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lazstoryon-blog · 7 years ago

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Part One:The Survivor

Gore warning: There’s a lot of disturbing imagery in this part, just as a heads up.

Additionally, If you don’t like swearing, there’s a little bit of that as well.

Part One: The Survivor

“So, what are you going to do?”

“Man, I don’t know. I want to get my GED soon. I hope.”

“What about college.”

“I don’t know.”

Two girls lay face up on a slant roof, gazing up at the stars and the husky yellow moon. One was wearing Dark green grad robes, her cap stuck between her hair and the roof slats. The other lay in a sweatshirt and shorts, and her face was covered to her nose by a large black beanie. One had just graduated high school, and the other was a dropout.

Kay Boettcher was 19 years old, and she had failed algebra two. Twice. She worked for taco time, and could not drive yet, but she was working on it. She hadn’t thought much about her future. And what few plans she had made were about to be overturned.

The girls lay, hand in hand, taking in the warm california night, and the time they had together. Both of them knew everything was about to change, but both wanted to hold on as long as they could.

“Hey, Olivia?” Kay kept her beanie on so her best friend couldnt see how red and wet her eyes were.

“Yes?” Olivia smiled, revealing dimples on one side of her face.

“Don't forget me when you’re famous.”

“Ha! I won’t.”

✧

Kay thought her melancholy would last forever. She lay on the couch, wrapped in a blankie, with her eyes covered by the beanie, as per usual. Her mom was yelling about something in the other room, and the tiny TV was broadcasting the hospital story again. How long had they played that same story? She didn’t know. Sighing, she sank deeper into her blanket burrito, wishing she could disappear.

Then, the doorbell rang. Her mom ceased yelling into her cell and went to get it.

“Hello?”

“Good afternoon, ma’am.” It was a man with a deep, marbled voice.

“You a solicitor?”

“No, I’m here doing a survey for the neighborhood. I work for the local government.”

“Not interested.”

“Ma’am, this survey is mandatory.”

Kay snickered as her mother made an audible groan.

“How many people live here?”

“Two, me and my daughter.”

“Where is she? In school?”

“No, she’s inside, laying on the couch.”

“Laying on the couch? Is she sick?”

“No, she’s just tired. Right Kay?” Her mom screeched.

“Yeah!” Kay returned.

“Excellent.” The man continued, without pause. “Which water company supplies your house?”

Kay pulled the beanie over her ears. In the partial silence, she could just barely hear the chatter of the tv, and the muted voices of the conversation by the door. Feeling her mind slip into sleep, Kay let her body go limp. The darkness was coming back…

“KAY, GET UP!”

“KAY!”

“K-”

“...mrgphf.” Kay groaned as life came back to her. Sliding up the beanie, she sat up on the couch. She looked towards the tv, seeing that it had become static. The air was stiff and cold on her short top. Her mom had undoubtedly left the window open again. “Mum?” Kay whispered. She stood up, shaking off the nausea. “You asleep?”

Dead silence.

“Seriously?” Nothing. She strolled around the quiet house, whistling to herself. She reached the porch area, finding the door open to the night. That was a bit odd. “Mum?” she whispered. “You asleep on the porch?” She popped her head out of the door frame, seeing no one on the porch. However, a few feet away, a man in a green vest stood in the yard, facing the street. Kay could not see his face in the dark.

She closed the door immediately. She set both locks, and gave one more frantic look around the house. “Mom, there’s a stranger in our yard!” Inhaling sharply, she flicked the light on, and ran towards the back of the house. She dashed up the stairs and flung open the door to her moms bedroom. There was no one in the bed, or in the bathroom. She opened the hall bathroom door. No one. She opened the door to her bedroom. Empty again. Racing down the stairs once more, she entered the garage, finding it pitch black, and empty.

Kay paced back and forth in the living room. She had to calm down. Her mom was probably just out for drinks. Out for drinks at 4 am… She bit her thumbnail a few times, pondering her next move. She walked to the laundry room door, throwing it open. The iron board was flipped out, and the iron sat still plugged in to the wall, giving off steam.

Thump.

Kay spun to face the door, heart pounding. She crept up to the door, and peered out through the eyehole. Outside was the man in the green vest. His body was pressed up against the door, and his head was tilted up to the peephole. His eyes were gone. Black and empty, like two dark pits on his head.

“Oh… ah.” Kay fell back.

Thump. The man slammed his body against the door. Thump.

She heard him groan through the door.

“Jesus.” she whispered. Spinning around, she ran up the stairs and into her room. She slammed the door, locking it, and dove into her bed. She could still hear the thumping in the background. It was softer now, but still very much there.

“It's a bad dream.” she smiled, pulling the covers over her face. “It’s a bad dream.” She lay perfectly still, listening to the sound of her breathing and quickly beating heart.

“It’s a bad dream.”

