Desolation

How long has it been? One year? Two years? There is no way to know for sure at this point. Does it really matter anyway? No one measures time anymore; calendars and clocks serve no purpose in this “New World”. The only remaining tool for understanding what time it might be was the ever-returning hunger in a person’s belly.   

The woman opened her matted eyes ever so slightly. Blinding light from the sun forced her to shield her face with her arm. It felt like she had just fallen asleep and for all she knew, she had. The sky was dark when she covered herself with the heavy blanket in the back seat of the burnt-out Chrysler a few hours ago. Now the sun shone directly in her face, forcing her to bury her head under the protection of the musty quilt she found two nights ago. She must have slept longer than she realized because the timer in her stomach told her she needed to get up. 

Food was becoming scarce, so nearly every moment awake was spent looking for more of it. The woman laid the comforter aside and sat up slowly. The roof of the old car was caved in a bit, so she had to hunch her back a bit to keep her head from touching the rusty under side of the ceiling. She peered out at her desolate surroundings before moving too much or too rapidly. The last thing she wanted to do was draw unnecessary attention to herself. Cautiously she crawled out through the void where the rear passenger side window once was and stood beside the decaying vehicle for a moment. 

After a few minutes, the woman reached into the front seat of the car and retrieved her small duffle bag. One of the straps had broken some time back so it just hung there like a lifeless arm dangling from one of the bodies she has seen along her travels. She meant to cut the strap off but never got around to it, so it just droops behind her occasionally slapping the back side of her legs as she walks alone searching for her next meal. She slung the bag on her back with the strap over her left shoulder and under her right arm. 

She carries only a few articles in the bag, a knife, and a compass. Whenever she finds clean underwear or socks, she stuffs them in the bag until she is ready to use them. Who would have thought that underwear would be more precious than anything, other than food? A few months ago, she would rather fill that bag with money or jewelry or just about anything besides underwear. 

Thirty yards to the east a pair of sinister figures hid anxiously in the shadows, watching the woman as she slung her bag over her shoulder and began walking away from the decrepit car. Though the figures look like people they are an abomination of humanity, morphed by the virus that ravaged the population when the “Old World” died. They too are motivated by hunger and their food source was dwindling as well. Both figures concealed themselves behind the abandoned buildings that lined the street. Through an alley they paced the woman, occasionally losing sight of her for brief moments when she would duck into a structure looking for food or rummaging through a car that hadn’t suffered the same fate as the one she slept in last night. 

Up ahead, the woman saw an SUV parked at an odd angle in the middle of the street. All the other vehicles on the street were covered with a thin layer of dust but this one was shiny like it had just been cleaned. The driver side door was open, and she could hear the fading chime of the door ajar warning. She knew the battery was dying. The last time she had seen another person was weeks, if not months ago so the possibility of coming across someone else made her nervous. She quickly ducked into a nearby sporting goods store and peered out at the street. There was no one around the vehicle but they must be nearby. Car doors do not just open by themselves and there is no way the car battery could have kept up that chiming for more than a few days. The door had been recently opened. 

The two figures across the street saw the woman run into a store with all the front windows broken out. They watched her as she rummaged around in the debris on the floor around her. She would frequently stop her impromptu search and look out at the street in the same direction each time. Her movements were frantic and excited, they could sense her fear. 

After a few moments of searching, the woman found an aluminum softball bat under a pile of rubbish. She armed herself with the bat then sat back in a corner of the shop where she could keep an eye on the car with the dying battery. For nearly an hour she sat silently waiting and watching. She wanted to know where the person who opened that car door was and what happened to them. When she was finally satisfied no one was around she stood up cautiously, looking all around her surroundings. The chiming of the car door was weaker and slower now. 

When the woman was certain there was no danger, she took her time and approached the shiny vehicle then circled around to the open door. As she drew closer, she was greeted by a foul odor. She stepped around the car and gasped at the sight of a body lying near the back tire. The corpse was positioned on its back, every article of clothing was removed and lay shredded all around the scene. Nearly all the flesh had been ripped from the bones, leaving a ghastly skeleton in the middle of a large red and black stain on the pavement. The faint chiming of the open door was slowing, the car battery was nearly exhausted. 

The woman estimated the person must have died sometime within the past twenty-four hours. She checked her surroundings again for danger then kicked the bits of torn clothing around looking for anything useful. After finding nothing of value to her, she climbed into the driver seat and turned the key in the ignition. She knew the motor would not start but she had to try. Then she began her search inside the cabin of the vehicle. In a plastic shopping bag on the passenger side floorboard she found three granola bars with faded wrappers, these she stuffed in her bag. On the back seat was a pair of shoes that were too big for her, so she left them there.  Aside from a small flashlight in the glove compartment there was nothing else of value to her. 

Stepping back out onto the stained pavement, the woman stuffed the flashlight into her back pants pocket and started walking away from the car. After about ten paces she heard the final dying chime of the open door and an eerie silence fell over the street. Without knowing why, she felt a sudden dump of adrenaline and her body began to tremble. Something was wrong. There was no time to think, she ran as fast as she could. 

Two figures burst from their hiding space a few yards behind her and chased after the woman. In the light of day, the repulsiveness of the ghouls was finally visible. Altered by an aggressive virus, the two former humans were covered in open sores and their skin had a disgusting yellowish-brown tinge. They moved with an inhuman swiftness that surprised the woman and forced her to quicken her pace. 

Before the fall of civilization, the woman was an avid runner and she could keep a swift steady speed for a long time. Unfortunately, the monsters chasing her never tire and they were fueled by an everlasting hunger for human flesh. No matter how she tried to elude her pursuers, they were ever present and gaining on her. 

Each time the woman began to slow the sound of her hunters pushed her to find a burst of energy. Weaving around abandoned vehicles and dodging around corners she ran as fast as she could. Her lungs began to burn with the effort she was exerting, and the first indications of a cramp began in her left calf muscle. She was losing this race. 

The loose strap of her duffle bag was continuously slapping the back of her legs, keeping a rhythmic tempo. She thought of ditching the pack but did not want to slow down to slip the strap over her head, and besides, it was not that heavy. She was running out of time, so she began looking for anything to use as a weapon. She left the softball bat back at the shiny car and wished she had brought it with her. 

Suddenly the strap across her chest tightened up like a seat belt in a head on collision. The woman’s feet flew out in front of her and she hit the pavement on her back, knocking all the wind out of her. The back of her head struck the concrete and an explosion of light burst into her vision. For a moment she felt nothing then she realized the monsters were upon her. The race was over, and she did not win.