Breathe In.
...
...
...
"Sweetie?..."
"Where are you?..."
"Come on back inside. Dinner's ready, okay."
...
...
"Sweetie?..."
...
"Shhh... It'll all be okay."
"Don't worry. We'll be alright now. It's just a bad storm. Everything will be back to normal in just a bit. Just go on and eat your food, now, okay?"
...
Pit. Pat.
Pit. Pat.
"That's my boy. Go eat your veggies, now. I'll be right there."
Pit. Pat.
Pit. Pat.
"See you soon."
...
...
...
...
...
Pit. Pat.
...
...
BZZZZZZZZZZ.
...
RING!
"Good morning stu-students! Your principal spe-speaking and on this Fri-riday on Ambu-bula High, it-it's Pizza Da-Da-Day! Come get your free slice of pi-pi-pizza down by the cafeteria and get yourself ano-another for only one doll-doll-doll-doll-doll-doll-doll-dollar!"
BZZZZZZZZZZZ.
"Don't forget that it's pic-pic-picture day to-today so make s-sure that you look your absolute b-b-best! Be sure to bring your big-biggest sm-smi-sm-smile! It'll be taking place during #%$^^&#* so ^&*@ be down by &*@!"
BZZZZZZZZZZZ.
"That's all for now-now-now-now so thanks for listening-listening-listening and have a wonder-wonderful..."
...
"WEEKEND."
...
...
Click.
...
...
...
CRRRRREEEEAAAAKKK.
...
eeeEEEEAAAKKKK-
...
Back to school, I guess.
The walk over here was a long one. When I looked up at the sky before entering the school, I saw that the sun was past the middle and was heading closer to the west. It was past noon and time was running out.
Additionally, I've arrived at school with only a slight grip on my bearings.
I have barely any food and no water left after drinking the last bottle roughly an hour ago. And on top of that, I've had to tie my bag like a plastic one in order to put on my back. And even then, it's still not secure. The torn sections keep leaking out from the leftover liquids that I dumped out, surprising me every time a drop drips onto my jacket.
Everything was still aching. Everything smelt like crap.
And everything was getting tiresome.
...
SIGH.
Let's hope there's something in here at the very least.
Pit pat.
Pit pat.
Weird.
I find it very odd and troubling that the speaker box played that message. Considering that it should be dead like everything else in this place.
Odd.
Well, best not to dwell on it. Not when there's scavenging to be had.
THUD!
...
The office. The only room here that doesn't seem to be as damaged as everything else in this place. Because man...
The school was just... gone. From the outside, it doesn't fully look that way. There's just some vines and grime that covered the school, which still appeared tall and mighty like in the older times. However, it was anything but okay.
The blue-and-white-colored hallways of old had lost its hues, left in barren, decrepit conditions while the floor tiles kept shifting under my weight as if the foundation and flooring below me was about to give. The decay nature and time have caused the building to become unstable and corroded with dust, grime, and rust. It felt like the whole damn place was taken over by the law of the land.
And soon, it might just be the land.
Additionally, the building had barely anything worthy of scavenging. Mostly due to the fact that around the time everything went to hell, a damn helicopter crashed onto the building from the roof, decimating nearly everything inside while surprisingly leaving the exterior relatively intact, minus a bunch of broken windows and holes. Thankfully, no one was inside by that time. Only the pilots, though, were killed.
It... It was tragic, to be sure.
...
Anyways, straying away from the dark, desolate backgrounds of this building, I think it's kind of weird that I'm back here again. Ever since the incident occurred, I thought I'd never see this place again. Yet here I am, looking for scraps that may have left behind when the building got abandoned.
...
Pit pat.
Man...
Seems like a lifetime since I last sat down in one of these red chairs. They sat next to the walls, surrounding the office's cubicles. Heh, it's ironic that I'd give anything to sit down in those chairs one last time. To remind myself of what used to be. Sadly, though, the chairs' bottom halves appeared to be slim and weak, capable of breaking with just a single push.
So I think I'm good for now.
Anyways, I used to like the paintings that hanged across the walls and the little trinkets I'd eyeball on the advisors' desks and the comics that laid on top of the small tables next to the chairs. Would spend my wait-time devouring every humorous photo I could read off of them before I'd get scorned by the small, yet stout student counselor about some... things I did.
Which I honestly didn't really pay attention to most of the time. I was too busy imagining a world beyond our own to really give the counselor two cents of my time and mind.
Probably should've dreamt up a world without her.
Because it would've eventually turned out true. Just a bit quicker than I thought.
Swiping my hand before the dusty and heavily scarred wooden desks and over the rusty and metallic cabinets, I searched all around the dilapidated room for resources.
Anything good.
Anything edible.
Anything that I could at least use. Because at this point, being surrounded with once colorful walls of the office that now just engorges this space with monochrome gray and brown, anything would good.
Opening a few drawers around me, all I could find was some few pencils, stained paper, paper clips, slightly dried markers, and trinkets that I recognized from their time out in the open. Despite there being scratches, marks, and even some cracks in some of them, they remained somewhat intact. To what they entailed and what they were, they varied. From a strange waving cartoon cat, missing a hand, to a bruised baseball, severely damaged and forgotten about as its red almost resembles the black of my shirt. No matter their condition, though, these trinkets immediately instilled a sense of value from me. Not just because they reminded me of the past. But since these things did come from the past, they become remnants of what once was.
Of what was once here.
I stashed the items into my bag, which began to weight itself downwards even more as I lifted it back up. The damages that the bag has endured through was apparent. And yet, it was still trying to hold itself together. Especially with the new things I've placed in there.
However, I left out the worn-out baseball to be used as a projectile.
After all, those damned critters love these things. So, they can still serve as a small distraction. It just depends if they still do.
