by Jack Parker
"But it wasn't supposed to be like this!" I exclaimed, stopping dead in my tracks to stare at him.
"How was it supposed to be?" Dave asked, looking at me from over his shoulder as he too halted to a stop in the middle of the road. As he did, I felt everything go hazy and my sense of balance was kicked to the ground as everything went red once more. Only one word played at my thoughts as the infection took over.
Control, control, control.
I felt as though I were lost in an abyss of pure red. Nothing I tried to do registered and nothing I thought made the situation any better. I couldn't even observe my actions, everything was simply just red.
I could hear myself rambling as I aimlessly wandered the streets, looking for somebody to infect or kill. A minute or so later, I came to my senses again as control of my limbs returned to me. I found myself on my knees in another street; it was littered with fresh corpses that moved no more. Somebody else had been here, and my surroundings weren't familiar in the slightest.
"Ethan. How was it meant to be?" Dave asked once more, moving into my line of sight from the back of a van.
"It was supposed to be me and you against the world!" I mumbled, picking myself up from the ground in order to follow Dave, who was walking away.
"Things never go to plan, you know that." he chimed, humming quietly under his breath. Taking a look over my shoulder, I noticed the hallucination of Lucas following the two of us, a strange grin spread wide across his face.
"I guess.. Where are you taking me?" I uttered, curious as to where we were headed. In all probability, we were just wandering without a goal, but I had to be sure.
"It occurred to me that the boat might simply not make it when it fires up." Dave said, voicing his concerns for the rest of the group, who were surely at the docks by now.
"What?" I asked, relatively confused as to where he was going with this. My mind was having trouble processing everything that was going on around me.
"All that noise. It'll attract unwanted attention, if you catch my drift." Dave disclosed, a smirk playing across his facial features. If I didn't know any better, I'd say he seemed quite pleased.
"We're going to the boat!?" I growled. That sounded like a terrible idea, but Dave was right; my friends might need some help when the boat left, lest the infected jump aboard.
"Yeah. You'll be more useful there than in some damp alleyway, waiting to die." Dave scoffed, turning a corner onto the next street. Suddenly it all clicked inside my head, the fresh corpses were infected that the group had gotten rid of on their way to the docks, we were following their trail.
From another street, an infected wandered into sight. It had seemingly been drawn to the sound of occasional gunfire that had been growing more and more audible as we got ever closer to the port. Noticing me, it began a mad dash in my direction.
"Steady.." Dave muttered as I took the rifle from my shoulder and lined up the sights, sliding my finger across the trigger.
"I got this." I murmured, the infected getting closer with every passing second.
Satisfied with my aim, I took the shot and found myself pulled forward by the recoil of the rifle, which jerked quite powerfully in my hands as it spat lead into the infected, which fell down and slid spectacularly across the tarmac.
"Heh. You got it, eh?" Dave remarked, chuckling as I regained my balance, which the rifle had pretty much knocked out of me.
"Did the job, didn't I?" I spat, slinging the rifle back over my shoulder as we continued to walk. Lucas suddenly spoke up from behind us in his disgusting sing-song tone.
"What's the point? You want your friends to watch you die?" he said mockingly, making me cast a glance over my shoulder towards him. I thought I saw his eyes glow red for just a moment before I dragged my eyes back to the road ahead.
"I'm going to help them." I said defiantly, making my point.
"Hmph. Making the ultimate sacrifice, are we?" Lucas asked, jeering at me. From the front, Dave was lighting another cigarette until he pulled a gun out of his pocket and began walking up to the two of us.
"That's none of your concern, you're not even real." I retorted, watching Dave approach the two of us with the gun in hand.
"And neither is he!" Lucas shouted, an expression of anger showing now as Dave got closer and raised to gun, pointing it directly at him.
"He should be." I said briefly as a gunshot rang out and Lucas' eyes unfocused as though he were trying to look up at the fresh hold in his forehead.
He stood there for a few moments until his body started to simply disappear, turning into dust from the ground up until all that were left were a pair of eyes, staring deep into my own. It stayed like that for a second before they too disappeared from my sight.
"That's that. Let's keep going, Ethan. We're nearly there." Dave said bitterly, pocketing the handgun before turning around to walk through the open gates that lead to the ports.
There were several abandoned military vehicles along the last stretch of road as we walked up a little slope. It seemed that until recently, soldiers had been guarding this place.
I wondered for a moment if the gunshot would draw any attention but then realised that it was all in my head, along with the rest of what was happening.
I've lost it.
Chapter Thirty-One
Day Seventeen (6th January – 1:50PM)
Disillusioned. That's how I felt as I made my way up the lightly sloped road, walking past the open metal gates that would normally prevent public access to the area. The gates moved ever so slightly in the breeze, whining as the rusted hinges moved.
