Chapter 2: Day 1.1
"What should we do first?" I asked her, my voice trembling with fear.
"Just follow me. For now, we need to gather supplies: food, water, a vehicle, and weapons. We're dealing with those monsters. They are fast, agile, and devoid of emotions or pain. They won't stop until they catch you, and if they bite you, you'll become one of them," she explained, her words sending shivers down my spine.
Her description of the creatures left me terrified and overwhelmed. How could we possibly survive against such relentless beings? Would we even make it through this ordeal?
"Then... what happened to everyone? Where did they go?" I asked, my voice filled with trepidation.
"They vanish when the sun rises, without a trace. Even those who become one of them disappear. I don't know what happens to them, but one thing is certain: we need to hide when darkness falls," she responded, her tone tinged with a mix of uncertainty and concern.
The thought of facing these creatures in the dark filled me with dread, but I pushed aside my fear. There were more pressing matters at hand.
"What do you want me to do?" I inquired, trying to gather my courage.
"We'll split up. Go to your house and gather whatever you can, but remember to pack only the essentials. You can also check your neighbors' homes for supplies," she instructed, her voice firm and resolute.
"Okay... Where should we meet?" I asked, my anxiety growing.
"On the main road, 4 p.m. sharp. If you're not there by 4:01, I'll leave you behind," she replied, her words carrying a sense of urgency.
"Yes, ma'am," I acknowledged, determined to fulfill my part.
Returning to my house, I packed my belongings as instructed. I gathered clothes, medicines, and the remaining canned food I had accumulated over time. As I surveyed my room, my gaze fell upon the watch my grandfather had given me. It held sentimental value, a reminder of happier times. With a heavy heart, I decided to take it with me.
Hours passed, and as I checked my watch, it was already noon. Time seemed to slip away too quickly. I finished my meal, the tears mingling with the food I consumed, a stark symbol of my solitude. Loneliness had become a constant companion since my parents' divorce and the recent loss of my grandparents. I had grown accustomed to being alone, constantly moving from place to place due to my parents' transient jobs. I never had the opportunity to forge lasting connections or friendships.
"People only remember me when they have no one else," I thought, my eyes welling up with tears. "They treat me as a temporary replacement, and when their friends return, I am left alone once again."
The weight of my loneliness intensified, and I couldn't help but feel the unfairness of it all. My life had become a cycle of fleeting connections, and now, in the face of this calamity, I couldn't help but wonder about the fate of those who had once surrounded me. Had they perished? Had anyone managed to survive?
A wave of overwhelming thoughts flooded my mind, but I knew I had to push them aside for now. Instead, I focused on the immediate danger before me and the tasks at hand.
Walking through the village, I couldn't shake the surreal feeling of being the only human left in the world. It was strangely liberating, being able to roam without the burden of judgment or expectations. Yet, the emptiness surrounding me served as a constant reminder of the dire circumstances we faced.
As I checked my watch, I realized it was still only 2 p.m. It's still too early to go, providing an opportunity to explore my neighbor's house for any useful supplies as I'm already outside the house, Leaving my bags outside, I cautiously entered the open door. This house belonged to one of my grandfather's friends, an uncle figure who had always been kind to me. Memories of my grandparents' arguments with him, often fueled by late-night drinking sessions, surfaced in my mind, bringing a bittersweet smile to my face.
I ventured further into the house, finding the living room seemingly undisturbed. In the kitchen, I discovered some leftover food, quickly adding it to my now-empty bag. Searching the rooms yielded no significant findings until I noticed the back door standing open. My heart skipped a beat as I stepped outside and came face-to-face with a grisly sight—a large pool of blood scattered across the yard.
Fear gripped me as I looked around, trying to make sense of the gruesome scene. How could this be? They hadn't arrived yet, it wasn't nighttime! Cold sweat trickled down my face as panic overwhelmed me. Could the monsters have already reached this place?
Frantically searching for answers, my eyes landed on a small revolver lying nearby. It was stained with blood, a silent testament to a struggle that had taken place. My mind raced, piecing together the horrifying truth. My grandfather had mentioned that his friend used to hunt wild animals, and the blood and gun before me painted a haunting picture—he had fought back against the encroaching darkness.
I took a deep breath, mustering the courage to act. Carefully, I picked up the revolver, wiping away the blood stains. Determination filled my heart as I resolved to honor the memory of the brave soul who had fought before me. In the room, I discovered a box of ammunition and a wooden box that held a sense of significance. Despite the chaos unfolding, my neighbor had left it unopened, preserving its importance even amidst impending disaster.
Opening the box, I found a Colt Python revolver. I couldn't help but offer a prayer for the soul of its owner. Taking both guns with me, I secured them in my bag, feeling a mix of gratitude and responsibility for the tools that now rested in my hands.
