Primal Instinct

Since ‘the event’, life had been brought back to our human primal instinct; survival. Everyone was only out to only protect themselves and their families. I mean, who wouldn’t? You can trust no one in these times. You never know what people are willing to do to win. At least that is what it feels like. It seems that this is a massive computer game, and the last one standing is the winner.

Tribalism is something that has had a massive resurgence since ‘the event’. I suppose when things are tough and pleasure is a distant memory, humankind reverts to his original nature. People of like-minded ideology group up to hunt, scavenge, steal and rob. It can get complicated; more mouths to feed, more people needing accounting for, more betrayal. 

I’m not as stupid as that. I have stayed with my ‘tribe’, i.e my family. The three of us, my wife, my mum and I. As three women, people probably thought we would be one of the first to be consumed by ‘the event’. As we only have to think about us three, it is not too bad. We don’t have to waste time thinking about other people. We can get by on less food, and there is no hierarchy, like in other tribes. It’s also easier for us to get away and hide from the creatures. It’s not like we can kill the big mass that swarms towards us. That means getting close, and that is the one thing you don’t want to do. I mean, we have ammunition, but we’d rather not waste it on slow-moving zombies. That can be saved for the occasional tribal warfare.

I haven’t explained ‘the event’ yet. It’s  something that people would only expect to happen in films, but it happened. We couldn’t have predicted it, but it happened. The Swiss government had been experimenting a new treatment to treat rabies on rats, but they escaped and bit humans. Somehow it managed to transform the infected into cannibalistic, rotting corpses, intent on adding another victim into their clan. Now, the virus has spread across Europe and Asia. Border Control could not stop this. 

The most dangerous aspect of the virus is that it can have a 24-hour incubation period This meaning that a lot of people who didn’t necessarily believe that the virus existed, still went on holiday, spreading it to other countries, before they started to turn grey and rot and have an intense hunger for human flesh.

* * *

We frequently move from place to place in order to find food and escape hot-spot areas. It’s ideal to move into areas that were once inhabited populously, but are now abandoned. It is easy to find shelter, and there can often be tins of food found in cupboards, as well as medical supplies. It’s something that in our past lives we would have shunned, but breaking into houses is no big deal. We do it to survive.

Looking between our 2009 Ordnance Survey Map of Britain and the horizon from the cliff edge, I believed we were somewhere in the North East of England. The view from the cliffs was a harsh, dark sea. Looking into the violence, I thought about our lives before. My wife, Lydia, and I lived together in a quaint town, both working our jobs to pay the mortgage, but always looking forward to seeing each other in the evening. We alternated nights that we cook, surprising each other with our dish of the day each night. That is in the past now. 

Mum approached me. 

“We need to find shelter.” she said.

“I think that there is a town further West, I can see a few buildings and then we can get our bearings.” I replied, making my way over to Lydia who was checking out supplies. I approached behind her, gently grabbing her shoulders as not to surprise her and moved my hands in an up and down motion.

“We need some more tins of food and some antiseptic. This one is running out.” She stared at her ticklist that she kept since it started. Routine, I guess.

I lent her my hand to help her off her knees, she took it, and I pulled her up to her feet.

“Mum and I were saying that we think there is a town a few miles west. I know it’s dark, but it’s freezing here and it shouldn’t take us too long to get there if I haven’t underestimated it.”

“Habit. I think I can sort of see where you mean. I agree, we should get going.”

We walked to meet my mum, and loaded up our hiking bags, and we set off west.

Arriving at the town, we could see some dwellings had been ransacked already. We moved through the streets, always keeping a lookout for any movement. We were more concerned about other tribesmen, rather than the zombies.

A small terraced bungalow looked untouched and we edged towards it. The other bungalows attached had open doors and missing window panes. There was a chance that this bungalow was occupied, but it was unlikely. Most people are in big packs, and a terraced bungalow isn’t big enough for all of them. 

Lydia moved towards the front door and shifted her ear toward the small window. She was checking for any noise, she looked at us and nodded, giving us the all clear. My mum took out our lock picking kit and handed it to her. She used the kit in quick succession, thanks to the months of experience breaking into other people’s houses.