✧

Morning had come, but the dream was far from over. Kay had laid awake all night, hungry, tired, and scared out of her wits. She could hear the thumping for hours, until finally, it had stopped. She slipped out of bed, unlocking her door silently. She tiptoed into the hall, and stepped down the stairs, shaking from hunger and dehydration. She went to the door, and took a look out the peephole. The man from the night before was gone. Sighing, she stepped away from the door. She went to the kitchen and poured herself a nice big glass of juice, and sat at the tiny table, looking outside to the empty street. It was a nice sunny morning. Then, she grabbed the landline phone from it’s charger, and dialed her mother's number.

[Your call could not be connected] The robotic voice declared.

She dialed Olivia.

[Your call could not be connected.]

What was going on?

She sucked down the rest of her OJ and stood. She’d have to walk to her mom’s office for some answers. She checked the peephole again to make sure the coast was clear. After a few minutes, the door was unlocked, and she stepped out into the sunlight. She looked around, then froze when she saw the man in the green vest, standing beside her. He’d been just outside the view of the peephole.

The dead eyed man launched himself forward onto her, opening his mouth, and clamping it down on her right arm.

She shouted and screamed as both of them fell to the ground.

“Help!” She thrashed as the man kept chewing. “Help me!” Twisting her torso around, her left arm came up and whipped the man in the face. Going limp, he rolled off of her.

She scrambled to her feet, as the man writhed on the ground. She gritted her teeth, feeling the warm blood trickle down her arm.The man moaned, and with her left leg, she stomped on his head. The man’s face collided with the concrete, muffling his groans and knocking out his teeth. As he wriggled under her foot, he spread black blood on the entry mat.

In a desperate dash, Kay leapt over the man and back into the house, slamming the door. Then, her arm erupted in a searing pain. She fell to the ground.

She could feel something in the arm, something bad, creeping from its entry point up her arm. She coughed, spitting slobber out onto the floor. She needed to stop this…

“Grammy was always concerned about rattlesnakes. She said when we got bit, we had to take a spike and stab the bite, and suck out all the poison. She said you had to be sure you got it all.”

“That’s disgusting, Kay. Your grandma sounds awesome!”

Kay crawled to the kitchen, and on her knees, grabbed the apple knife off the counter. Gritting her teeth, she turned the knife over in her hand. She could still feel the toxin creeping, and creeping, and then, she plunged the knife into the wound.

Blood, black and thick as honey, poured from the gash. Twisting the arm over, Kay pressed her mouth to the wound. The blood tasted or rot, but she sucked. She kept sucking, until the blood became warm and coppery. She leaned back and spat out the blood onto the floor, coughing and hacking, and twitching all over from the pain. She glanced at the wound. The bite had turned the veins under her skin black, and the blackness was still creeping up the arm. She clamped her mouth down onto her arm again.

After two more spits, The veins had turned back to blue. But the blood kept on spilling out of her arm. With her body convulsing in rapid spasms, she rolled across the floor, aiming for the medicine cabinet. She twitched, and twitched, and her consciousness began to fade out. She sat up, finding herself at the door to the laundry room. She sat against the door, feeling herself going dark. There was nothing around. The blood kept on flowing, and flowing. How much had she lost? Too much. There was nothing she could do…

That was when she saw the iron.

It was still steaming, and plugged into the wall. In a last, deft motion, she yanked the iron off the board by the cord, and let it hit the tired floor. She picked it up, slowly, and with the last of her strength, rammed it into the open wound. After about two seconds, she lifted the iron. Then she pressed again. Her body convulsed one last time, and the iron dropped to the floor, it’s surface hissing and bubbling.

Then, Kay blacked out.

✧

“Uggggghhhhhhhhghagg.”

Everything was a blur. The first thing Kay was aware of was the smell of smoke and burning flesh.

As her eyes came back to reality, she became aware of herself again. She was laying on the floor of the laundry room shaking and sweating all over, and the iron had landed a few feet away. It was covered with burnt flakes of skin. In a stroke of luck, she had fallen on her left side, leaving the wound unopened. And, as her legs had twitched out from under her, they had yanked the iron chord from the wall.

It took copious amounts of energy for her to sit up. She glanced at the wound, fearing the worst. It was no longer bleeding, but it looked terrible. The cauterizing had been successful, searing the wound shut. But parts of it had become pusy and most of the skin was seared dark crimson. After a few minutes of contemplation, she decided to start scooting. She slid on her but out of the laundry room, following the thin trail of blood back to the kitchen. Reaching the fridge, she cracked the door and reached out with her good hand for the OJ carton.

Sitting on the floor in her own blood, Kay chugged the remaining juice from the carton. She felt instantly more alive. Sluggishly, she lowered the carton to her left side. She twisted, wincing from the wound. She stretched out for the water jug, and with a shaking arm, brought the jug into her lap.

She sat, drinking, for about a half an hour. For the first ten minutes, she only had the strength to take a single sip, before the jug would fall back to her lap, and she had to wait for her energy to return. Then, as time passed, she got stronger. Finally, she finished off the rest of the water, and the twitching had reduced to moderate shakes. She cursed her mom for not refilling the fridge. Inside, there were only three items. A stick of butter, A jar of mayo, and a carton of eggs.

