Alone (Random writing)

Autumn was catching up fast. She was somewhat thankful for that. The dried dead leaves helped alert her to anything within ear shot. Made it harder to hunt or otherwise sneak around, though. She huffed, out of breath to an extent, and looked around. Her legs crossed and she bounced slightly on the balls of her feet. In the distance there was sluggish movement to the west. Otherwise, everything else was quiet and still.

She shuffled off to the side of the road next to a tree for support. Again looking around her as she hiked up her baggy torn and muddied skirt. She had come to find that skirts were easier to travel in. Especially if you had to stop to take a piss. If anything had surprised her she could still run and not trip over her panties and pants. Her eyes darted around, watering from the relief she was feeling to empty her bladder. A twig snapped in the distance, that sluggish figure still moving toward her. That was fine, long as it was the only one for now.

As she finished up she took a moment to straighten down her dress and slowly make her way back up to the road. Eyes fixing on the slow figure as her mind wandered.

She missed her. Wondering if it was her, perhaps, that was following now. She couldn't bring herself to pull the trigger, so it was possible. Did she even want to know what she looked like now? After all this time? No. As the figure came closer to view she turned and shook her head.

"I have to keep sharp. That was stupid. No daydreaming on the road." She told herself. "Wits are a must." She scolded and furrowed her eyebrows. Then started to walk again, at a much faster pace than before, as she was not holding her knees together.

It was lonely. Far as she knew, everyone was dead. At first there were a lot of people. People that made her feel safe and secure. People she cared about and learned to care about. Now, she hadn't seen life past rodents and birds in months. Not even a dog or cat. Not since 'She' passed.

'It isn't like the movies. There is no cure or immunity. The human race is done for.' Those words played over and over in her head, even then while she walked pass vehicles and old bones.

"If that is true... Why am I still here?" She would say randomly throughout the day. "Why are they?" She would reference to the reanimated corpses. "That can't be all that is left." So she pushed on. From town to town, city to city, state to state. As winter got closer, the weather became worse. Eventually she would have to find a place to fortify and hunker down in.
Dusk was starting to settle upon her. Even at her age, she was afraid of the dark. She hadn't found too many working batteries that were not starting to leak. The life of batteries exposed to elements after fifteen years, was never good. Though she risked a few, just for the sake of having some sort of light at night while traveling, she was wary about using batteries. She had heard all sorts of stories of them exploding. That was a long time ago, however.

She followed the signs along the road to an old rest stop. The windows were busted open, as were the glass doors. The inside trashed with a few dead bodies here and there to decorate and tell a story. It was obvious that a group had tried to take shelter inside from a horde. They hadn't lasted long, but there were signs to suggest at least a few might have escaped. Weather or not they had survived, she couldn't tell. This was a long ago battle, and looked undisturbed up to this point.

As she made her way into the building, she felt her heart start to thump closer and closer to her throat. The silence made the hair stand up on end all over her body. The rotten smell had faded to an almost earthy sort of sent, though that old decay still lingered. Mold and moss had started to sprout all over the bodies and walls. A brittle old bone cracked under her footstep and she paused for a moment holding her breath. Then she heard it, the desperate scratching and hissing sound of a corpse from the bathroom. She wouldn't be able to stay here. It was obviously not a good place to camp for the night and those before her didn't last to long either. So she quickly made her way out back to the road. She'd travel long after dusk and into the pitch black of night.

The broken worn down road ahead of her; was all she had to keep her company and to guide her for another twelve miles into the next exit signs. This lead to a small town a few miles further from the main highway. She used her flashlight for a short while till the full moon started to perk up over the surrounding trees. She hated the dark. More than she hated dealing with the corpses. The dark made her feel claustrophobic or even as if she was drowning. There was no way to really see if something was coming up on you. Hearing the leaves was helpful to let her know when something was close, but in the summer there was nothing. She had been attacked once by a small dog outside camp. It hadn't been strong enough to break her skin, but it was still an experience she did not want to re-live.

