asked me, only a couple of days ago, surely my answer would be to lie down on the floor, trying not to see what would happen around me.
What I did was putting myself between the gun and the woman. Ultimately, between her and the bullet.
It wasn’t a hit, nor a pinch; rather it was an intense and fast burning in the chest. The alarm kept sounding, muffled by the more and more intense (that I believed) yells of Martha. I think I heard sirens, bangs and more shots… But all that was fleeing far away from me.
Because, when all ended, I was already dead.
Survivor
Sergei stares at me with his eyes wide open. Actually, he doesn’t see me; he can’t. I didn’t kill him, speaking strictly, or the others. They were already dead, some hours before I found them wandering the streets of the small town where I am.
With some effort, I pull out the axe from his head and prepare myself for a new attack. However, it doesn’t come. Somehow I’d managed to finish with all those creatures.
I smile, victoriously.
Then, when I look my left hand, my smile becomes a grimace. I’d been bitten.
I’m doomed.
Xavier makes its appearance (now, it’s too late) running from the corner of a nearby building. I know if he’s aware of my wound, there won’t be mercy or compassion. I wouldn’t have any of it.
He comes by my side, making a victory gesture. As if he’d done something. I point behind him and, even there’s nothing, he turns to check.
I drive the axe into his skull. Self-defense. After all, he would kill me if he could.
This time I’m not capable of taking back the axe before Andy and Jules see me. They look me and later watch the inanimate corpse of Xavier. Jules is carrying a gun and, if being not as stupid, he would shoot me on sight.
He doesn’t do it; wants to know what was happened. And he will.
I pick his weapon and move behind him. Shoot two times to Andy, who already started realizing what took place. Now, I aim with the gun to Jules’ head. He doesn’t dare to turn around. It’s the same for me.
I pull the trigger.
At this time, the pain comes to me. It’s a pain harder than any I ever feel. My mind’s obscuring, trying to cover my senses with the cape of unconscious.
No! I’m gonna live!
I feel stronger than the infection. I defeat it. Nothing can ends with me, not even the intense hungry I’m feeling. Jules is still warmed; I feel that while biting him. His dense, warm blood is covering all my face.
Yes, I am a survivor. And I will be, no matter what it takes.
Obsession
Only with her, life is worth living. Only next to her everything makes sense. So it was and is. So shall it be, forever. I close the chest containing her body and sit on the couch. Yes, she will be with me all my life. Like it or not.
In the Woods
The last sunrays begin to fade, so the previously idyllic landscape is now becoming the prelude to a nightmare. I think I can hear his breath getting closer, mingling with the sounds of the forest.
“I’ve been here before”, I think whilst watching the thick trunk of a tree covered with spots looking like blood. We were six people when we arrived in the morning. Now, there are only two of us.
I stop, trying to discern the origin of the breath, which is growing stronger. When I think I succeeded, I continue running.
A branch creaks by my right. He is there, I know it; I can almost hear the beating of his heart, as if drums would be announcing the end of this ... hunt, to call it in some way.
I find his eyes, which seem glowing in the dark, among the foliage. He has something in his hand (in his long, bloody hand), pointing at me. Everything is about to end.
I unsheathe the machete with which I killed the others, and moisten my mouth involuntarily contemplating his trembling body. This time I won’t make it quickly; I will enjoy while cutting and severing parts of that loser.
Ten Minutes
Death used to come unexpectedly, but not anymore. Not for those of us looking to the sky, watching the gigantic rock heading inexorably against the planet.
What would you do if the world were about to end? Think fast. In just ten minutes, it will happen.
Surely you can imagine thousands of people running aimlessly through the streets. Raiding shops, perhaps, or stealing luxury cars. I think that would be better than the terrible reality.
I look to my left. Next to me, looking up, I can see a couple with two children. One of them so young he doesn't realize what is about to happen. "That's lucky", I think for a moment, but I dismiss that thought almost instantly.
To my right, on the other hand, I see a large group of people who don't seem to have any relationship between them. They are absorbed by the sight and all of them are unable to give comfort, and to receive it.
Five minutes left.
A heat burst surrounds us for a few seconds. I think it's the end, but isn't yet. The same way it comes, it goes. I listen to my left a crying from one of the kids; I don’t want to know which one.
I take again my cell phone and try to make a call, the last call. Of course, it's impossible, the lines are jammed. Without putting it back in my jacket, I turn towards a voice to my right. Among the group of strangers, there's a girl (with no more than twenty years old) praying in a language I don't recognize. I am tempted to get closer, in an attempt of make her feel better.
But I don't do it.
Two minutes, or maybe only one.
I drop the mobile to the ground while feeling how my limbs lose strength. The heat comes back, stronger and now to stay. The child is no longer crying, the girl has stopped praying. I can only hear ... silence.
I don't want to look. I do not want to! But, eventually, I do.
It is horrendous. The skin comes off of them (and of me) like moist paper. Still, it seems they aren't suffering.
Until the yells begin.
Am I screaming too? I'm not sure, for I just want everything ends. I'm no longer feeling the heat or the pain, and screams are moving quickly away from me.
What would you do if the world was about to end?
Wait, mourn, pray, scream...
And lastly, rest.
A Rescue
I must admit it: I crossed the line. He deserved the first punch, after doing that to the little girl. The tenth one, which was nothing but bones hitting the ground (brains spreading the walls), with no more sense than to appease my own thirst for revenge because the guy had been dead for a while, was quite excessive.
But, what the fuck? The truth is I felt much better after doing it!
When I calm down, and not before, I turn to the girl. She looks toward his deceased aggressor, but I don’t notice fear or disgust in her eyes. Maybe she think I did the right thing, too. Or maybe she’s in shock.
I hold out my hand towards her, leaving it at a safe distance. I know she wouldn't want anybody to touch her, anyone touching her again, but also I sense the need for support, for understanding and for pity she have. Same as I think had happened to Charlotte, many years ago.
Unfortunately, Charlotte didn’t have a hand offering any of those things.
When they showed me her body (twisted, hurt, humiliated, killed), I just wanted the bastard responsible for that had killed her at first. Of course, I knew better.
I made him pay. With interests. On second thought, the body behind me had just suffered a tenth of what the murderer of Charlotte suffered.
The girl looks at me as if she would be able to read my dark thoughts, and begins to spill the tears she hadn't released up yet.
"You're safe now", I tell her. "That bastard will never hurt you again."
We hear approaching sirens. I will say this was self-defense, and no one will take the side of that dead motherfucker. I pull out a match and rub it against the bloody wall, making it burns. In one corner, a rapist with his head opened. In the opposite one, a baby girl with tears in her eyes. And in the center of the room, a fucki
ng detective with a freshly lit cigar. As if it was the end of a damn detective story.
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