Kay knew she was probably still too weak to open the mayo. And plain butter? Hard to say what that would do. She’d read a book some time ago, one about a guy in a plane crash, and in that book, the guy had eaten a raw egg. She didn't think that was such a good idea either. She glanced to her right. The panty looked like it was worlds away. She scooted. Her arm stung.

“Ugh…. Ok. Ok.. Let’s do this…” She scooted a little more. “Owwwwwwww.” Just a little further… almost…

✧

Thump.

Almost four hours had passed since Kay had awoken on the floor. After making it to the pantry, she’d laid into the stored food in ravenous hunger. She’d drank three bottles of water. (And peed her pants twice) She ate three bags of packaged pretzels, two apples, a bag of frito lay scoops, and she’d done her best to chew and swallow an uncooked package of instant ramen.

The sun was beginning to set outside again, and, unnervingly, she could still hear a quiet thumping on her door. The man in the green vest was still outside, waiting for her. Fortunately, he was too stupid to open the unlocked door.

By the time the darkness had set in outside, she’d made it to the bedroom, and found the journal. Now, the journal had her undivided attention. She was right handed, but her left hand writing wasn’t bad since she’d broken an arm in sophmore year. So she sat, leaning up against the bedpost, and wrote.

✧

Hour one of being an anemic wreck. Made it to bedroom and found journal. Still hear dead guy outside. Wound looks better, I got into the laundry and ripped up mums evening dress to make a bandage. I think I tied it right - I remember watching a bit about how to do it on Naked and Afraid. I hope you find this mum. I hope you

Hour nine post bite. I only saw a few episodes of walking dead at olivia’s house, but I’m pretty sure that if the virus symptoms don’t hit you after a few hours, your good. Maybe.

Jesus. Just poured water onto wound. Hurting

Hey its me again. Hour 14 post bite. Sun rising. Dead guy still on porch. Have not slept. Was able to lock door. Will try to get to bathroom.

Hour 20 post bite. Made it off the floor. Standing after a day of sitting down hurts so bad. I have a plan. I need to get to mum at work - It’s only fifteen minutes away walking, and after another day of eating I’ll be strong enough to make it. Now, I realize that I live in the suburbs of LA, meaning that there are probably literally millions of dead guys (Zombies? Walkers?) around. However these things are butt slow. Dead guy on porch takes approx three whole mins to walk from porch to kitchen window. I timed him with kitchen clock.

Day one post bite. Have decided to call dead guys “dead eyes” and these boys can't see shit. Porch guy won’t come to kitchen window unless I pound on it, hard. Decided to walk onto porch while dead guy was at window. Did not see me, but heard door. Stood still, but still knew I was there. Probably can smell me. Took four minutes to walk to porch. His face looks awful.

Hour one after fainting again. Dark outside. Clock no longer working, no idea how much time has passed. Landed on arm and opened wound. Rebandaged after getting into medicine cabinet. Fridge not working. TV dead. Water and power cut off. Using flashlight from utility drawer.

Hour four after faint. Put together kit. More dead eyes outside. Night seems to make them rowdier. Blocked door with table. Wound stopped bleeding, but feeling tired. Will write again soon.

Hour one after waking up after third faint. Day again. Food almost out. Stupid mom forgot to go to Gelsons again. Been watching window - no cars in neighbors driveways, dead eyes from last night gone. Porch guy still there. Will act out plan If I can stay conscious for the next three hours.

✧

Days had passed since ‘the event’ had occurred. Kay stood in the kitchen, preparing herself for her exit. Over the last few hours, the had torn through the house for anything she could find to protect herself. She had put on two pairs of long sweats, three layers of long sleeved shirts, and covered every inch of clothing (Save the joints) with cardboard and duct tape. She hoped it would be bite proof enough. She’d taped up her ugg boots too. While the Dead eye on her porch was preoccupied with chasing a street pigeon, she had made a dash to the side of the house to get her garden gloves.

She had raided the garage as well. The only weapon she was strong enough to lift was the garden shovel. She dug her old school backpack from the depths of the storage bins, and filled it with packs of instant ramen, water bottles, an extra pair of garden gloves, the duct tape, flashlight, her keys, and the journal. She would come back to the house if she could, but once she found her mom, she knew they would need to drive to the country immediately.

Kay stood on her back porch, heart pounding. She hoisted the shovel with both hands, her right side stinging with pain. She huffed and puffed a couple times, then dashed across the sideyard and out onto the street.

The dead eye in the green vest turned to her, mouth open with broken teeth hanging out. He stumbled at her slowly, groaning and reaching out with bruised and bloody hands.

Kay raised the shovel, gasping as her heart thudded against her ribs.

“Sorry man.” She raised the weapon over her head, and launched herself towards her opponent, bringing the shovel tip down onto his skull with a sickening crunch.

#zombie #fiction #horror #story #stories #action #adventure #writers on tumblr #writing

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