This in her mind, the flashlight would come on randomly when she heard a leaf rattle. She wanted to see it coming this time; as if somehow that would make it less frightening.

She had clearly underestimated how far and how long the journey would be to the next town. As she never liked to travel or set up camp late at night when she could not see. Near a full day of walking and she estimated it was near eight pm. The first building she came to seemed to be an old run down post office and slightly across from that was a humble small church that had long been breached. Signs of a battle with not just the corpses but raiders as well. Part of the building was burnt and bones lay bleached by the sun. Holes were bullets had pierced; oozed rusty colored moss that had grown from the trapped water.

She chose to go further down the main street till she found an old gas station. The windows were busted out and the shelves bare of anything useful. As she made her way in she noted the gates had not been pulled down. No one had thought to use the garage as a base or place to escape the madness. Perhaps it had happened so fast, that the gates were not even considered. She investigated further in, finding no sign of dead or living inside. It took a good deal of effort to get the gates to come down, but once they were she felt more safe than she had in a long while.

The noise worried her, but after sitting for a bit she heard nothing approaching. She continued to fortify the gas station a bit further. Using the shelves to block the door and windows; even with the gate in place. She blocked the side and back doors as well. What made her life a hundred times easier; she managed to find an old metal oil lamp stashed in the back office. Now she had light and a little bit of warmth to keep her company. She wandered around, picking at things that might become useful to her later on. Random things to entertain herself and treats.

The candy bar wouldn't last long. Old chocolate didn't matter, though she'd regret it with a angry gut later more than likely. The pack of cigarettes she turned over in her hand looking at them thoughtfully. Her Dad's brand. She luckily never picked up smoking from him or her mother, but she might later light one up just for the smell and memories. A little bit of oil for the lamp, which she would use a small chain off the employee board to attach to her bag. No sense in leaving such a useful item.

An old pack of pencils probably made her the happiest. Now she could write notes through her more frequented places and see if anyone has come through them on her way back. Though, likely they would have made some sort of evidence that they were there. Footprints, corpses, missing supplies or something. The notes were just an excuse to have some sort of activity to do by candle light.

Once she had gone through the store in search of items, she paused looking at an old rusty looking sink that sat deep in the back near the drop door. The sink in the bathrooms did not produce any water, which was not a surprise. She just liked to try every possible option. as she turned the handle it cracked and there was a rattling that followed. She jumped a bit when it sprayed rusty water all over the sink and then suddenly started to produce clearer water.

"Oh fuck.. How?" she said quietly trying to close up the faucet as it produced more rattling noises. Even once the sink stopped there was a high pitched metal against metal clank somewhere outside. She chewed her lip, this was a bad idea. She knew that if she continued to run the water, even if something had not heard all the racket from before, eventually something would be drawn to it. However... When was the last time anyone came across running water like this?

She made a nest for herself with items from her bag between the loading bay and the office. She looked it over for a moment then decided, in the easiest way to explain, 'fuck it'. She brushed her hair and stripped down her clothes. She had gathered a bar of soap and a rag from earlier. She needed this bath. Filled every empty bottle she could when she was done bathing. Then, all said and done, shut off the faucet and curled up in her nest with the light off for a few. Listening to the distant clanking till it finally stopped. Then listening to the deafening silence that followed.

Maybe she had lucked out? Small town? Empty of anything and everything, thanks to the corpses need to hunt and the raiders assuming everything was pretty much picked clean. She stayed there, wide eyed in the dark and listening so intently that the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end when her stomach growled.

She had no idea how much time had passed since she got there. She quietly and carefully re-lit the lamp and pulled out some dried meat from a burlap bag. Using the well water to wash it down. Oddly, she enjoyed the taste of iron from the water. While she ate she thought about how it worked. She had no idea how something such as the well was able to pull water after so many years of not being used or serviced... or having electricity to drive it. She looked forward to morning, as she would go out and inspect this marvel for herself.

