Sweat drips down my face, my entire body beginning to shake as I feel It’s presence behind me. I know It can’t see, It’s eyes having rotted away, maggots feasting on It’s flesh. I slowly and carefully inch towards the wall nearest to me, stepping over broken glass and rusty nails. Knowing that It relies on hearing alone, I hold my breath for as long as I can, praying that It will leave. After nearly a minute of It standing an inch away from me, It turns to walk away. Just then, my lungs betray me and I let out a loud cough, not realizing what I had done until It turned back to me and started barreling toward me.
“Shit.” I back up quickly, soon finding myself cornered against the wall. I look up at It, thick, black liquid pouring from It’s mouth as it opens. I see my fate lie between those teeth as It prepares to close It’s mouth around me. My mind goes blank, every survival instinct I kept from cavemen times kicking in as I chomp down on It’s arm. Thick, black, bitter fluid pours into my mouth along with squirming maggots. I pull away, coughing and sputtering, and instantly vomiting up everything I had eaten earlier. When I turn back around, It has fallen to the ground, seizing and convulsing, eyes slowly reforming and filling the gaping holes in It’s face. I watch in bewilderment as It’s gaping wounds slowly heal themselves, maggots falling on the ground and squirming away. It’s skin slowly changing from a lifeless gray to a lively rose undertone.
It is no longer It, but a he. A young boy, no more than 20, lays on the ground in front of me, perfectly still. I drop my bag and fall to the ground on my knees next to him. I touch his forehead and his eyes pop open, causing me to jerk my hand back.
“Ow, dude, I’ve got a killer hangover.” He looks up at me slowly, a look of confusion, then slowly, recognition. “Oh shit, wait. Wait, wait, wait.” He sits up and puts his head in his hands. “Am I a zombie?”
Thoroughly confused but willing to help, I answer. “Uh, yes. Well not anymore. You were attacking me and uh, well.” I gesture to his arm that’s sporting a fresh bite mark.
He looks down at it, then back up at me, eyes wide. “Did you bite me?”
“Uh, yes?”
“Dude! So not cool!”
“Well sorry, but in my defense you were about to turn me!” I huff, standing up stiffly, and swinging my backpack over my shoulders. “I’m leaving before any more come. Do you want to come with, since you’re obviously not able to survive on your own?” He looks offended at first, but then his face shifts to a look of shame.
“Yeah, totally. Let’s go.” I help him get to his feet before walking out of the building.
We walk for miles, talking the whole way. I find it helpful to have someone to talk to now, so I don’t end up going crazy or having a meltdown. We talk about everything: family, old friends, past relationships. We talk about everything left behind. Everything that got destroyed.
We arrive at the place I’ve decided to call my home in a world where I’ll never have a home again. I open the door and am greeted by the cold, empty halls. He asks me what this place is, I tell him that it was my home. Now it’s a lonely excuse for a house. He decides that it will become our home.
After seven long years of being alone in this terrifying world, I finally found a friend. And hopefully a cure to save this barren wasteland.
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