The Nameless Survivor (Valkyrie)

by Hawk, J. K.

  Just before we were out of sight, I looked back past the approaching herd. Elmer had not moved and continued to stare down at the mass of splintered glass, content with his new infatuation. Although our encounter with him was eerily rewarding for me, it was also depressing that he was completely unaware that we even existed. And as we left him behind, never to be seen again, I wondered to myself, “What will become of him?”

  22nd Day, 6th Blood Moon;

  The days are even colder now, and it seems as if we will never reach Fort Rockland. Mia appears to be slumping into a deep and unhealthy depression. Distant and cold, she is losing her consistently positive outlook on life, and is now lost in a shell of confusing hormones. I fear for her, and for the child she carries. Worse though, is I feel this journey may be our death sentence, one that I am responsible for.

  23rd Day, 6th Blood Moon;

  Today we reached the halfway point, a familiar and yet all too unfamiliar town. A dense fog blanketed the streets and obscured everything within just a few yards. The sun yet unable to pierce through the blanket of death. It was here that some of Mia's depression began to sink into me. The shroud of mists enhanced every little sound, driving fear deep into our hearts. The clanking of a something metal in the street, maybe a can, followed by the sudden shrill of a hissing feral cat. And then, of course, there was the ominous and all too familiar shuffling of necrotic legs. We were not alone, and thankfully that dreadful fog shrouded us from the dead.

  We moved slowly through the street, making our way to the bridge that would connect us to the next half of our journey. A few times we stumbled too close to the wandering infliction, their necrotic forms billowing out of the icy vapor like ghosts in the night. Thankfully they never saw us as we quickly plunged back into our hazy cloak. It wasn't long, though, before the sun rose high enough to burn away the ground-cover and reveal us to the dead. But, there was no true threat. Only few of them shambled about the streets, weak and disoriented, desperately searching for an easy meal. It was nice to see them this way, almost docile, unable to charge like the vicious beasts that they are.

  The town was in shambles, obviously it had long been purged by a falling empire. Most buildings were demolished, what rubble remained lay to rest on the outer perimeter of a man-made crater. Those that still stood hung desperately to what supports remained in their brunt out frames. Even the old high-school was nothing more than a pile of rubble, the roof had long ago caved in and now the entire building was slowly being reclaimed by nature. A tall slender birch tree rose gracefully from what was once the schools rotunda. Moss grew up what remained of its brick walls, and the sports fields had become nothing more than a neglected pasture of tall dead weeds.

  The river, however, still reeked of rotting vegetation and oil, a smell I had long forgotten. The lack of human contact has done little to wash away the imprint that man had made upon it. The muddy water roared over the river-run dam just as they have for many years, spraying a mist of murky rainbows up into the air. The bridge on the other hand, lay beneath the rivers dark and putrid waters. A mass of vehicles lay atop the rubble, just barely submerged beneath the surface of the rushing current. The military had struck hard to stop the citizens from escaping and spreading the plague even further. I'm sure they did the same to all the bridges along the river, a string of graveyards beneath this once great waterway.

  We needed to get across somehow, our destination was south-east, and the currents were just too damn strong to swim. Not to mention the frigid temperature, already ice is beginning to form at the rivers edges. Our depression was growing with each step we took, I don't believe we had even spoken a word to each other since we reached the desolate town. Still, we pushed on, following the river south in hopes to find another crossing.

  We didn't travel far, in fact we hadn't even left town before we reached a narrow wire footbridge that was once the only connection to the other side. A two-cent toll was paid just to cross, until the traffic bridge was built. And, like most things, the bridge became obsolete, now it is just another monument to the history of man. Although the structure was overlooked by the government’s bombardment, the years had not been kind to her. A few of the steel cables had long ago snapped, and the span was missing a couple platforms. Even in her disarray she looked to be holding strong and fairly safe to cross. I had little hope that we would find another opportunity to cross anytime soon.