Leaving my neighbor's house, I made my way back to the main road. As we reached the meeting point, the girl was already waiting. "You came just in time. Get your things inside, we're leaving," she instructed with urgency in her voice. I quickly complied, understanding the need to be prepared for our departure.
Curiosity burned within me as I questioned the timing of our journey. "You told me that those creatures suddenly appeared at nighttime yesterday and disappeared when the sun rises. So why should we travel at 4? Isn't it too late?" I inquired, seeking clarification.
A wry smile tugged at the corners of her lips. "You have a sharp mind, kid. Indeed, that's true. That's why we're not leaving just yet. We'll be staying at a nearby house while we wait for the sun to set. Let's go now before it gets dark."
We hopped into her pickup truck and went to the nearby house, we left our belongings to the pickup truck and went inside.
She expertly blocked all possible entrances to the house, fortifying it against the impending danger. As we settled inside a room, a sense of unease filled the air. The clock ticked away, marking the passage of time. It was already 5:30 p.m., and darkness loomed outside the windows.
For the first time, I felt a deep fear of the night. Once cherished for its freedom and anonymity, it now held the lurking threat of the unknown. The world had changed, and my perspective shifted alongside it. The girl offered to take the first watch, but I refused to let her shoulder the burden alone.
"That won't do," I spoke with determination in my voice. "I told you that I won't be a burden to you. We'll split the night. Promise me you'll wake me up for my turn. You need sleep and energy for tomorrow."
She sighed, her eyes reflecting both weariness and gratitude. "I'll wake you up at 1 a.m., so be ready by then," she agreed, acknowledging the fairness of my proposition.
We lay in the darkness, the weight of our circumstances pressing down on us like a suffocating blanket. An hour passed, yet sleep eluded me. How could I find solace in slumber when there were monsters lurking just beyond our fragile sanctuary? I hadn't seen them yet, but the mere thought of their existence was enough to keep me wide awake.
"Can't sleep?" Her voice, barely above a whisper, broke the silence. She had noticed my struggle, my restless mind unable to find peace. "Yeah," I replied softly, my voice carrying the weight of exhaustion and fear.
"I know it's hard," she said, her words filled with empathy. "Even I... I didn't get any sleep yesterday. I felt myself unraveling, my thoughts spinning out of control. That's why I yelled at you earlier, for being so calm—"
"—I wasn't angry," She continued. "It wasn't anger. It was jealousy. How could you remain so composed while the world crumbled around us? Since we met, you've brought me back from the brink of despair. For that, I am grateful. Because of you, I've regained a semblance of normalcy."
Her response was cut off by my words, as if caught off guard by the depth of my emotions. "Well, kinda—" she began, but I couldn't let her finish.
"I didn't ask for any of this," I continued, my voice laced with bitterness. "I never wanted to face this kind of horror. I can't even find solace in sleep anymore. Every night, I lie awake, fearing that I may never wake up. People are dying out there, and we're left in the dark, isolated from the world we once knew. No news, no electricity, just the haunting silence of the night."
"You don't have to lie that everything is going to be okay or something like that, I already know what we are facing..."
A heavy silence settled between us, the weight of our shared despair hanging in the air. The irony of it all was not lost on me. The night, once a respite from the chaos of the day, had become a source of stress and unease. The very thing we sought for rest had become a tormentor, a constant reminder of the fragility of our existence.
I'm going to try to sleep now," I finally said, my voice weary. "I still have something to do early in the morning," I said
"Goodnight then," She said
"Goodnight," I replied
Her expression softened, a glimmer of understanding in her eyes. She nodded silently, acknowledging the weight of my words. Together, we braced ourselves for the relentless march of time, our hearts heavy with sorrow and determination. As I closed my eyes, the knowledge that morning would bring both respite and renewed challenges settled over me, a bittersweet reminder of our shared struggle in this new, bleak reality.
The hours passed, and when the clock struck 1 a.m., the girl gently shook me awake. The darkness outside had deepened, and it was my turn to keep watch. With a silent nod, she retreated to rest, trusting me to guard our temporary sanctuary.
"Wake me up if you hear something, okay?" She said, I nodded, and she immediately sleeps with the shotgun near her.
I gripped the revolver tightly in my hand, my senses on high alert. Every creak of the house, every gust of wind, sent shivers down my spine. I remained vigilant, acutely aware of the responsibility bestowed upon me. The night stretched on, seemingly endless, but I refused to falter.
As the first traces of dawn painted the horizon, relief washed over me. The long night had come to an end, and with it, a glimmer of hope emerged. I gently roused the girl from her slumber, grateful for the few hours of rest she had received.