Chapter Three

*Reggie*

Though my heart aches, I leave as fast as I can. My sisters will find some reason I should stay if I linger. Within the hour, I am packed and ready, holstering our father’s handgun while slinging his rifle over my shoulder. Kaine watches me, sadness in her eyes. I do not take offense that Michelle and Steph aren’t here to tell me goodbye. It is never easy to say goodbye, not in this world. You never know if it will be your last.

“They love you; they just don’t handle this well. You are their younger sister. They look at us like babies.” Kaine murmurs, her voice wavering as she voices my thoughts. Pasting on a fake smile, I turn and give her a hug.

“It's fine Kaine. I know they love me as much as I love them. Watch Steph for me and please make sure she takes her meds. Promise that you will stay in the bunker no matter what. If I do not come back, do not come looking for me.” She nods and then there is nothing left to be said. Or rather, there is too much being left unsaid. Too many regrets, too many emotions. Too many things that threaten to overwhelm me, namely fear. Fear that if I don’t do this now, I will chicken out. Failure isn’t an option, not when my sisters need me.

Kaine is as awash with emotion as I am. I can see her denial, the desire to fight me on this. To demand promises of me. To demand that I return safely but we both know I can’t make that promise. The monsters outside are no joke. I could be dead before the day is over. Making empty promises is more hurtful than saying nothing at all.

Bending down I snatch up my bag, slinging it over my shoulders before I stare at the double doors, building up the courage to open them.

The doors were my father’s pride and joy. It is a double feature that requires a second person to close them. They can’t be opened from the outside, only the inside. The first one gives a hiss as it releases the airlock. Both Kaine and I give a harsh cough at the dust that rushes in. Not wasting any time, we rush up the stone stairs to the second, smaller door.

“Be safe.” She murmurs before throwing it open just enough for me to move through before quickly shutting it behind me. New fear surges to the surface as I look up into the dimly lit warehouse above me. This fear always hits me when I am exposed to the outside world. A world that used to be safe, but now wants nothing more than to kill me.

On the off chance that something heard the doors being opened, I quickly climb the stairs. Sparing the warehouse only a glance, I move to the bay doors. Pressing my ear to the cold metal, I listen for movement on the other side. When I hear nothing, I drop to my belly and lift the door a few inches. I can waste no time getting out, every second giving time for something to start hunting me.

Bright light spears me in the eyes, blinding me for a moment as I try to see if there is anything waiting to ambush me on the other side. The sight that greets me breaks my heart and for a few seconds I lay there to gather my inner strength. It is a risk but the memories that assail me are paralyzing.

My childhood home sits a few yards away, destroyed by ransacking monsters long ago. The broken windows are reminiscent of the tears in my heart, tears that feel like they are constantly bleeding, my grief escaping like blood from a wound. No amount of grief will bring them back though. My sisters have to be my priority now. Sisters that need me to be strong.

Shaking my head to clear away the grief, I push forward crawling into the outside world, quickly standing and drawing the rifle from my back. When nothing rushes forward to eat me, I turn and shut the door the way it was before. Pulling out a compass, I use it to find North and then begin my trek to town. My mind is blissfully numb, survival my only thought.

Stepsville, Texas isn’t a large town. The college there was the only thing that brought it life before the fall. My parents never liked it, finding the rush of people too much for that small of a town. They moved us into the countryside when we were little to avoid the rush. Loved it as a child. Not so much as an adult trying to survive the end of the world.

By car it would have only been a ten-minute drive into the city center. By foot, while avoiding the main roads? At least half a day or more of walking. If I have to stop and hole up somewhere to avoid being eaten? There is no telling how long it could take me. Despair hits me hard and I have to fight myself to not turn around and go right back to the safety of our home. The further I walk, the more the numbness fades.

The clearing surrounding the warehouse crunches under foot, the grass dying in anticipation of the coming fall. If only the sun would die with it. Risking a glance upwards, I want to cry at how hot the day already promises to be. Even this early in the morning, I can feel the sweltering heat begin to weigh on me as I move into the somewhat cooler shade of the trees.

The only downside is that though it is cooler, it isn’t safer. Scanning the trees around me, I am careful to listen for any signs that I am not alone. The terrain also takes most of my attention the further I go from the safety of the warehouse. For about an acre or two surrounding the destroyed house, the terrain is barren. Here in the trees, it is hard work to not trip over the many rocks and stumps sticking out.

Though, I guess I can consider myself lucky that there aren’t that many caves around. The more caves, the more monsters that can hide inside of them. As it is, every shifting shadow sends a pang of fear and panic through me until I am a mess. Who I was before the fall is slipping out of me little by little until I feel like a failure. Grasping desperately for the calm of my inner deputy, I take a moment to gather myself.

Breathing deeply, I scan the surrounding area slowly. Thank God I do, because otherwise I wouldn’t have seen the beast crawling through the underbrush towards me. A surprised shout is ripped from my throat as I bring my gun around to point at the ugly bastard.