  I moved out onto the first platform, and just as my weight pressed down on it, the rickety bridge groaned and swayed slightly from the strain. Still, those old bones held strong, and I moved further out. Mia slowly followed behind as Nova pushed ahead of us quickly. She leaped over the missing sections and reached the other side much faster than we would be able too. But, slowly and surely we crept across, holding tight to the railings as she swayed even more from side to side. Our hearts would stop at every twinge of a random wire snapping from the binds of the rusty cables. And the moans and groans of aging steel echoed between the river banks.

  The missing platforms were trickier to traverse, and I dared not attempt to jump it, instead I hugged the railing and shimmied my way across. Mia's stomach on the other hand got in the way making it even harder for her to hold on. Nervously I held out my arms, ready to grab hold in case she lost her grip.

  “Don't look down.” I said, “Just look at the railing, you can do this.” I reassured her from the other side.

  “I'm scared.” She whimpered.

  “I know baby, but it's going to be all right. Hell, we've made it this far!” I encouraged her.

  Slowly she shimmied herself along the edge, staring straight ahead, ignoring the rushing brown current below. She did good, strong and brave. And when she made it across, I hugged her tightly as she hugged back. It was triumph, and it is triumph that conjures hope. I'm not sure how long Nova had been barking before I took notice. It was also then that I could hear the bridge straining even more, the cables creaked, and a repetitive clanging rang out from beneath the scaffold. The racket was getting louder, and rapidly closer, and Nova's ferocious assault instantly escalated.

  Carefully I peered off the side only to find our greatest fears making their way towards us. Tweaker’s, two of them, scaling the steel girders with ease and rapidly charging on our position. Their skin had long ago rotted away, leaving a blacken layer of scar tissue that seeped a rank and viscous fluid. They obviously have endured better than most of the infected, they were just as lethal as they were in the beginning.

  “RUN!” I shouted.

  We ran hard and fast across the other half of the bridge, leaping over the gaps like a herd of deer. The bridge swayed even more beneath our weight, and the loud snap of some of the remaining cables rang out in my ears. However I dared not look back. Reaching the other side, out of breath and slightly disoriented, I pulled out my shot-gun and turned back towards the bridge. The Tweaker’s were now atop the platforms, slowly inching closer towards us, watching us much like the one I had encountered long before. They were anticipating our next move, planning their own strike.

  Blast after blast I opened fire onto the bridge, but not towards them, instead the cables that barely suspended them above the rushing waters. Instantly, they picked up their pace, leaping towards us with ease. And I continued my barrage as the bound steel slowly began to weaken and snap. Before long a loud crash resonated out across the river just as the rusty arch dropped a few feet and shuddered from the strain. The steel girders at its base buckled under the weight, twisting easily as if they were made of mere clay. Then more of the cables began to snap and the whole structure slowly began to tip sideways before crashing down into the river below.

  The last we saw of those Tweaker’s were their heads barely bobbing above the rushing waters before they were both consumed by the rushing dam. As we walked away we could still hear the bridges cables snapping, and girders bending beneath the force of the current as it was also pushed into the dam. And although we were safe, the destruction wei
ghed heavily upon me, knowing that it was I who condemned other survivors to the far side.

  We set camp for the night in an old paper mill not far from the bridge. Although we knew we had little time to reach Fort Rockland, we needed the rest. Maybe tomorrow we will get lucky, maybe tomorrow a scouting party finds us, or maybe we will even meet a swift and painless death. Maybe tomorrow will be a brighter day. Maybe...

  24th day, 6th Blood Moon;

  Something else is here with us, something lurks deep within this massive dungeon. Mia is still fast asleep, but the noises that echo from within the bowels of this mill has awoken both Nova and I. Sounds too faint to make out, possibly voices, but they were just too far away. I just hope that they are.

  When I first awoke, I mistook the raucous to be nothing more than a pair of Owl’s seeking shelter from the cold. But, their hoots are too random, and without rhythm. And then there is an array of clanging, thumping, and smashing of unknown objects, followed by a few more hoots then a ghastly shrills. Thankfully it has been silent for the last few minutes, but the fear of the unknown has already set in.

