ATZ Forums: Alone in the Dark-This is a work in progress. Just some writing I've done while bored at work. - ATZ Forums

The stiff crunch of gravel echoed off of the stone wall she was slinking across, pistol in hand and aluminum bat in the other. If this had been any other day, an onlooker might have assumed that she was up to some kind of trouble. But not today.

The sun beat down onto her shoulders and she could feel it stinging her skin. The air was thick and sticky in the heat and sky was blanketed with a thin grey film; billowing smoke from car accidents all over city had finally begun to dissipate leaving the hazy grey beneath the sun. All of the lawns had been sunburnt and yellow as she walked by. No one left to water them I guess. Water. She tried to push the thought of it from her mind as she breathed low. Staying close to the wall, arms out in front of her face with her pistol gripped tight, she peered across the street from behind the wall like they do in the movies. Her peripheral vision aware of any movement to her right or left. She could see a few of them far down the street breaking their way into big house. Another survivor no doubt, but not for long. She winced, remembering her own first encounter. Tears began to well up in her eyes but she choked them back and centered herslf back on the task at hand. Most of this road was clear. She had noticed fewer and fewer signs of survivors as well as the...them as she approached the widening edge of the city. She looked around one more time, noting the seemingly abandoned vehicle marooned up on the deck of one of the nearby houses and the slight wind pulling at the tall yellow grasses. She waited for the ones she saw to finally pound their way through the door and tried not to shiver as the screams of it's hiding inhabitants penetrated the bright scenery. She began to take carful strides across the road, all the time looking full circle at her surroundings. The screams became muffled and then stopped all together. She knew this series of sounds well. It must have only been one survivor. There were three of them and one of him. It wasn't difficult to guess what had happened. She looked hard at the house for another second, not with the hopes that some lone survivor might walk through the front door triumphant, but to watch for the perpatrators. They wouldn't be held up up for more than a few minutes. These ****ers were fast. They got what they wanted and moved on. No doubt they'd be after her if they saw her headed out on her own. The windows were open in the house and she could hear the trampeling, awkward footsteps and the slamming open of doors. She kept striding toward the end of the culdesac toward the highway off ramp where she could see the road laid out underneath the hill like a dirty ribbon. The highway was littered with sharp metal and paper. She could see the fluttering pieces swing in quiet circles above the asphalt. Looking back once more over her shoulder at the house she breathed a heavy sigh and then picked up her pace toward the highyway.

The further she walked, the longer the highway seemed to become. The smell of the dirty air began to fade but the lingering smoke squelched the moisture from her throat and she thought of water again. She hadn't been able to get anymore since she began to make her way out of the city. The water had stopped running a day or two before last so she didn't bother stopping into any of the abandoned homes along the way. She could manage to carry four bottles in her backpack along with any spare food which she never seemed to find much of. She could feel the last full bottle rolling around in her backpack as she walked. The empty bottles made hollow smacking noises whenever the others shifted in position. Her last bottle. She was holding off as long as she could but the rolling bottle sound was so loud in her pounding head. The dehydration was beginning to take effect on her withering body. She had eaten her last meal the day before right before going to sleep; a bag of cheetoes, canned peaches, canned spinach, the kind of stuff you find in an abandoned pantry. Most of the food she found was spoiled. Guess no one shopped for the upcoming apoccalypse beforehand. The thing with canned food is that it's usually kept in water or some sort of syrup. That allowed her to hold off on using the water she was trying to save. Too bad she didn't find much. Would have been nice to sit down and have a snack. Her stomach howled. The more she though about her dinner the more the dryness in her mouth began to irritate her. Her glands were attempting to salivate but no matter how she tried, the moisture never came. If only she had stopped to pick up something more to eat. She scavanged as best she could but most everything had already been destroyed in the panic.The last stores on the way out of town had already been rummaged through and half were burning due to unchecked electrical fires or just pure rioting. Racing thoughts began to take hold of her mind. Thoughts like:

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No. Risking going back downtown was something she was not willing to do. Besides, dying of starvation or thirst was a far better fate then being food for ...them. She had to hold fast to her survival plan, although it wasn't much of one. This gas station was her only hope. Without it she'll starve and she knew. With the baking heat it was hard for her to determine just how long it might take for her to dehydrate but her hopes sat at a few days. She only needed ten more miles to the closest gas station. She knew enough that she could last longer without food than she could without water and so she had conserved her last bottle for until when she could see the gas station in the distance. The one she was risking everything for, with the simple hope of finding something to maintain her for the next leg of her walk.