Then her eyes began to droop slightly, the last piece of dried meat stuck between her teeth and lips. She pulled it out and set it aside before lowering herself into her makeshift bed. As much as she wanted to leave the oil lamp burning, she knew she couldn't afford it. She stared at it for what seemed like just a moment, then off it went. The moment it was off, she was awake again. At least for a little while.

Her thoughts were on all the people she had in her life before. Her parents, family in general and even her friends. All gone. Their faces fuzzy in her memory now. The clearest face she could remember, as she drifted off to sleep, was - her -.

"Philly, wake up." A voice said. One she knew well. Playfully and groggily Philly turned over in her bed. "Come on, you." The voice pleaded and her shoulder was pulled to the side. "We have to go check the traps." It said. As Philly opened her eyes she looked up at the figure. Curly dark hair fell down just to her jaw and big brown eyes looked directly at her. "Get... up." She said slowly. Though it sounded serious, it was in a playful manner.

"Alright alright. I'm up." Philly grumbled. The scene shifts to a brighter area. Outside now, they stood checking over their gear.

"Who set the traps this time? They give us the map?" Philly asked pulling her yew bow up around her shoulder.

"Brett did. So aside from your traps, we'll probably have nothing to eat this go around." The dark haired woman answered. Philly took a moment to look around camp. The view was hazed over as if there were a soft fog settled just around them.

"Maybe we should wait?" She cautioned.

"If we wait, then for sure there will be nothing left in the traps and we'll have corpses to deal with." The dark haired woman said. With that they were outside the protective walls of the camp. Quietly walking through the trees that surrounded the walls. Philly felt as if her footsteps were heavy.

As they came across to their first trap, Philly drew her bow. A corpse was in it already, gnawing upon what seemed to be a small possum. With a small thunk and crack of a blunt target arrow, the corpse fell over for good.

"Shame... that was a fat possum." Philly remarked. The dark haired woman stepped a bit closer. "Sarah, don't. It isn't worth it. You know the rules." Sarah paused for a moment then nodded. Where as before she looked somewhat strong and healthy, suddenly she looked thin and pale. Starvation in her expression even.

"Damn him. He should have put the trap in brush where it would have been harder for a corpse to reach it." She grumbled.

"I know. There are other traps though. Don't fret." Philly replied. Though she could feel the anger rising that Brett had yet again cost them food. "We'll talk to him about it later, and try to come to a understanding. Maybe show him where to put his traps and set up a trail for them. He'd probably just be ex-tactic that he caught something at all."

"There is nothing wrong with my traps!" Brett was suddenly beside them. "The corpses must be getting smarter is all." Philly crossed her arms. "What? Come on, Phillas. You think just because you bring home the food means you're the only one who knows how to set a trap. You probably take the food from other successful traps and say it was yours anyway!" Philly felt the urge to punch him. Though he was nearly a foot taller than her, and looked rather intimidating with his dirty blond locks and beard, she didn't care in that moment.

"Philly..." The voice was pleading. Philly blinked and looked around the small camp fire. As she looked up at Sarah she couldn't help but smile and forget that sudden rage she felt what seemed like just moments ago. It was dark out now. "Let's go take a bath. We deserve it." Sarah smiled. Philly nodded and set aside the food she hadn't finished, leaving it up for one of the other's in the group to have if they so wanted.

As they stood in the community bathroom at the only house that stood in their camp, Sarah started to strip down while Philly sat aside to wait her turn. Though they had no electricity, they had managed to make a water tower to catch the rain and used primitive piping to guide it into the houses bathroom for showers.

"What are you doing?" Sarha asked as Philly tried her best to stare at the wall.

"I... I'm just sitting here. You go first." she replied.

"Nonsense. We have to conserve anyway." Sarah said moving over and starting to pull at Philly's shirt. A rush of heat hit Philly's face and she lifted her hands to hold Saraha's.

"I just... I don't know." Philly's heart was racing. She was embarrassed.