  Nova is aware and has become quite antsy, tense, like she's preparing to charge an enemy. The fur upon the ridge of her back is erect and her tail bushy with apprehension. She has not growled, or made any sound whatsoever. It doesn’t even appear that she is breathing, she is utterly focused on listening. Something is getting closer, and I dare not light a torch in fear of attracting whatever wanders these catacombs, what little moonlight shining through the dusty windows will have to be enough.

  My pistol lays at my side in case this – thing, just happens to get too close. Although I would prefer not to pull the trigger which would breed echoes that will most definitely attract the infected from all around. The last thing we need is to be driven deeper into this tomb, cornered with nowhere to go.

  I just hope that Mia sle…

  continuance;

  My hearts painful pounding will not ease and I am finding it difficult to catch my labored breath. It is these close encounters that nearly give me a heart attack, and at my age it is becoming ever so likely. Yet, over all the racket, Mia was not woken from her slumber, and Nova is no longer agitated. Still, I do not believe I will be able to sleep tonight, which will make for a long and tiresome day.

  He approached silently, like a hunter stalking it's pray. Yet I had surprised him just as much as he had surprised me. Stevie now lays to rest upon the cement floor in the adjacent room. Although it may have just as well been me laying there as he chewed through my sleeping beloved. It was a battle that ended with a simple flip of a coin. However I did have a slight advantage over that son of a bitch.

  It was when a door in the other room creaked open that I dropped my pencil and silently crept over to get a better look. Foolishly though, I left my pistol on the floor, and did not realize it until I was already through the doorway. Just another idiotic mistake to add to my list, and it's getting big. Thankfully my knife was still strapped to my waste, which I quickly pulled out. The room was even darker than the one we stayed in, just a singular beam of moonlight bled in, and at first it appeared cold and empty. It did occur to me that a breeze may have pushed open the rusty door - if only that were the case.

  As I turned to retreat back to our dusty condo, a familiar shuffle broke the silence before something lightly brushed against my shoulder. Together we whipped around, face to face, frantically startled. Startled? The dead are not startled? However, there was no time to contemplate the matter. The thing before me quickly reached up and his grimy paws grasped tight onto my shoulders as he pushed me hard against the wall. His teeth gnashed at me and a foul stench filled my nose as a gaseous vapor escaped his throat.

  Gagging, I pushed him back with all my might, forcing him backwards and into that wisp of moonlight, giving me a better look. An infected black man, naked as the day he was born, and badly injured. His body was littered with wounds, shards of glass imbedded into the skin, a couple bullet wounds, and even a dried out wooden stick protruded from his shoulder.

  The worst of his injuries, which is what gave me the advantage, were his eyes. They were not the cloudy, lifeless eyes of an infected, nor the bright clear eyes of the living. In fact, he had no eyes. Just putrid holes remained, long before cut away, or maybe even pushed in by a pair of strong thumbs. A blackened sludge seeped from the sockets, congealing upon his pale skin. His head cocked back and forth as he listened intently, attempting to pinpoint my location as his hands stretched out before searching the dusty air. If only there were a piano, and the entire scene may have been slightly comical.

  But I had not time to laugh, it must have been my heavy breathing, for within moments he had locked onto my position and lunged for me. I darted to the side and swung hard with my blade... It was no longer within my grasp, mindlessly dropped with our first altercation. So without deliberation and unarmed, I attacked with only brute strength and overwhelming rage.

  Swooping around to his back-side I successfully locked my arm tightly around his masticated neck. Increasing the pressure like a vice his throat collapse with a crunch, and a series of cracks a pops reverberated up his spine. His hands frantically reach back for me as my grasp tightened even more. Desperately he gagged and gasped for air, his fists slapping against my shoulder, unable to break free from my frenzy. Slowly he began to lose strength and gradually slid down towards the floor before completely collapsing.