With a nudge, the door opened and we made our way into the abode. I took out a torch, I would look for a lightswitch, but there hasn’t been any electricity since ‘the event’. The light revealed several damp patches on the floors, walls and ceilings, identified by the smell too. We moved throughout the bungalow, peering through doors to try and find the kitchen, bathroom and bedrooms.

“I’ve found the toilet, if anyone needs to go.” Mum said.

“I’ll have a look if they have any medical supplies whilst I’m in there.” Lydia replied, edging towards the bathroom.

I moved closer to the back end of the house, trying to locate the kitchen. I approached the door, and turned the doorknob. A gust of wind hit my face, and I ventured further into the room. When in the room, I found the backdoor open and spied for a cause. Not coming to any conclusion, other than thinking it must have been left open since it was abandoned, I made my way towards the cupboards. 

Upon opening a long cupboard door, I heard a thump. And then another thump. Hairs tingling, I spun around to face the music. I reached for a knife with my right hand that I kept in my back pocket and brandished it in front of me. I flicked my eyes on what was before me, and darted towards it. It was against my personal policy with dealings with half-dead assailants but there was nothing else to do. 

Dull moans seemed to surround me and I sank into myself thinking about the end, I quickly shook myself.

“Mum, Lydia, get out! They are here, please find a safeplace.”

I scrambled to find some sort of shield and grabbed a dining chair, I held it by the back with the legs facing towards the zombie. One thing the zombies do not have is the ability to hold objects or even think. I brought the chair up over my head and smashed the base into the target before me. Blue blood splattered over the kitchen wall. One down.

The legs had broken off on impact with the cadaver, but I still had the base of the chair and I threw it towards the next body. I needed to buy some time because we needed the loot from this house. Although not fatal, the blow to the zombie had set it back some feet. I picked my knife from the table and brought it in front of me again. 

With my fist gripped tightly around the handle I leaped into the body, aiming for the heart and yanked the blade back out again. A large thud graced the room as the zombie fell to the floor. Danger cleared. 

I rushed towards the cupboards again, frantically opening the doors and drawers to scavenge for any consumables. I stuffed what was left of the tins into my rucksack and made for the door.

Thwack. Shit. What have I done? 

I pried the door open and glanced at the bundle on the floor. 

“Lydia?”

“I’m good. I’m good. I’m okay.” She was clutching her forehead with her left hand and her right hand clenched tightly around a pistol.

“We need to get out of here quickly!”

I grabbed her arm and pulled her up from the heap on the floor. I grabbed the gun from her grasp and stuffed it into my pocket. We rushed toward the front door where my mum was holding it open.

“Let’s head down the road and get to the woodland.” Mum barked.

Running as fast as we all could, we reached the edge of the woods and collapsed onto the blanket of leaves.

“Mum, can you pass me the first-aid kit please?” I asked. She promptly handed it to me and I got to work on Lydia.

“Hey Lyds,” Blood covered her face, the paleness of her skin and the crimson veil was a harsh contrast. “Could you remove your hand from your forehead please?” Fuck. I felt so bad, the gash was at least 5cm wide, but luckily not too deep.

“Okay, I’m just going to put some hydrogen peroxide on your wound, it will sting.” I was normally the one who was on the receiving end of Lydia’s soft touch, she used to be a nurse before ‘the event’.

“Thank you, I’ll be okay, I just need to sleep it off.” Lydia looked up at me, her brown eyes still retaining that smile.

“You’ve saved yourself again, Lydia. You always do this, you find the supplies and then you get a gash.” I finished up putting some butterfly stitches across the wound and sat back.

“Thanks babe, but are you okay? You were shouting.”

“Yes, I’m good. They’re gone, they’re all gone now. We are safe. Thank you for coming to save me, even if you didn’t get the chance before I knocked you out.” I laughed and we embraced.

We fell asleep listening to the birds and wrapping our arms around each other. Another day, another death.