"I know. It's ok. I've seen it. I feel it." Sarah said taking Philly's face into her hands. "It's ok, really. No one has to know. We're just... conserving water." She said. "They don't have to know what else goes on in there." She said with a soft smile. Philly hesitated for a moment longer, then lowered her hands, allowing Sarah to continue to undress her.

"What if... I don't care that they know?" Philly asked quietly. "What if, I wanted to scream that I love you?" Sarah smiled, a hint of tears in her eyes.

"I love you too, but it is safer that we don't." She replied. The rest was silent for a long while. Them climbing into the water, which was cool on their skins after such a hot day of work. The tub slowly filled as they sank down into it. Together. Sarah started to kiss Philly. Her hand blazing the trail down her body to between her legs. Her kisses slowly following along with. Philly gasped and attempted to hold her breath as the touch tickled and excited her.

When her eyes opened, Brett stood at the opening above the shower looking down upon them.

"Sarah!" Philly called to warn her. Then Sarah sat up, a corpse with mouth wide open and guts hanging from her jaw. A hiss as Sarah lunged for Philly's face.

"NO!" Philly sat up straight, covered in sweat. Her arm out to attempt and hold something back. Something that wasn't there. Her heart pounding in her throat once again. Breathing heavy she looked around the sun speckled room. Then a loud rattling could be heard coming from the front of the building.

"Shit!" she hissed softly and got up to the wall. She listened carefully. A soft gurgling groan followed by something rubbing down along the gate to the front of the gas station. 'Did it here me? Did I make too much noise? How many are out there?' she thought.

She sat frozen, watching the front of the gas station through the curtain that separated the office and the main shop. The shadow of the figure against the light let Philly know she had slept nearly into the afternoon. There was just one, that she could see and hear. She could take care of it, maybe stay another night and enjoy the running water just one more time. However, those thoughts made her bladder whine. She squirmed on the floor slightly then looked around for the bathroom. Didn’t matter if she made a little noise now. The corpse knew she was there, otherwise it wouldn’t be so intent on getting in.

Slowly she made her way toward the bathroom, then the urgency started to settle in and she rushed the rest of the way. The bathroom was empty of anything. Not even water in the toilet. Though compared to going outside in a ditch, the walls and the door were somewhat welcomed. When she was done, she sighed with relief and then remembered quite quickly that there was another urgent matter to deal with. Especially when she heard metal scraping and whining as it was bent.

The hair raised along the back of her neck at the sound, and she rushed to her nest to gather her weapon and mask. She quickly put her mask and goggles on, then her gloves. She made her way to the area where the metal was being tested and could see a hand grabbing for perches just beyond the window near the counter. She notched a stone arrow with barbs and quickly pinned the hand against the wall. The wailing that followed did not phase her. She was used to the noises the corpses made. Especially the fresher ones that sounded more human than anyone cared to admit. No words would follow, just the wailing and grunts as it continued to try and get in with one arm pinned.

This gave her time to pull the barricade away from the back door and make her way around. Taking careful aim at the corpse’s head and take it down for good. It was quick, which was the point. She took a moment to inspect the streets and other buildings, wanting to make sure this was the only one. Once she was sure, she set out to try and remove the body from the front of the gas station. Taking great care to not get any blood or other fluids from it on her or her clothing. It helped that the body was relatively fresh, suggesting that perhaps another traveler did not have such great luck on the roads. Though the way he was packed suggested he had only recently left his camp. That meant it could be close by. She noted that he had a hole in his torso and he was drenched down the front with his own blood. Or at least she assumed his own blood.

She pulled off his pack, cutting away bloodied spots and tossing the tainted fabric onto his body. She gathered what she could from his person, then burned the body along with her two arrows, gloves and mask. She set all the supplies in the gas station then went searching through any buildings nearby. A few old houses, the church and the small corner store that served in the past as a discount grocery. Little if anything was found to be useful. When she was done, the day was near it’s end. She took the rest of the daylight to better fortify the gas station, even blocked off the whole the corpse had made earlier. By the time dusk settled, the corpse was near done burning, ash and ember still floated around the area where it lay.