  Even when any hint of life had left those infected bones, I continued to hold tight, ensuring the threat was diminished. My mind was dark, empty. Only a fire of hate burned within my neurons, hate and death. I was no longer the man I once knew, I changed, for that brief moment I had become something else. A beast, a mindless fiend with a thirst for blood. I was one of them, damned.

  When I finally did let go and my thoughts slowly raced back together, I just sat on the floor and stared at the lifeless body before me. The beast within had left, and my ill-fated compassion flooded my senses. The man before me was no monster, just a lonely man lost within his own mind. Beaten and battered, mutilated and manipulated, a soul forgotten by time. Now, he was whole again, he was finally at peace. It wasn't until then that it dawned on me, Mr. Wonder should still be a threat.

  The dead don't need to breath, did I just kill an innocent man? What about his wounds, even the gunshots, no man could survive with all that. No, he was most definitely infected, but he was also unlike any I had seen thus far. Maybe it was just habitual, instinctual contractions of the chest, something left over in that corrupted brain. Either way, I was not taking any chances that he may rise again. With a swift stomp of my boot, his head caved in releasing a rush of putrid blood and matter.

  When I returned to Mia, Nova lay next to her with her blue eyes locked on the doorway. Mia however, had not even budged from her slumber. At least she will have a good night’s sleep. Tomorrow, we will begin the final half of our journey, and for the time being I will keep Mr. Wonder to myself, or maybe even forever.

  continuance;

  We emerged from the mill early this morning and set off to find an easy route to Highway Seventeen. It was going to be another nice day, aside from the cold. The sun is finding it harder and harder to warm the ever shortening days. Yet it provides an invigorating crispness to the air, as long as there are no corpses around. Late autumn in New England is a peaceful time of the year. Even in decay there is still such beauty. It is something the leaf-peepers knew, but something I had always disregarded.

  We moved on, walking briskly and making good time. I would say we covered at least eight, maybe ten miles today, but we have so much more ground to cover, and the silence will only make it harder. Mia has not spoken a word since last night, she drifting. Even if we do make it to Rockland, I fear it will be too late. Her mind is about to shatter, and there is nothing I can do about it.

  25th day, 6th Blood Moon;

  Mia and I startled a woman and her young boy this morning while traversing a s
mall ravine. We have continued to ignore the warnings of the GFS and avoid the main roads as much as possible, both in an attempt to save time but also in comfort that the trees provide us. Obviously we are not alone in that comfort. The two of them hadn't woken yet from last night’s slumber, but no one truly sleeps these days, the snap of an overlooked stick beneath my foot had proven such. The woman sprung frantically from her dusty quilt with gun instinctively drawn and cocked. Without pause I raised the rifle and cocked my head tight against the stock to take aim.

  Aside from her greasy brown hair and disheveled appearance, I was instantly attracted to her, and ashamed of such feelings. There was something about her that pulled at my emotions, something that some may call ‘love at first sight,’ but it was not love. Lust maybe, my testosterone peaking just at the sight of her, another womb for me to souse. But just as quick, I banished such thoughts, my hormones will not define me. My love for Mia is still strong, stronger than anything I have ever felt before.

  The boy at her side was not much older than six or seven, and he too had seen better days, cute but morbidly feeble. The woman trembled feverishly as the boy shied in behind her, and her gun rattled so violently in her hand that I feared it may accidentally go off. I too began to tremble as I watched her eyes dart between me and Mia then back again. She was naturally guarded but lacked composure, I had to extinguish the situation, and I had to calm her nerves.

  “Don't shoot!” I said as I lowered my rifle. “We're not going to hurt you.”

  Thankfully Mia took the initiative and stepped forward between the woman and I, which seemed to immediately ease her fear. Slowly she too lowered her gun, breathing deeply while trying to control her shakes. The daze in her big brown eyes showed her tales of a tortured past, plagued not only by the dead but also a river of deceit and depredation. Yet, it appeared she would prefer to trust and endure the consequences, rather than remain guarded and alone.