The gargantuan polygonal trapdoor opened above of me, revealing the horrors of the gruesome battlefield; not an inch of ground remained unburnished with human remains. I took in another lungful of chemicals. The toxic gas mingled with the metallic smell of blood and rotten intestines, concocting a choking elixir that burnt the lining of my oesophagus with a sulphurous stench. I lowered my shotgun as I assessed the surrounding area. It was safe… for now.
I’d spent the past 289 days underground in an old hydraulic filtration cannister. I’d repurposed it to become a cylindrical capsule for supporting life, closely resembling the inside of a giant tumble dryer. That’s 289 days spent cowering below ground since the beginning of the annihilation of the human race. 289 days since the army of the dead left behind the irradiated rock, which we called Earth. That’s how we’ll be remembered: the species that performed a global suicide, obliterating every other form of earthling life with them. Pertinacious, imprudent and impulsive- perhaps we were the real monsters?
With barely enough water to survive the night, I gained the courage to clamber out of my makeshift bunker into the remains of the dilapidated village on the horizon. The radio transmissions I’d intercepted had been true after all; the once bustling streets of the bazaar had indeed become a nuclear wasteland. Acid rain had corroded almost every building to form a graveyard of brittle exoskeletons. No wonder why no one had survived above ground.
Like a silent shadow, I skirted around the corner and along thirteen buildings. I ran an electronic plasma device around the edges of a titanium barrier on the furthest one along, making a small high-pitched screech. I shuddered. Even the slightest whisper could lead to my imminent death. On completing the shape, I moved the machine to the centre of the circle and pressed the suction cup to its surface. With a deft and precise movement, that seemed like a punch that died mid-air, the metal was removed and laid quietly down.
That was it- the last tree, incarcerated as if it were a sadistic tyrant. The once almighty oak curled up, cadaverous from its lack of nutrients. It’s emaciated claws outstretched towards me in desperation as its life drained to darkness in its dying glory. A bitter, shivering wind blew on the back of my neck like the touch of lifeless fingers. I looked back. Nothing. The world was completely still. There was no movement; not even the blackened leaves quivered, but over the silence brooded a ghostly lullaby, an icy breath lingering in the icy air.
I hammered a spile into the tree’s sturdy trunk; a tidal wave of water came gushing out. The fluid was bitter, rotting, stinging my throat as I practically inhaled it down. I didn’t care.
The ghostly lullaby soon grew to a low, monotonous murmur. Footsteps. Lots of them. Another stomp, another shuffle, now only seconds away. It was the infected… it had to be. Dropping the water beakers, I began to run away from the hoard, away from my escape route and into the labyrinth of corridors ahead. A peristaltic tsunami of rancid flesh came hurtling behind me. I turned another corner. No exit. I couldn’t afford another dead end. I looked forward at the demonic beasts. Their sinister eyes penetrated through my soul like dark pools of nightmares, glistening with hostility. Gasping for air in trepidation, I continued darting from corner to corner. Then I remembered… the shotgun! I fired without a second of contemplation. The bullet launched into a monster’s head. A geyser of blood came surging onto the ground, now lubricated with guts, but the monsters continued in a staggered stampede.
Then I saw it- a glimmer of light flooding in through an opening at the end of the hallway. My somewhat sluggish run grew to a desperate sprint. I wasn’t going to die! But before I could reach the exit, an achromatic hand wrapped around my leg. I screamed.