After all of that she decided she needed to cut the rest of the night short. She moved over to the old sink in the back and set up the oil lamp. Taking off her clothing and setting it off to the side, she then turned the tap. Nothing. No rattle or sudden spurt of water. She twisted the tap back and forth a few times more before she finally gave up. She looked at the bottles and jugs she had filled in her excitement, and knew she wouldn’t be able to carry them all. So, she took the time to take a smaller less fulfilling bath, then she washed some of her clothes the best she could. After she set them out to dry, she repeated the same routine as the night before. She ate, made a note of her scavenged items and what she would need over what she wanted to take with her.

Inevitably, her mind would slowly settle on the thought of the dream she had. She was extremely lonely by now. Though in her mind it seemed longer than a year or two, it had only been ten months before when Sarah passed. She turned the oil lamp low, slowly at first. Until it finally went out leaving her in pitch black. Her eyes watered slightly staring up at the dark ceiling above her.

“What is the point?” She whispered out loud to herself. Her heart felt as if it were starting to break all over again. She shook her head then let out a heavy sigh. She then forced herself to think of the corpse from earlier. A slender young man. Maybe her age, maybe older. Was hard to judge a man’s age when they had such thick beards. How far could he have walked? Was he the one following her along the road for that long? No, he was too fresh. Maybe a day or two old corpses wise. The other one was older, less capable of keeping up with its prey. Though she had no doubt that if she stayed here long enough, eventually that one would catch up as well. And though she continued to try and wrack her brain over this new corpse, her thoughts slid back to Sarah just as sleep started to cloud her vision.

There was no dream that came to Philly this night. Had she been aware, she might have been grateful. The first thing she sensed was smoke in the air. She sat up and looked around, blinking. Was early morning, light just starting to peek in through the slats of the gate. Quietly, groggily she got up and moved over to the front to peer out into the street. There was no visible smoke, but the wind had shifted and the smell of something burnt was now blowing toward the gas station. She watched and looked around for a moment to be sure nothing had been attracted by the smell.

After a few moments, she decided that it was clear and went about gathering her things and dressing for exploring the area. She put on a slightly shorter skirt this time, her legs being covered with pants and thick leggings. She tied on an old pair of combat boots to be sure her legs were protected. While she dressed in protective clothing, she gave more thought about the corpse from the day before.

He wasn’t very old, in life or death. He had to have come from somewhere nearby, to be so clean looking. No traveler could keep the dust and filth off them for long. Even though he had been dead a day or so, he was still well groomed and packed for the road. This bothered Philly quite a bit. The hole in his chest could be a gun shot or arrow that had been pulled out. She was not good at checking wounds on the dead. She regretted not having a closer look at this one. It could give her warning of what she might run into.

Once she was done getting armored up she went to the front again, peering in the road and into the field where she burned the body. No movement that she could see, she gathered her weapons and made her way out the back once again.

She went to a small old shed in the back, where she found the well. It had been rigged with an old car battery, which was leaking acid all over the concrete around the well. This made her incredibly nervous, and backed away from it, closing the door and moving to look at the outside of the gas station. She chewed her lip below her clean sawdust mask for a moment. She could find a new cleaner looking car battery. Might have enough juice to get the well working again, if only for a night. Then a sound that caused her shoulders to hunch as she ducked.

It sounded like a lightning strike almost. Shorter, quieter more of a pop that seemed to echo out till it was gone. She crouched toward the gas station at first and looked around wildly. Were they aiming at her? It sounded so far away. Everything was silent. There was no movement. She sat very still for a long moment, eyes wide and her mind not thinking about how they could be repositioning to shoot her again now. By the time this even came to her mind, there was still silence and no movement. Quickly she made her way back into the gas station.

