Chapter 6 – Footsteps on Concrete Are Never Good
The shivering had almost stopped. Janik’s hands were starting to get warm and his clothes were almost dry. It was quiet and his eyelids started to push down on his eyes. He didn’t want to sleep but it felt like he didn’t have much say in the matter. Maybe just a quick nap then, five minutes or so, a power snooze to recharge the batteries.
Then he heard it - footsteps on concrete. He’d already seen one of those things kill Ruben. They’d both washed up together, but Ruben had made the mistake of running on concrete, while Janik walked slowly, staying on the soft grass. The infected went to town with his body, ripping and feasting away at it. Janik watched from the distance, unable and unwilling to help.
The sounds were louder and definitely coming towards him – urgent, fast footsteps on the hard concrete outside. His breathing stopped and his heart started pounding. All his senses were heightened as he listened to the sounds.
There were more pounding footsteps chasing the first set - a group running behind the first man. Janik listened, straining, turning his head towards the sounds. Yes, they were outside this building. Janik was hiding under a window. If he wanted to, he could just look up and see.
But he didn’t want to. He wanted to sleep. He wanted this to all be over, a bad dream perhaps. And if he couldn’t wake up from it he’d go to sleep and escape that way. He didn’t want to be here. Anywhere but here, hiding in a warehouse with those things outside. Walking around, groaning, looking, no not looking, hunting. Yes, hunting - and he was the prey.
Being prey came with the territory if you were unfortunate enough to have been born much smaller than your peers. Janik was born short and in his world, size really did matter. If you were small you were weak – he wanted to be like Joe Pesci in Goodfellas, small and angry, kicking ass and not taking shit from anyone. Instead, he was more like Pee Wee Herman – small, skinny, and getting his ass kicked all the time.
So the concept of being prey wasn’t new to him, but getting killed and eaten if he was caught certainly was. At least he’d had years of hiding and dodging under his belt. He knew how to be quiet, stay off noisy surfaces and avoid roads and footpaths – unlike that clumsy oaf outside, pounding the concrete as he ran, drawing the attention of all those things around.
Maybe that wasn’t so bad. It might give him a chance to run. But to where? What was out there that wasn’t in here? He should wait until morning when he could get an idea of the lay of the land. Work out a path, a destination. The truth was he’d rather stay and hide than run and fight – waiting until morning was just a lie he told himself.
I should look out of the window. They won’t see me since it’s so dark. He was up one flight and felt reasonably safe. As he looked out the window his vision was obscured by both the dark and the built up grime on the window. He could make out shapes, one large shape chased by four smaller ones. The large shape ran into a small shed, slamming the door shut behind him. Janik had already been in there before. It had only one way in or out so he’d left it and instead went into this larger warehouse. The warehouse had two exits which suited him - he always looked for more than one way out of every hiding place.
He watched the things pound on the door. The door was weak and broke easily. And then they were inside. The poor guy inside was a goner for sure. He heard the groans and an inhuman scream tear into the night’s silence. Subconsciously Janik did the sign of the cross – no one deserved to die like that. He could hear the crunch of bones and soft splotchy sound, like a wet mop slapping down onto a concrete floor.
Then it was quiet. Janik realized he was still holding his breath. He loudly exhaled. From the shed he heard a similar exhale and the heavy panting as someone tried to catch their breath. Wait, those things didn’t breathe, they groaned but it was like air pushed through vocal chords, a long monotonous groan with no real pitch or tone.
In the doorway of the shed he saw the outline of a man with the axe held up high. He remembered seeing the axe but at the time he didn’t think anything of it – further proof to him that he was a coward. This man was obviously a warrior, a fighter. What Janik saw as debris he saw as a weapon and used it to take four of them down. One part of Janik wanted to signal to him, call him inside for safety. But the other part, the part that had been calling the shots for most of his life, vetoed that idea. What if he kills you? What if he attracts more of those things inside? Best to leave him be. You stay down, you stay quiet, you stay alive. End of that internal discussion.
Janik slinked down from the window and sat up against the wall. He heard the sound of the man running along the concrete. Stupid fool doesn’t realize he’ll attract more of them, his cowardly conscience reminded him. Axe or no axe he keeps that noise up he won’t see the sun rise tomorrow and if you follow him you will share that fate. Janik buried his head in his arms and finally let sleep overcome him.
The DayZ Novel Page 6