The beast is a mix between a cat and a rabies infected racoon with a touch of alligator thrown in. Its body is that of a cat, the head of a raccoon and a thick alligator-like tail. Fangs are revealed as it hisses at me, crawling low to the ground. Giving a horrid purr-like chitter as it gets closer. With a cry I swing the rifle at it, connecting with its snout with a sickening crunch.

The beast gives a loud cry before rolling in the grass, seeking to rid itself of the pain. Taking the opportunity to flee, I turn and run further into the trees, mindful of the sounds of pursuit as I go. The lengthening shadows make me paranoid, and I am already jumpy when I hear the howl of the beast I left behind, or at least I hope it was that one…until I hear a chorus of sounds go up. They are eerily like a coyote pack on the hunt, the cries echoing all around me until I am convinced there are hundreds of the little monsters.

Running harder I make it to another clearing, this one with a broken-down fence between me and the nearest stand of trees. Despite the terror inducing sounds coming from behind me, I cautiously slow down and scan the area in front of me, inspecting for any of the horrors that could be lurking.

With no monsters in sight, another savage chittering cry from behind me makes me careless. Bounding for the fence, I am determined to put it between me and the hoard coming for me. My legs take me to a downed portion, and I quickly leap over. Freedom carries me on the wind and is quickly stolen from me as I feel a burning grip on my lower leg. With a scream, my own momentum slams me down to the ground, hard.

Stars dance before my eyes as I try to regain my breath, the creatures getting closer every second. Panic sets in and all my previous training is forgotten in the face of death. Sitting up and running on autopilot, I reach for what has ahold of me.

My fingers find the barbed wire before my eyes do and I bit back a scream at the shredded flesh of my ankle. No time. The beasts can be seen in the darker shadows, moving like a wave in the darkness, assessing me as I struggle to undo the wire that has wrapped itself into my skin and my pants.

One is quite bold, stepping free of the trees to snarl at me before sniffing the ground, walking in almost a straight line to another point before sniffing again. To my surprise though, none of them make a move for me. Not looking a gift horse in the mouth, I manage to pull the wire from around my leg, grimacing at the wounds. There is nothing I can do about them until I find shelter.

Shakily I climb to my feet, staring down the ugly critters, afraid they might surge forward in a wave to kill me if I wait any longer. Only…they don’t. Not even one moves past the invisible line that they all crawl forward to sniff. The pace it in a group, creepily chittering at each other as they prowl.

Unease fills me as I look around, holding in my whimpers of pain. Awareness of the noise I am making silences me. In the silence I become aware of an oppressive feeling. Being in the open is never ideal and the little monsters in front of me obviously know something I don’t. Crouching low, I rip off a piece of my pant leg to wrap around my ankle, wincing at the sting it brings. The rusty metal makes me want to cringe and fears of tetanus make me want to cry. I cannot though. I must stay strong and move on, praying that whatever invisible force holds the tiny nightmares back stays working until I am long gone.

Moving low to the ground I make it to the cover of the trees; opposite the ones I came from. Every few feet I look back to see if they have followed but they never do. They are gone, as eerily as they came. My heart is in my throat, fear eating at me until I take off at a run again, my injured leg making it difficult but not impossible. All the while, a litany of curses play in my mind and self-recrimination weighs heavily upon my heart.

The image of my sister and her swollen, infected wound gives me the burst of energy that I need to reset my course for Stepsville. My compass thankfully wasn’t lost in my fall, and I pick up the pace again, running full out for the city. My leg throbs and burns but I block it out, determined to get as far as I can before I must attend to it.

Ducking under a low hanging branch, I scan the shadows around me, not wanting to be caught unaware by any more of the cat-gator-coon monsters. Giggling quietly at the name, I maneuver myself into the sparse light, letting it guide me as well as my compass.

A bush shivers ominously to my right and I pause, squinting through the shadows to try and see what caused it. Time seems to slow as I wait with bated breath, a whole slew of creepy crawlers being possible until an innocent rabbit hops out, moving stealthily. With a relieved sigh I move to continue when a bone chilling roar echoes through the trees, loud and clear.

This time my whole body begins to shake as I burst into a run, knowing instinctively that it doesn’t belong to a cat-gator-coon. The sound seems to go on forever, followed by more of the roars, getting closer with each one. My mind is in a panic and tears of fear and frustration fall down my face as my ankle finally gives out beneath me.

Unwilling to give up I scan the trees around me, trying to find somewhere to hide as another roar, much closer, sends me into fight or flight. Guns be damned. With how large this thing sounds; they won’t do much good. Using what little strength I have left; I climb to my feet and hobble to a nearby tree.

Hand-over-hand, I climb until I am at least ten feet off the ground. The sound of trees and brush being crushed has me swinging my head to the left, staring in horror as a true living nightmare comes into view. Two things occur to me at once. One, I am nowhere near high enough in the tree and two, I’m dead. The monster’s head is higher up than I am!