“I can’t stay here. They know where I am.” She muttered to herself gathering her things. They had probably been using the water from the gas station as a source for their camp. Though it had not looked like anyone was in there for more than that. Her mind argued with her on the facts, granted most of the small town had been looted of anything useful, but there were still a few useful things left in the gas station. Such as the oil lamp. Whatever the case, the message was received. They had murdered the other traveler and were obviously intent on removing her from the picture as well. She worked quickly, packing what she knew she could carry and only that. Some water food the oil lamp and some oil. Some clothing as well and her map.

Though as she worked, she could not help but have a nagging feeling in the back of her skull. Soon as she was packed she moved to the side door. It was a risk, as there wasn’t much cover from the gas station to the rotting wooden fence, nor from the fence down the road. Maybe if she made it clear she was leaving? Either way, they might have missed because they were so far away. The closer they got, more than likely the better their aim would get. So, she pushed it. She ran to the fence then took a few heavy deep breaths listening then ran along the ditch next to the road trying to put as much distance between her and the gas station as possible.

She stumbled a few times, as combat boots were not great for running in, at least not ones a size too big. Eventually she slowed down and started huffing after a mile. Her side hurt and legs hurt. She stayed close to the ditch and kept walking even though her lungs were screaming at her. Eventually she came to a bridge and ducked down under to catch her breath. That seemed to be a bigger mistake, her legs and ribs started to cramp up. After a few moments, they started to relax. She stayed there, quietly listening for anyone following. She hadn’t run like that in so long that it hurt her to do it then. She mentally scolded herself for allowing her body to get out of shape, considering she’d have to be running a lot while on the road.

Hours passed. Still nothing. Either the person hunting her felt satisfied that she left, or they were good at stalking quietly. She gave some thought, then started to sneak alongside the creek for about a mile and move around to head the direction of the small town again. It was a risk, but if they were stalking her, maybe she had a chance of losing them by doubling back.

She stayed low and in the brush for a long time. It was hard to tell how far she had gone, but she started to see hints of the town off in the distance through the trees. Another thing that came into view, was a large wall of several fences built up around what looked to be an old farm house. She came across a few old traps that seemed to be long set and triggered. Animals ripped asunder from predators, leaving old remains of carcasses and fur trapped within. As she circled the structure, she could not help but be curious.

“Devon. Help… please.” She heard just distantly. It sounded like a weak older man. Philly’s hair stood up on end. “It hurts.” A grunt cut his pleading short. She listened a bit longer, only to hear what sounded like someone walking in mud. She was close enough to the fence to hear this, they must be outside. Her eyes narrowed at the fences, and that hero complex started to kick in. Whoever this man was, he needed help. She fretted slightly, was her life worth it? What else was she going to do with her own life anyway? She listened for a little while longer, the sobs and cries of the old man made her feel guilty.

With a heavy sigh, she moved back over to the woods and stashed her items. Then took out her obsidian knives and used them to climb the side of the wall. Was only once she was at the top of the wall that she noticed that familiar sluggish movement heading to the back of the fence. She turned carefully to inspect, partly waiting to be shot off the wall. However, this fear changed to dismay rather quickly.

The old farm house doors were open to the elements. There were several tents and two RVs parked nearby rock fire pits. There were small gardens planted and some vegetables left in them. It was a small but well established camp, including a social area under a tarp with a training area near the gate. All of this was not what shocked Philly. It was the number of graves on the other side of the gate, including two empty ones. The corpse that was hunched over gorging itself upon the freshly dead man whose head was half gone and spread across the ground. The glimmer of the gun off to his side stuck on his finger. The chill became even worse when she heard the old man pleading again.

Philly hesitated a bit longer taking all this in. Then she realized, the female corpse was chained to the pole and only had so much room to reach, she made her way down off the wall. She pulled on her gloves and moved close enough to draw her bow and take her out. The corpse was so fat with the man’s flesh that she was bloated several times a human sized gut. It looked grotesque with how thin the rest of her looked. She was fresh too, died of sickness maybe, though it was hard to tell with the gore that covered her body. Once it was done she moved along and listened for where the old man’s pleading had come from.

