one quite nightMature

It was dark, as all nights where now since there was no lights anymore, as all the electricity just before the outbreak had been diverted to the overflowing hospitals and temporary health centres that had been set up in stadiums and large open areas. So now the streets at night were pitch black, and only the odd fire would light up the deserted streets.

He stumbled through the newly opened exit. And the alarm that had been set off was defining. For sure this would attract more of the infected to his position. He needed to get as far away as possible, as quickly as possible. He was in a side street, to his right was the car park, fat chance of going that way that’s where most of the infected would be coming from, to the left the street lead to what appeared to be a small road.  

He sprinted to the left, running as fast as his malnourished body could handle. His trench coat began to drag, and it felt heavier than it actually was, as if it was dragging him back instead of just holding him back. Behind him there was a crash of bodies, as the infected that had been in the market stormed out in a mass of bodies, they all tried to fit through the doorway at the same time, some made it through, but there was a bottle neck caused by the sheer number of them trying to force their way through. There desperation to get through was inhuman, and he could hear at least two bones being snapped.

He didn’t care; all that mattered was getting away, running away. All that mattered was that he could get away in order to live one more day. He came out onto a small road; he turned to the left and ran. The infected were not very smart, nor observant. And if he could just get to another dark side street or road, then he could find somewhere to hide and loose them. The road was clear, except for a crashed car, through the darkness he could make out that the driver had crashed into a lamppost and that this was undoubtedly caused by the infected swamping the car, judging by the blood and gore that covered the car.

He ran towards the car, and as he neared it he saw that the air bag had been deployed. And saw that the driver was still there. She was defiantly in her early thirties; she had blonde hair, and at first glance must have been quite beautiful in life. But now her face was distorted by the crash and it had horrific clawing marks presumably one of the infected had tried to get at her to feed. She had a swarm of flies on her face, and they seemed to mainly gather in and around her mouth. Her eyes where open, and they stared out of the front window of the car. The sight was vile to say the least, her face was battered and bruised, her eyes where wide open and had had terror within them, and her mouth seemed to disgorge the flies that now feasted on her.

One of the back doors of the car was open, and he dived into the back seat, and quickly closed the door. He lay at the feet of the seats, and curled up into as small a space as he could. The infected ran past, uninterested with the body in the front seat, as they much more preferred the flesh of the living.

It was not safe for him to venture out again tonight. So he decided to sleep in the back seat of the car. It wasn’t comfortable, and the body smelt worse than the infected did, and he had to gag a couple of times before he had got accustomed to it. But it would do, and as for comfort, that was a luxury not a necessity. He covered himself with his black trench coat, and began to drift off into perfect sleep. Before he had fallen asleep, he muttered.

“Just another day…”   

The End

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