Eyes bugging out, I scoot back trying to merge myself with the trunk of the tree and disappear. It resembles nothing I have ever seen before and yet there are features that are familiar. The shape of it is like a massive wolf…if wolves were covered in black iridescent scales and had the sails of a Spinosaurus from forehead to tail tip.

A shiver wracks my body as it swings its massive head in my direction, as if I made a noise. I might have, the fear clutching my body is like nothing I have ever known before. On all the calls I went on, even active shooter cases, I never experienced this. My body doesn’t seem to know whether I am hot or cold. Flashes of both shoot through me until I can do nothing more than shake like a leaf.

As if my shaking is audible, the beast shifts its eyes towards me, as if it can see me through the foliage. I am snared in place by a bright azure gaze. I feel the weight of that stare to my very soul. Tensing, I dig my hands into the limb beneath me, my nails breaking off against the bark as if I can anchor myself to it, protecting myself from those eyes.

There is no doubt in my mind that death is near. The beast narrows its gaze upon me, freeze framing towards me, much like a cat does when it has its sights on prey. A scream builds in my chest, working its way up my throat as all conscious thought flees, only a thread of sanity remains, and it is that thread that forces the scream back down. Drawing attention or making sudden movements is not a wise choice when being hunted.

Autopilot takes over and I slowly pry my hands from the bark, never taking my eyes off the beast as I move. There are quite a few trees between it and I. If I can make it down into the denser woods, I might have a chance. Something this large would have trouble traversing through the thick foliage. From branch to branch I go, watching as the nightmare on four feet draws closer. Close enough that I swear I can feel its warm breath upon my goosebump covered skin.

My nose wrinkles in preparation for its smell, expecting something rancid and vile. To my surprise, and equal amounts of horror, its breath smells of…nothing. So, it hasn’t been feasting upon the rotting corpses as my subconscious so kindly imagined, the image matching the nightmare standing before me.

I freeze in fear when I realize that my climbing has only distracted me, allowing it to come alarmingly closer. Instinctively I want to flinch back, waiting for it to strike. Its maw is canine-esk but when it leans forward the gleaming black scales and hand length teeth destroy any dog-like features I might have associated it with.

It is so alien that I am frozen in awe and fear at being so close to one of the behemoths from the third wave. Being this close and still living is unheard of. A deep rumble vibrates its massive chest and feel it in my very bones. The tree I’m hiding in seems to shake with the force of it, yet I can’t hear it. I can only feel it.

My breathing picks up until I am almost panting, all the emotions coursing through me until I am immobilized. The monster rumbles again, the vibration deeper this time. For a few moments we are locked in a silent battle, neither of us breaking our stare. To my shock, it steps back away from my tree, its azure eyes never leaving my face.

We stay like this for long, agonizing moments until I finally become aware of my aches and pains, the throbbing in my ankle and hands are almost unbearable. Still afraid to take my eyes off the beast, I reach around to my back to grasp my backpack. I gauge the monster’s reactions to every move I make until with a sigh, I resign myself to my fate. If I am meant to die, nothing I do will stop this monstrosity. He could probably eat me and the tree I am in.

Still, I grab the rifle off my back, chambering a round, I lay the gun facing towards it, ready to go. Not that I think it will do much good. The thing is simply too massive and too fast. Marginally, I move until my backpack is sitting between my legs. The sound of the zipper is almost painfully loud, but the giant stays still as I search my bag. My supplies are limited but I find what I want rather quickly.

The small bottle of disinfectant is like liquid gold in The After, and I make sure to grasp it tightly in my hand. Casting one more look at the harbinger of my doom, I see that it has sat on its haunches. Telling myself it is nothing more than a massive, scaley, predatory poodle I get to work on patching myself up.

My leggings are stuck to my skin, and I hiss quietly in pain when I yank them quickly up, ripping the already healing scabs off. Fresh blood trickles down my leg. As robotically as I can, I rip off a piece of my already torn pants and use that to dab the blood, pouring little bits of the disinfectant solution into each ragged wound.

The burn is terrible, so I work on my hands while I wait for it to pass. The urge to shout in pain is strong and I bite back each whimper as the burn only seems to intensify. Turning my attention fully to my nails I see that they are torn and broken and there are little cuts here and there but nothing major.

As the pain in my leg subsides, I build up the courage to look at my wound. For only a moment I forget that I am supposed to be watching the Jurassic era wolf that wants to eat me. Wholly focused on my pain, I shift my gaze to my leg and my heart literally ceases to beat and a scream is torn from my throat. The predatory poodle is now inches from my leg, the eyes blazing as it sniffs my wounds.

The urge to kick it is strong, but I think better of it. The image of its toothy maw eating my leg in one bite is enough of a deterrent. Instead, I freeze like a deer in headlights. At this point my fear is a living, breathing thing sitting on my chest until I can barely breath. Slowly, as if afraid to spook me, the monster moves forward, crowding me into the trunk of the tree. Closing my eyes tight, I prepare for death.