When she entered the tent, she paused in the door. Looking like an evil construction of dirty clothing that covered from head to toe. Her hair pulled back but bits of red sticking out from under an old cloth cap. Her goggles reflected light enough that the old man covered his eyes slightly. Her mask causing her to look slightly alien.

“Dev… Devon?” The old man voice questioned. He was chained to his bed, not just by the ankles but across his belly and chest. He was not as old as she had expected. He looked to be about in his fifties even.

“No.” she said. It sounded hollow, almost alien.

“Where is Devon?” he asked. “Who are you? I… I need medicine.” He pointed to the side of his bed where some pain killers and herbs were laid out. Almost as if someone had planned to come back and take care of him soon. Philly quietly moved in and went to his medicine. She looked it over then looked back at him for a moment before she started to crush it together in the old stone bowel. She worked carefully, knowing the formula rather well. She took one of her bottles of water and poured it in to make a paste. “What are you doing?” He asked.

“This will help it start to work faster.” She said without looking at him. When she picked up the nearby spoon came over and carefully spoon fed him a bit of medicine. He shook and was sweating. He was running a fever from what she could tell without touching him. He was going to die.

“Thank you.” He said softly sinking into his bed and waiting for the pain to ebb away. He breathed for a long while, and Philly sat there watching him. When he opened his eyes again, she offered him another spoon full of the pain killing blend. He gratefully took it.

“What can you tell me about this place? About you?” Philly broke the silence as his face started to relax from its pained expressions. He opened his eyes and looked her over carefully. He then closed them and licked his lips. Philly offered him water, but he shook his head.

“Don’t waste it. I know there is only so much time left.” She set the bottle down after he spoke. He inspected her again. “My name, is Adam Lynch.”

When the illness hit the world, Adam started to build his fence higher. His daughter had just moved out, and he begged for her to come home soon. His son did his best to help him build the fence up. Others in the town ignored the warnings; assuming it was just a bad flu. They went on with their lives. For a while, they were all fine. They hardly had any traffic come from the highway less they were doing a short cut up north or to the highway itself.

It was built up on a religious community that had been around for generations. Adam had only just moved there fifteen years before, buying up the house just outside of town because he wanted privacy for his wife and his, then, teenage kids. His wife had passed away from cancer, his son had moved to a larger city for work. Eventually his daughter found love and a job that called her away as well.

He knew loneliness all too well. As much as he tried to fit in with the people in town, the more he felt like an outsider. Seemed like no matter how friendly the religious folk were, they were just as prone to shunning those who didn’t have the same strong beliefs.

It was not to say that Mr. Lynch was not a Godly man. He just didn’t enjoy going to church or parading the “holier than thou” motto. He prayed in his own way at his own time. He always wished well on others and never once spoke badly about the people around him. Which is why when the dead started to rise and hunt, he was the first to offer people into his home for protection.

A retired Master Sargent in the army, he had the training. He also, with his son’s help and enthusiasm to learn, he had the guns. Most of the town opted to bring their loved ones all into the church, for their lord would protect them from the “demons to come”. Adam knew the church was secure enough for your average horror flick ‘zombie’. However, the corpses were nothing of the sort. They seemed to have an intelligence about them.

The corpses would hunt down a place in packs and together tear it down to the studs just to get the people inside. He even found a few of them climbing and chewing at his walls. They did not quite seem smart enough to use tools, but were able to find weak points and pile on what strength they had. They were fast, strong and hungry.

He had attempted to help those at the church when a horde of them had come through. Unfortunately, the church was easily overrun and some of the horde broke off to follow Adam to his own fort. His daughter, Kim, died outside the gate along with her boyfriend, Brad. Those who fell in battle with the corpses seemed to rise within moments, causing Adam and his son Josh to spend nearly all their ammo to protect their walls.

