The Long Night (IV)

[31, Before]

(Money and pride.)

(It always comes down to it, doesn't it?)

(Mankind's greatest and most toxic achilles heel… And, my achilles heel. Money and pride.)

(As my skills steadily, though slowly, grew I reached a moderate talent. Success is a long journey, I knew that. But the praise from those around me started to fizzle out. And with it, my motivation.)

(Explosive growth is what the people like. To be in awe. To gawk. To excuse themselves for trying because they simply lack the talent.)

(Like growing your hair or a beard, no-one likes the middle part.)

(That messy, mediocre section. The ugly grind.)

(But, it's in this area - this middle zone - where one finds whether they can really push forward. But it takes work. Work I wasn't willing to put in. I actually convinced myself I wasn't able to.)

(All this travel, I thought, and this seasonal work; I won't be able to focus on improving at the rate I needed. I'd be too old to succeed before long.)

(I became sour. Bitter at necessity.)

(If I had money, I lamented, I'd be able to do it.)

(If only, if only.)

.

.

.

I whipped the fence railing hard against the rotting jaw of an infected. With a crack, its head snapped sideways, the body dropping to the ground in a slump. To my side, another lunged. I pivoted and brought the stick up in a short, sharp arc. Another sickening thump. It threw my stomach into knots.

I can't keep going, I thought with my teeth clenched. I'm going to collapse before the night's out!

Trails of perspiration rolled down my face and cheeks and dripped to the floor. I tasted salt and blood and the air in my lungs sat hot and heavy. Every breath became laboured and every zealous strike burned my hands.

"Keep moving!" I yelled at Kal. During our flight, we discovered two others willing to join us.

A young baker, Sephora, and the new recruit of the town guard, Miguel. We continued our break through the streets of chaos, hell erupting around us.

A large infected man crashed through the feeble wooden door of a home.

"Dad!" Sephora bawled. Before she could divert her course and bolt for the infected, Kal lifted her up and threw her over his shoulder.

"Follow Kay!" He ordered Miguel. Sephora threw desperate punches into Kal's back, but the fisherman kept moving forward. His breathing became wheezy and hoarse, but he didn't stop.

Miguel, with a shovel in hand, kept pace with me. His roars of rage filled the alleys and streets and where he went, violence followed.

We rounded a corner to see a group of infected piled on top of a young man, squirming beneath them. Miguel stepped forward without hesitation, bringing the shovel down sideways to carve an infected's rotting head in two. Before he dove into the group, I managed to wrap my arms around him and hoist him away.

"No!" I screamed. "We need to keep moving!"

Miguel struggled, elbowing me in the stomach and throwing his head around. "I'll kill them!" He shrieked. "I'll kill them, I'll kill them! Let. Me. Go!"

The young man beneath the group of infected howled and struggled. The most rotted and decomposed of the group leant over, its jaw unhinged. From within, a squirming mass could be faintly seen.

And that's when it happened. A nightmare being created. The monster bit down hard on the young, screaming man's collar. The creature's body convulsed and trembled, like a cat throwing up a hairball. After a few moments, it stepped off. The young man's cries of agony seeped into the fabric of my consciousness. A cacophony of desperation and torment.

Perhaps the silence that followed was worse. Even now, it's hard to say. The group lifted off the young man's shuddering frame and turned their attention to us.

I shoved Miguel into an alley and said: "Keep moving!"

Kal, with Sephora over his shoulder, passed by. His steps were slow and heavy. The girl on his back sobbed, weakly wrestling to escape.

"Let me at them!" Miguel snarled. "I'll kill 'em, I'll tear their heads off their necks!"

"We can't!" I snapped. Behind us, the infected closed in. Their slow, laboured steps quickened. "If we don't move now, we're going to die!"

"Get out of my way," Miguel said. "I'm going to kill-"

I slapped him hard across the cheek and shoved him back. "I need you to - just for a second - shut the hell up and listen to me. If you die, you add to our problems by becoming one of them. We are leaving. Now."

Miguel caressed his cheek and nodded. His gaze sat fixed to the ground; the shock extinguished his burning rage. I shoved him onwards and Miguel hopped into a jog down the alley.

I turned and batted away some of the infected that got close. One stepped back, dodging my swing.

Shit, it's as I thought: they're able to learn. Engaging them without putting them down for good will only make them more deadly.