This wasn't how I'd expected my adventure to end. I'd always thought I'd be the last man standing in this endless struggle; yet here I was, marching to my demise. At least I was doing something useful with my last day on this planet.
"Nearly there. Can't you hear that?" Dave said to me, glancing over his shoulder at me as he walked ahead. I listened for a moment, and the sound of chattering people reached my ears.
The boat was really there.
And that, I really couldn't believe. I had fully expected to arrive here to a litter of corpses and not a single vessel in sight. But by the sound of it, it was actually there. I felt a smirk appear on my face as I continued my walk towards the sound.
"They'll be safe, right?" I asked, wiping the grin off of my face as I tuned back into the seriousness of reality.
"They will if you help, Ethan. That's for sure." Dave responded, pulling out a cigarette from his packet before lighting it. I wondered if his pack was unlimited, and he could just pull them out indefinitely.
The pain in my head had lessened slightly, as though I were getting used to it. But it was still present, growing more intense every now and then as the pain pulsed through my mind. I gritted my teeth and adjusted the position of my rifle as I made my way around a makeshift checkpoint.
As I passed the checkpoint, I heard the sound of static and muffled voices. Investigating, I entered the little shack that the survivors here had made and discovered a walkie-talkie. I picked it up and put it to my ear as I continued to walk.
"This is 'Last Order' to port. We are 75% ready for departure." a voice sounded through the light static. The voice was slightly distorted and tinny, the receiver must be slightly damaged.
"Good, Last Order. We'll keep lookout until all civilians are safely on the vessel." called another voice, a little more gruff in tone. In all probability, I was listening to a conversation between two soldiers, one on the boat and one on the port, assisting in the transfer of survivors.
Last Order. That name reminded me of my nights out with my friends, hitting the pubs until last orders were called. Wondering if my friends had made it out of the city alive, I doubted I would see any of them here.
Fun times, all in the past now, though.
"Roger that, port." the man from the boat said before the light sound of static filled my ears. Following the signs on the road and the sound of voices, I turned a
corner to my right and continued to trek across the damp tarmac.
"They're nearly ready. There's going to be one hell of a noise soon." Dave said, his gaze directed at the walkie-talkie that I was clutching in my hand.
"Yeah, we'll deal with that." I said, grimacing slightly as I visualised what I was about to do. Stepping over a corpse, I looked ahead to a fenced-off area about two hundred metres away and made my way towards it.
This would be my last stand.
"Last Order, we have a fresh batch of survivors. How do we proceed?" said the rough voice from one end of the walkie-talkie. My eyes opened wise as I heard the faint sound of John's voice from the speaker and the smile returned to my face as I realised they'd made it.
"Port, any signs of infection?" The man on the boat asked, his voice sounding oddly surprised.
"Negative, Last Order. No visible symptoms are present." said the other man after several seconds, I could only guess that the man was giving my group a once over.
"Port, ready them for boarding." said the soldier on the boat.
I'd finally reached the fenced-off area at the end of the road and quietly pushed the gate open, slipping into a maze of metal containers. I hesitated as I followed the spray-painted arrows that lead to the boat, did I really want them to watch me die? Could I put them through that?
And on that note, the first horn bellowed loud through the air, echoing in the distance as it reached the many empty buildings in the area. This was my call, and I proceeded to walk out from the shelter of the containers and the boat finally came into view, along with a multitude of people.
"It's fine, Ethan. Don't think about it." Dave said from behind me, patting me on the back in a display of comfort.
"Okay. Let's do this." I said, taking the rifle off from my shoulder as I looked at the walkie-talkie ; as I walked away, I could hear a voice issue from the device.
"Last Order, we have an unidentified person approaching the evacuation area." sounded the soldier on the port, who I could now see holding a device similar to mine.
"Infected, port?" the other voice issued from the speaker. There was a queue of people slowly making their way up the ramp onto the large boat, which appeared to be a ferry of some sort.
"Negative. Target is carrying weapons." the soldier on the ground declared, waving his free hand over at me.
"And that's where you're wrong." I said into the walkie-talkie, holding it to my face.
"Survivor. Explain yourself!" the soldier on the ground roared into the speaker.
"Keep your distance. I'm here for one thing." I said calmly into the device, making my way over to an area surrounded by metal canisters. Propping myself up on a crate, I kept the rifle steady with one arm while I talked with the other.
"And that is?" the soldier asked curiously.
"To protect you. That horn is currently drawing in every infected in the damn area. And I'm here to make sure you leave safely, since I can't come with you."
"That's.. the craziest thing I've ever hear-" the voice started, before being cut off as I watched Shaun take the device from his hands.