For a while, it was just Adam, family of Adam and a few neighbors that had more faith in bullets than God. The battles were endless for a full year or more, keeping the corpses down and their camp safe. Raiders never seemed to be a problem for them. Luck of being hidden in the brush and thick forest. There was a worn dirt road that lead to Adam’s place but it was hardly noticeable from the road or town.

Eventually, Josh started to find people as he was scavenging what he could from the town with Devon. Some were brought back with them. Other’s turned around by gun point or added to the ditch of growing corpses just east of town. Good people joined in the cause of building up the wall and creating a close-knit community that was focused on being self-sufficient. Things were good for a few years. Though they lost a few to scavenging. Josh being one of those few, but Adam pushed on for Josh’s wife, son and the community they had built. Josh was one of the first graves dug within the walls next to Kim.

Josh’s wife soon followed, becoming ill after a long period of grief. She took her own life out of fear of infecting any around her. At least that was what they told Josh’s son Dean. Truth was, at least to what Adam believed, she was heartbroken at the loss of Josh and could not take it.

It wasn’t until a few months ago, that a stranger had come along. He seemed nice enough, but no one knew how sick he was. The small community woke up one night to his coughing and screams. They thought he was being attacked by something, but he was caught in a trap. The screams being so real of someone panicking out of pain, a couple of people walked right up to him to help him out of the trap. No one could know, at least not then, they had all been infected before that night.

They started to drop like flies. The first two caught others off guard and killed them. They had only just managed to put them down while they feverishly stuffed their guts with human flesh. Others were a bit more aware of their illnesses and chose to leave via their own hands. Some came to Adam for help in ending it. Out of all of them, Devon and his wife seemed to be the only two not infected.

When Adam became sick, Dean insisted on leaving the community. He was sure he could find someone or something that might have a cure or at least someone who could stop his grandfather from dying. To keep the illness from spreading, Devon warned him not to leave. In the end, Devon shot at Dean and missed, trying to stop him. But ultimately let the young man go on his quest to find some sort of cure. Devon stayed behind to care for Adam and protect what was left of the community.

“So, you see… You should not be here. You cannot leave now, as you are probably carrying the infection with you. Unless… Did my grandson send you?” Adam lifted his head wide eyed and expecting. “Who are you? Where is Dean? Where is Devon?” Philly pushed another spoon full of the ‘medicine’ into his mouth. He sat expectantly waiting. His pain was pretty much all gone. He rested his head back down, and smiled up at her.

“My name is Philly. I am here because of Dean. Don’t worry. You will be alright.” She lied. He probably knew she was lying, but it did not matter. It was enough for him to relax and let his eyes flutter slightly closed.

“Ah, Philly. A true angel.” He took in a slow deep breath. His speech became slurred slightly. “Tell me your story. I would like to hear it and rest a while before speaking to my grandson.” His eyes drifted closer to being closed. Philly clenched her teeth then smiled softly, not that he would see that even if his eyes were opened. Truth, she had enjoyed hearing someone else’s voice for a change.

“Nothing to tell. Just a wanderer with an annoying knack for outliving most folks.” She spoke in hushed tones. He was gone the moment she said, ‘Nothing to tell.’ She carefully watched his breaths and when the last one came a minute after the one before, it was more ragged. She then shoved her obsidian knife through his skull. “Hope the poppy helped you comfortably on.” She said with a pull in her throat.

She stepped out of the tent and walked in a circle for a moment thinking. Adam’s story was horrible to hear. She now knew the corpse’s name; from the gas station. She now knew that the woman gorging herself on the man, who took his own life, outside was Devon’s wife. That the man was Devon, a man who lied to Adam about shooting his grandson who was now burned to ash across from the gas station. That someone could infect a well fitted growing community on purpose.

As she paced around in her circle, she suddenly started screaming. Not a womanly scream, an angry scream. This was followed shortly by soft sobbing while the sluggish corpse outside let out hoarse calls to its prey within.