I moved away from the group piling into the alley, making my way over to Kal. The fisherman was leaned against a wall, heaving, with Sephora sobbing at his side.

"Kal," I said. "I'll carry you again. Hurry, get on!"

.

.

.

The closer we got to Trigg's estate, the more infected we ran into.

As I expected, people had gathered for safety, desperate for the lord's help.

And, as feared, it was the density of this gathering which spelled their doom. A perfect feeding ground. Meals lined up neatly for the ravenous.

Men, women, children, animals; nothing that breathed was safe. In the eyes of the swarm, we were all equal. All edible.

In the alley the street over from the estate, we stopped to rest. I placed Kal down against the wall, his colour returning. Beside him, I left my bloodied fence railing. My red, raw hand burned.

"We need a vantage point," I said, bent at the waist, breathing deep. It took a moment, but I forced myself upright, wiping the sweat from my brow. "Anyone have any plans?"

They each looked at me, pale and panicked. Then, Sephora spoke up:

"I-I may not look it, but I'm pretty good at climbing. If someone could give me a lift, I could climb to the roof and take a look."

"Miguel," I said, motioning him over. "Come give me a hand, we'll boost Sephora up."

Miguel sighed and joined me. "You know, kid, you keep ordering me around, but I am your senior."

I smirked and we locked crossed hands, standing adjacent to the wall. Sephora stepped up and, with a little effort, we raised her to the awning above the door. She scrambled up and carefully scaled the tiled roof. She stepped over the ridge and disappeared from sight.

Miguel let out a loud sigh and slid down the wall, taking a seat on the ground.

"This is crazy," he said, shaking his head.

Kal stumbled over and fell to Miguel's side. "Crazy isn't even half of it. It feels like we stepped into hell." He glanced up at me. "I… I haven't had a chance to say it yet, but… thanks. Without you, I'd already be one of those things. You've done well, Kay."

I shook my head. "If you didn't wake me up, I'd be a goner," I said. "Still, it isn't over yet. We need to regroup with Lord Trigg if we can. Then, we need to get out of the city."

Kal scoffed and said, "You know, the way you always keep a level head scares the crap out of me. You're like an old man."

Not quite, I thought. But for the first time in my conscious existence, I felt thankful for my years of struggle in the corporate world. It strengthened my decision-making. Hardened my heart. Maybe it wasn't life or death back then, but failure felt as close to it as anything else.

Sephora jumped back down, landing with a light clomp. Her eyes were wide.

"It's not looking good," she said. "But the iron gate is holding up. The lord's men are well armed and guarding the gate, but it looks like they're only letting some few people through. The crowd… It's… They're been eaten from the outside in. It's chaos. We won't be getting through that way."

I dropped my head in my hands, thinking. What was the right answer? To escape, obviously. If people are group, the swarm will be preoccupied. I mean… There's nothing I can do about it, right? I'm just one man, one kid. If we bolted to the edge of town now, we might make it. We might survive. But… Is that okay?

"Is it okay," I said, voice low. "To run?"

Miguel scowled. "Run?" He snarled. "Run where? Boundary Coast is the only place that we have. The only place that'd accept a person like me. You can run if you want, coward, but I'm going to stay and fight and save this town."

Coward. That's right. I always run, even when given a second chance.

"The longer we wait," I said. "The stronger they get. I've been watching. They're learning as they go. Now is our only chance… It-It's our only chance to escape."

You goddamned coward...

Miguel pushed himself to standing, meeting my quivering gaze with his own stern expression. "Escape," he said, "is not an option. And, if these things become more dangerous over time, then that's all the more reason to stop them right here, right now. We can't let it leave the coast. But, hey, if you want the rest of the world to be consumed, then run. Don't worry, though, you won't have to live with your guilt for long: it'll catch up to you eventually."

I swallowed, chest heavy. The voice within said again: you pathetic coward...

"I… I don't want to die," I stammered out, tears forming at the corners of my eyes. My head spun.

Coward, coward, coward, coward, coward!

Miguel placed his hand on my shoulder, lips curled into a wicked smile. His eyes held a manic maelstrom of wrath and misery. A look of crazed determination. The voices in my head quieted.

"So," he said, extending the bloodied fence rail towards me. "Don't die, then."