Felix wandered across the desolate streets, clutching his gun with sweaty hands. He saw a group of zombies in front of him, but since he thought it was better not to use bullets unless it was absolutely and utterly necessary, he let them be. Sometimes he wondered if there was a point to any of this. It had been approximately one year since the world had ended. And yes, he had suffered, but he had survived. Surviving seemed to be his only goal. But why he even bothered trying to survive, he didn’t know. There was no future. The world was done. The people you cared about had died and would continue to die. You couldn’t build anything for yourself because other people would try to steal or destroy it. Perhaps one day he could use of his precious little bullets on himself. To finally leave this screwed up world.
He remembered being at school, eagerly taking notes during chemistry, back when all that stuff seemed to matter. And just a second later, his life had stopped making sense. That’s when it all started. Well, when it started to end. Apparently a sick student came to school and infected a bunch of other students, and before Felix had any idea of what was happening, his best friend Holly had tried to eat him. He remembered her on top of him, smacking her teeth angrily, spit dripping out of her mouth and onto his face. Holly was a small girl, normally he could pick her up effortlessly, but it seemed like she had this kind of animalistic force driving her, desperate to tear him to pieces. Felix looked around frantically, hoping to find something to defend himself with. He finally managed to push Holly off of him and he grabbed a bottle containing some corrosive acid. He threw it in Holly’s face, her skin began to shrivel, but it didn’t seem to bother her. She charged at him again, even more furious than before. There’s something very sad and sickening about seeing your best friend, with her face melting off, still wanting to kill you.
Felix got dragged out of his thoughts by a group of about eight zombies who were circling something or someone. They were stretching their grey and wound-infested arms, hoping to grab hold of something and put it into their mouths. Felix moved closer carefully to have a clearer view of what was happening. He saw that the zombies where surrounding some guy, probably his age, waving around his knife like a complete lunatic. It was something Felix had never seen before, except in action movies. The guy’s face was dripping in blood whereof Felix couldn’t really tell if it was his. Even though he was surrounded by zombies, and at least eighty percent sure he was going to die, the guy looked fearless, excited even as he was slaughtering the monsters one by one. Somehow, it seemed like he didn’t need any help with killing the remaining zombies on his own, so Felix decided to move on. He had learned not to help people, not to make friends, because that only makes it hard as hell when you lose them. When you lose them, not if, because lose them one way or another you certainly would. Pro-tip for survival: stay alone in this world.
Just when he decided to leave, he heard the guy release a blood-curling scream as he cursed the living soul out of him. Felix didn’t doubt one second. He used his five remaining bullets on the three zombies that were attacking the guy. Yeah, he wasn’t really good with a gun. When the guy saw the zombies drop down dead before his feet, he looked around for the one who had helped him. He didn’t look so fearless anymore, Felix noticed, his eyes were filled with panic. The guy caught Felix his stare. He didn’t say anything, he just stared back.
“You’re welcome,” Felix said sarcastically. “I’m leaving now, good luck.” He turned around and started walking away. He might have saved the guy, but he still wanted to stay true to his rule of not making any friends. Not soon after, he heard the guy calling out. “Congratulations, you just wasted five bullets on a dead man,” he yelled bitterly. Felix stopped walking and contemplated what the guy had said for a moment. Then it hit him. “They bit you?” It was quiet after that. A cold and painful silence. Felix sighed and turned back to the guy. “I’m sorry,” he said. The guy shrugged. “This fucker right here,” he snapped and kicked the body of the zombie who had bitten him. Then he pulled at the neck of his dirty shirt to look at the bite mark on his shoulder. He didn’t look particularly sad that his life was over, just kind of irritated. “I should’ve helped you earlier,” Felix suddenly said, not really knowing where this feeling of sadness and guilt came from. “I could’ve prevented this.” He cursed his stupid complex that kept him from connecting with someone, caring about someone.
“We should get out of here, more are probably coming,” the other guy plainly said. Felix wondered what he meant by ‘we’. Because there certainly was no we. There was the guy for one, the guy who was going to die, and there was Felix, the guy who was going to keep going, keep surviving, keep being alone. The guy gestured to some houses further down the street. “There’s a house there that’s safe… I stay there,” he said, and suddenly there was something else about him than fearlessness, irritation and bitterness. “It’s nice, actually.” The guy smiled. He smiled like the most important thing right now was his stupid, nice house, and not the fact that he was going to die. Felix cringed when he said his next sentence. “You know you’re going to turn, right?” The guy looked at him, eyes widened, as if he didn’t expect Felix to say something like that. Then he quickly regained his posture of being a sarcastic idiot. “No need to rub it in. I’m going to try and enjoy the final hours of my life. And then you’re going to kill me before I turn into one of those things.”
Check Janis out on Wattpad here.
No comments:
Post a Comment