"Mike…" Evelynn calls out to me, a bloodied hand outstretched as she attempts to crawl towards me. "Save us…" She cries, her face half burnt from the fire. The smell of burning flesh fills the entire room as the flames start to erupt further throughout the walls surrounding them. "At least… save her…" Evelynn begs, her black hair no more than small strands on her charred scalp, her teeth showing through a hole on her cheek.
I turn to look at the crib, a baby cooing as the flames grow closer to her. She didn't cry, simply looking at me, a smile on her innocent face. Her hands reach out to me, as if asking me to pick her up. A giggle, small tidbits of angelic laughter. "Mwoikey… killed mwommy…" She speaks, broken slurs of baby talk as her laughter grows louder. Her eyes turn black, looking at me with hostility in them. Evelynn screams as her clothes catch on fire, causing her to manically thrash around in a desperate attempt to put the fire out. The laughter grows louder, as if it was ringing in my ears. "You killed her Mwoikey…" Get out of my head! A part of the roof caves in, crushing Evelynn with a splatter as her thrashing comes to an end. "You killed her."
"Mike!" Anthony shrugs me awake, a cold sweat trickling down my spine. My heart races, pounding at my chest as I look around, trying to make sense of where I was. "Calm down. You're with me." He speaks, handing me my bottle to drink. "Must've been a hell of a nightmare for it to cause you to scream."
"I screamed?" I ask, confusion overwhelming me. It was that dream again. A realization hits me, as I turn to see the mist outside the window, shadows passing through it. "We need to move." The walls rattle as I finish saying it, a loud banging enough to shake up the whole house. "It seems my scream attracted a few visitors."
Anthony rushes to grab his gun, swinging his duffel bag over his shoulder. "Here!" He tosses me mine, allowing me to take out my revolver as the door breaks down.
A group of townsfolk barge in, carrying different kinds of weapons. Their skins were pale, black veins bulging out on its surface as their red eyes bleed. They were twitchy, manic, grinding their teeth as they continue to have that eerie smile on their faces. One of them points towards us, head twitching as he shouts undecipherable. They move in sync, marching towards us in an eerily perfect simultaneity.
Anthony and I scram as dozens of them sprint towards us, flailing their arms in an effort to subdue. One of them leaps over the other, throwing themselves headfirst into the ground as we run across the room. The backdoor bursts open as I throw my weight on it, allowing exit for us. My heart sinks as I see more of them standing in front of me out in the yard, all smiling. Anthony backs into me as he fires bullet after bullet at our pursuers. "Mike?!" He screams in panic when he realizes I hadn't move. "What's keeping you?!"
"We're surrounded!" I say, watching them advance their way to us. My hands move on their own, pointing the cold steel in my hand towards them. The revolver barks, dropping one after the other as more of them come into view, twitching their way out of the fog. "I'll lure them to me! Find another way out of the house and meet me up north as soon as you can!"
"Got it!" He responds as he runs back into the house and up the stairs, hands barely missing his ankles. Don't die on me Anthony!
"Hey Assholes!" I scream, calling the attention of some of Anthony's pursuers. Their head snap towards me, grinning. "Eat this!" My shot drops one, two, as most of them come to chase after me. I turn back towards the yard, jumping over the fence in a gap in the crowd. I feel something yank my leg as I land, causing me to tumble with a thud. The gun barks as I shoot point blank at the head of an old man, causing his grip to loosen. I scramble my way up as one of them pulls on my bag, causing it to drop on the ground. Fuck! I don't stop running as I catch a glimpse of them running all over it, losing it in their numbers.
Minutes pass as I run blindly to the direction I believed was north, praying that I don't bump into any of them. My arsenal is lost, leaving me with only my revolver and the sheathed machete on my waist, along with a small pocket knife I kept in my coat. A small shack catches my eye as I crash into the ground in front of it, scanning the area to ensure that I was alone. My hands fumble as I open the clip of my gun, checking to see how many bullets I had left. My heart sinks, despair creeping its way at the back of my mind. Two out of eight. I reach into my pocket, trying to see how much I had to spare. Five. "I'm fucked." I mutter as I contemplate on going to retrieve the duffel bag.
I hear rustling and I point the gun towards its direction. A figure moves, its shadow the only visible trait that could be made out of the mist. "Hello? Is anybody there?" A gruff male voice speaks, oddly familiar as my mind tries to remember where I had heard it before. The image of the car crash comes into mind and I realize who it was, now coming into view with his handgun pointed back towards me. "Put your hands up where I can see the---" He stops, recognizing me. "You're the F.B.I young'un I saw yesterday!"
How was he okay? I don't lower my gun, checking every corner of him as he does the same. "You don't feel like killing me?" I say, my eyes missing every characteristic that made him similar to those guys. His uniform was torn apart, dirt visible all over his body.
"Not if you're not one of the crazies!" He puts his gun down, breathing out a sigh of relief. "You obviously aren't one of em, not that there are many of us left."
I put my hands down as a question comes into mind. "There are others?"
"Well, yeah. A young lady in a bright red dress. We got separated a little while and I hadn't seen her since. Not much to see in this fog, anyways." A faint shaking stirs the ground beneath us as a low wailing can be heard at a distance. "What in the world was that?"