Chapter 01: Run with no looking back

Chapter 01: Run with no looking back

The mother fuckers seem to feel my smell.

I barely turn off the flashlight, the three of them come to the freezer and surround it, scratching the top like animals, curious. Sometimes I believe to understand what they “say”.  It must be sad, a pseudo life, without a choice, damned to wandering in a world full of carrion. Sad as mine, obliged to keep a no-end running, to sleep with an eye open, avoid turning myself one of them. Then I remember how capable of destruction they are, shattering women, men, even children, like it was something natural, like they wasn’t created by God. I let that thought go away. I could never get their “language”.

About God: still believe Him, as far as possible. Respect Him, fear Him and use to pray. I had found survivors who blame Him for all this mess. Will be God to blame? Or the guilty is just ours, the truly responsibles to attract that hell? My opinion, no one is innocent. I am not; you, possible reader, neither. Innocence was lost a long time ago. And when you lose it, give up. You’ll never find it again.

The freezer is out of power, my luck, or else I would be a piece of ice cream right now. Besides, power is a thing you don’t see in every corner since the outbreak has begun. The filled places became rare. This one, happily, isn’t in the list. I’m inside for a while, fenced by rotten meat. The smell is loathsome, gives me nausea, but is my only option.

Turning on the flashlight one more time, it starts to fail. I look for something that can support me in the escape, but I guess it’s going to be harsh get out using meat.

Then a hole. Not wide enough to let me pass through, but maybe allow me distract them. Writhing my entire body, I feel something slimy on my arm skin and twitch the lips fighting against a gag reflex. I fail. A subtle noise make them excited. Fuck! The scratches become punches. Will that things know to open closures? Well, certainly I won’t be the one to teach them.

Through the hole, where should be the engine, I can see the bastards in a mirror on the wall. Only their backs are visible, dressed with bloody clothes. They seem too focused on the closure to notice my moves.

Taking advantage of the tight space as I can, grab a chunk of meat, pass through my arm by the passage and, just one shoot, it falls behind a countertop. In the mirror I see all three of them suddenly turning back and seek for the sound. My shot.

Wary, I push the cover to run as fast as I can. Dammit! Those butchers must have stuck the cap when punching. I push and push and nothing happens. I can’t believe it! My turn to beat. I get up with difficulty, my feet tangled in the mass of rottenness, and a shoulder push. Three strokes and it opens.

The oxygen invade in a split second. There’s time even to breath. As I had imagined, the fuss attracted them. Their senses are unusual, and do not hesitate before attacking. The time is barely enough to get up on the side and jump over them, landing, rolling and running through the front door, shutting it to delay them.

I never thought my Parkour abilities could help me this way. When I had a regular life used to train a lot. I loved to climb trees, walls, increase my jumps. Once I even published videos on Youtube. Pure exhibitionism turned survival techniques.

Running throught the avenue, I divert from broken cars and spread out garbage, while ferocious screams and quick steps get closer. Jaboticabal, a Sao Paulo' small town, was taken by death. Almost seventy thousand inhabitants forgotten from the rest of the world. Each of the streets are spotted with one pool of blood, at least. There’s no birds in the sky. Animals ran away before get devoured. Human instinct sucks.

Keeping my strength, I run without a break, focused on gymnasium side park trees. A corner overcomed and the screams gets numerous, louder. I start a laugh, a chuckle, uncontrolled, but don’t lose my breath. A few foot from my goal, take a deep breath, maintain focus, and go up with a wall run, just my right feet against the wood. A second and I get the top of the tree. Big, ancient, with thick and old roots.

Some fragile branches broken and fall over the cannibal group starting to agglomerate around. They keep grunting and pointing  the hands to me. Some of them try to hold above, but despite speed, their coordination is not too good.

That have frightened me in beginning; now is part of my routine. Running until get breathless, do not looking behind. This is my life. Don’t mean that I am accustomed. Nobody can be with killers always surrounding, but I am resigned.

Reclining myself over a strong twig I calmly take my breath without getting my eyes away from the accursed. Slowly my heartbeats get back to normal. In my backpack I look for something to eat. There’s some mature bananas. Two of them exploded and turn the inside a sticky mess. I hate when that happens! Only one of my three squeeze bottles have water, half of it. I relive the dryness in my throat as I can, drier than their skin. I rummage inside my backpack, knowing at my deep that there’s nothing else to find. Hunger hurts my stomach. Don’t eat real food a long time. The stench took over any hint of serviceable food. I may find something in the gym.

After feeling the last drop running through my throat, I scrape the backpack inner and take the smashed bananas. I am not in position to waste. Slowly chewing, I try to find a way to arrive safe in the gymnasium.