and cheerier then they were now. There were more of them and they made the best of things despite the way the world was now. They even had a violin that the balding man knew had to play. He’d play a song for them nightly and they’d laugh and dance and have a good time. After all, there weren’t a lot of infected in their part of the city yet. However, that all changed when one of them passing by heard the commotion and climbed in through the window when the watchman wasn’t at his post. It took the life of one the survivors and since then, the violin had been smashed and used for fire wood. After that, the remaining survivors made it a solemn law amongst the living to not even make a noise.
“That was pretty tense there for a bit,” the man’s friend whispered. “Thought I’d have to hold that old hag back before she lunged at the kid.”
“Yeah, well, glad you still got your head on your shoulders,” the man replied looking back at his friend. “It’s just a child for God’s sake! They can’t expect it not to cry or make noises or whatever the heck a baby does!”
“I know, but people are scared,” the friend replied. “I wouldn’t put it past any of these guys selling out their own mother just so they can get away from one of those things out there.”
“Sad but true,” he replied looking back out the window. But something out there caught his eye. He squinted at it trying to focus in on what it was.
“What? Is there something out there?” His friend asked.
“I don’t know, just tell the others to quiet down,” he ordered picking up his hunting rifle. His friend nodded and went back to hush the others. The man brought the rifle up and pointed it out of the window facing the street. He peered through the scope and focused it at the stop sign by the corner. There was a person there alright, he could tell by the silhouette against the grey fog and snow. But was it a survivor, or was it one of them.
Everyone behind him were as quiet as a mouse all with eyes locked on the man waiting for him to give any news. The person was walking slowly with a slight limp, almost like they were injured. That didn’t help. He listened in closely to hear if it was making any noises. All he heard against the wind and steady breaths behind him. But suddenly, the personage by the sign stood upright and let out a few mumbles followed by a growling noise. It was an infected.
“It’s one of them!” he hissed back at the others. “Turn that damn light off!” His friend quickly poured in some water to douse the flam and all of them sat huddle together dead afraid of what was to happen next. The man returned to his scope, the crosshairs fixed on the creature’s head. He didn’t want to take the shot or else he risked alerting others in the area. Hopefully it would just scamper on in search of more food. Everything was dead silent now. The only thing everyone could hear was the creature’s grunting and snarling not but a few yards away from the house. The watchmen’s heart felt like it could pound its way out of his chest. Sweat began to form on his forehead as he fingered the trigger. Come on…just keep walking.
The infected body sniffed the air one last time, turned around slowly, and began to walk down the street away from the survivors. A deep and heavy sigh sounded from the man as he turned to the others. “It’s going away,” he whispered. Everyone sighed in return and relaxed a little; nervous smiles on some of their lips.
But suddenly, the silence in the air was broken as the infant in the woman’s arms began to cry out at the top of its lungs again. Everyone in the room jumped up in surprise and tried to cover the baby’s mouth, but it was too late. The man let out a loud curse as he spun around to look through his scope. Sure enough, the infected’s head shot up and turned towards them. It let out a loud shriek that pierced the night air, and ran towards the house.
“Freaking-a man, shoot it!” His friend hollered over the baby crying.
“I’m trying, it’s moving too damn fast!” The man shouted trying to line up the crosshairs. The people behind were arguing loudly about the baby with the mother screaming at them how “it’s not his fault, he’s hungry.”
The creature zigzagged across the lawn and towards the house. The man mumbled a few more curses trying to get a good shot, but the infected were fast and agile creatures and he didn’t want to risk shooting multiple times. One shot was dangerous enough. “Take the freaking shot!” His friend yelled again staring down at the yard.
“Will you shut up?” The man barked squeezing the trigger nervously. He’d have to time it, hopefully his reflexes were better than he gave himself credit for. He did his best to follow the crosshairs with the creature. He slowly began to pull on the trigger till he had it. Then, when the center point crossed with the infected’s head, he let out an ear ringing shot. It was hard to tell at first due to adrenaline rush and the disorienting gunshot in a close quarter, but the creature soon toppled over on the lawn and did not rise again. He got it.
“It’s dead,” he called back slumping down in relief.
“That damn baby almost screwed us over!” The balding man cried out pointing at the mother and her child.
“Leave him alone, he’s just an infant!” The mother defended.
“It’s a menace!” The old woman chimed. “It nearly cost us our lives! And who knows, maybe more of those things heard the gunshot! There could be a dozen here within the hour!”
“I’m sorry! But I can’t get him to calm down!” The woman cried out desperately.
“Well we can’t risk something like that again,” the balding man said with a scowl.
The mother stared at her two attackers with horror in her eyes. “Wh-what are you saying?” She stammered out.
“We have to get rid of the child,” the old woman said grimly. “It’s the only way we can be sure that we’re safe.”
The mother and the watchmen both dropped their jaws in horror of what they just heard. “What did you say?” She whispered in a shocked voice.
“Have you all lost your damn minds?” The man shouted at them. “It’s a freaking baby for God’s sake! You want to throw it out there to die in the cold or worse, be eaten by one of those things!?”
“It’s too risky to let him stay,” the balding man replied. “We have no choice.”
“The hell we don’t!” The man said rising from his perch. “You’re not going to touch that child or its mother while I-“ The man’s words were cut off as he felt a strong arm wrap around his neck from behind and wrestling him to the ground.
“I’m sorry,” he heard his friend say dismally from behind. “But they’re right, it’s either the kid, or us and there’s more of us.”
“Damn you all, think about what you’re doing!” The man shouted before his friend put a gag in his mouth. His words fell on deaf ears however as the others approached the mother who clung to her baby with tears in her eyes.

The friend sat at the window looking down at the mother and her child now on the foggy streets were the snow and wind smashed against them. The watchmen had to be tied down for he was making too much of a commotion trying to fight off his captors. They forced the woman out with the child since she refused to let it go. Even made her leave her converse tennis shoes behind saying “it’ll help the living more.”
The friend could still hear the man struggle behind him in vain as the old woman and the balding man argued about who gets the new bed space. The mother stared up at the window with grave eyes. The friend felt them on him and knew that he was looking into the eyes of the condemned. Her child wailed miserably from the hunger and cold. It would attract more if they let them stay around.
The friend brought up the rifle and aimed it down at the woman, a signal to move on or else. The woman slowly turned around, and disappeared into the fog. The baby’s wails could still be heard for hours after she left, but whether it was from the actual child or just their haunting conscious, they never knew…