"Ethan! What the hell are you doing here?" Shaun bellowed into the walkie-talkie, and I moved the device away from my ear slightly as his distorted voice rang in my ears.
"Saving your asses." I said, smirking rather casually as I spoke. In the distance, I swore I could hear maniacal rambling. When it came to identifying sounds, the infected were rather clever. They'd be here any minute now.
"You don't have to do this!" Shaun croaked, staring at me from the side of the boat. Glancing around the area I had seated myself on, I spotted a megaphone lying on the ground.
Perfect.
"Yeah, I do. Get on the boat and pass me back over." I demanded of Shaun, who decided it was best to do as I asked, handing the device back over to the soldier.
"Survivor, what do you suggest?" the soldier asked, his rough voice sounding a little softer now for some reason. The pain in my head ramped up in intensity as he voice resonated painfully in my ears.
"Get on the boat, get everyone on the damn boat! Now!" I exclaimed, pointing at the boat. The sounds of footsteps and shouting grew audible now as the second horn sounded, and I could make out faint shadows from the little maze of containers that I had entered from.
On that note, everyone began to dash onto the boat as the infected finally came into view. As I glanced over my shoulder at the boat, I saw the rest of my group standing on the deck of the ferry, staring at me. There was someone missing, but I didn't have time to figure out who, as the infected began their mad dash.
"Survivor. We are ready to depart. Godspeed." a voice issued from the walkie-talkie, I raised it to my mouth one last time and spoke what I knew would be some of my last words.
"My name is Ethan Miles Fletcher. Don't forget this." I said calmly into the microphone before throwing the device aside. It bounced across the concrete floor before falling over the edge into the water below.
Leaping off of the crate, I picked up the megaphone and moved it to my face and shouted at the infected which were now scattering across the open expanse of dock.
"C'mon! Come get me! All you can eat!" I roared into the loudspeaker. As my voice echoed across the port, the infected all stopped for a moment before turning their attention to me. Placing the megaphone down on the crate, I brought the rifle up to my shoulders and took aim.
I really needed to stop referencing films, but I just couldn't resist.
Pulling down on the trigger, I spat hell fire into the bodies of the oncoming infected, who began to fall one at a time, sliding across the damp ground before they came to a complete halt, where other infected tripped over their corpses.
They were pouring out of the entrance in huge numbers, I couldn't even count how many there were as I unloaded my whole clip into the horde. The boat was moving slowly out of the dock now, the roar of its engine almost deafening.
There was no end to them as my rifle clicked, having ran out of ammo. I quickly pulled out another magazine and disposed of the empty one, sliding the new one in as fast as I possibly could, several infected were getting within spitting distance of me as I raised the rifle once more and fired lead through the air.
"Keep going." Dave said beside me, sitting on the crate. Now we were here, he was of practically no use. He couldn't exactly help me dispose of the infected, given that he was merely a figment of my imagination.
"I'm trying!" I roared at him, pulling down on the trigger of the rifle.
The recoil of the rifle barely fazed me, only pulling me forward a little bit. My aim was as true as my words, infected falling one after another. The pain in my head grew to dizzying levels and I felt myself sway slightly, like a tree in the wind. There was no end to the slew of infected that was hurtling towards me. The boat was nearing the end of the dock now.
This was the last magazine I had for this rifle, and it was running out fast. I fired in short bursts of three or four rounds at a time. The infected were drawing close to me now as the rifle clicked; I threw it aside and pulled out my sword.
I kicked an infected back and plunged the blade into its head, quickly ripping it out as I began to make my way towards a truck full of gas canisters. I had an idea.
Dragging my blade through the air, I decapitated an infected that had gotten too close to me as I continued to run over to the truck, leaping up onto the back of it.
This is the end.
It was a neat idea, I'd barely feel anything at all. I'd end how I started, with one big bang and the ground shaking beneath me. I wasn't even scared of dying now; like Dave, I had decided long ago that I'd rather die than become just another rambling infected.
I waited for as many infected to approach the truck as possible, kicking them off of the sides of the vehicle as they tried to climb it. There were at least twenty infected surrounding me as I stood there, waiting.
Warning. Extremely flammable. Propane.
I had been lied to, tim
e didn't slow down at all when you were about to die; it just kept going and going at the same speed. I barely had time to think about what I was doing as I pulled out my handgun.
Letting out a deep sigh, I pointed the handgun down at the canisters below me. I closed my eyes and slid my finger over the trigger. Deafening, maniacal roars filled my eyes as I pulled the trigger.
I could see the light through my closed eyes as something burned away at my body, It felt as though I were being torn apart, the pain of the infection didn't even hold a candle to this; I couldn't hear anything and I couldn't see anything now.
And that was the last thing I felt before I ceased to be.
The pain of redemption.