Putting the ball in the right pocket of my worn-out dark blue pants, I continued searching through the other side of the office and immediately, I found something... familiar.
A small square of paper that was initially faced down then flipped on itself as I pulled a drawer outwards, revealing a familiar figure's face along with a man and a kid, presumedly a family. I looked out of the drawer and into the scuffed silver title in front of the desk. Turning it towards me, it read: "Senior Advisor, Anglie Garplio", a name that, while the first name wasn't as readily available to me, the last one did spark something inside me.
She was this woman that did these presentations about the dangers of technology and how it was corrupting us, taking over our lives. However, I speak for everyone as I state that we really didn't care for it since we were mostly predisposed to technology throughout all our lives; both in school and out of it. So, what was the point, really?
Well, as it turns out, her intentions were eventually made clear.
Crystal.
Nowadays, technology, especially electricity, has now become a commodity exclusive to those that can make it. And you can barely find those kind of people these days.
Hell, I can barely find any people as is.
The only light these days, whether digital, physical, or something else entirely, can only be found within the SUN itself. And even that's temporary.
However, like that speaker, there are some remnants of working technology in this world. Trickling in and out of life.
In some instances during my journey, usually at night, I found a few posts that briefly buzzed with a yellow, monotone light, usually spread across a small patch of concrete. I try not to be out in the middle of the ominous night, but in those small moments of brief revival, I'd spent my time mostly just standing within its area of effect, staring into its lustrous shine.
Sure, I was blinding myself during my time, eventually leaving momentarily dazed after they shut back done. But it felt so nostalgic for me to do so, acting as if I was reaching towards a distant memory of mine. A moment that I can tap into before it slowly fades back into the dark.
Just before I do fade with it as well.
...
Anyways, getting back on track here, the woman, despite her boring presentations, definitely seemed like a woman with good intentions. And while I don't doubt her definite departure from this world, she seemed like that type of lady who should be remembered, even if it's only through this dusty, old photo. And so, as to preserve her memory and to leave it from further harm, I placed the photo back into the drawer and closed it.
Once done with my little memorial, I kept rummaging through the other side of the office for additional resources. However, I was a little more picky with my findings, and of course, only some barely made the cut.
More pencils. More sheets of paper. And unfortunately, more broken trinkets. It was even worse than before.
A beheaded doll... A paddle board with no paddle ball...
Damn. There really is nothing worth while here.
Sigh.
As I picked up a few menial things off the drawers, placing them into some small pockets of my bag, and stood up, hanging the bag behind my back, I was about to leave until I remembered that I haven't checked out one of the more significant rooms of this school: the principal's office.
And, for as much as there was no purpose into looking into some of the classified documents that the principal might've had, there could still be some valuable things inside.
And if there's something edible inside... It'd be well worth the time spent.
I walked up to the principal's door, highlighted in a now faded shade of blue. I gripped on the door's handle and thrusted it downwards, abruptly stopping half-way.
The door was locked. Surprising. I thought the room was forgotten. But I guess the principal still had some dignity left to have it locked.
Or a lack of it.
Well, in any case, I'm going to have to force it. Reaching to the side of my bag, I grabbed my trusty, yet dented crowbar, placed one of its points against the gap in the door, and with a lot of force, pulled. As the wood crackled and some pieces of it crumbled under its force, I found it particularly strange how the door still held up.
Is the lock made of steel? Is the door made of steel? Or I am just that weak?
Well, it doesn't really matter, anyways.
CLANK!
CRRREEEEEEAAAAAKKKKK.
...
THUD.
It's open now.
With the door swung open, I entered the room, stowing away my crowbar to the left side of my bag. As I crossed the threshold between rooms, I breathed in what felt like a big cluster of dust, which spurred quite the cough out of me. Despite the cleaner appearance, this place smelt like every other room in this forsaken school. You could tell as a peculiar stench came around, reminding me of the smell of rotting wood.
Anyhow, in my initial observations of the place, the room appeared to be slightly preserved, which was amusing to say the least. The walls weren't as damaged as the outer office's and the ceiling was only slightly yellowish, holding up a wooden fan, which gently and sluggishly trudged along through the air. By the room's end, there was a tall, smudgy window, which was letting the light from outside illuminate the room by only a nominal margin since the window was still mostly covered by a rugged and tattered golden curtain.
Beginning the search across the tight room, I found more trinkets, decorated along some shelves, on the desk, and even on the floor.
Hard to believe such an 'immaculate' room could be left in such a mess. Perhaps the principal came here in a hurry, only nabbing a few things before he left. Although, he didn't grab everything as I found significantly more trinkets than in the rest of the office, being more varied. And yet, they still remained practically useless.
A scuffed globe. Some trophy for some ineligible achievement. Some old photos of what appeared to be New York, Alaska, and Hawaii. Some dusty souvenirs. Hell, there's even what seems to be the principal's family in a little card, taking a little trip down South Carolina.
God, I wish I could've travelled like that back then. I was stuck in this little town for as long as I could remember. Just doing nothing, you know.
Well, other than those things, there was nothing of interest really. I didn't want to take anything that was related to this man. No offense, but the man didn't really stand out for me. Unlike that advisor, he was just... there. Like a mannequin. Acting all kind and vigilant about us. Yet, I knew all he wanted to do was get the hell out of here.
In the end, he did, I believe. And whether he's alive or not is no longer my concern.
After putting down the principal's things, I continue searching through his desk, now reaching through the drawers.
Hopefully, I can find...
Thoom.
...
...
YES.
Inside the first cabinet, I could find a few bags of chips. Normal-sized.
They're dusty, of course, but the bags still ain't open so I'd figure it was alright.
Finally. Something edible.
Sure, not the best source of nutrition out here, but hey. Better than nothing.
There were also 2 bars of granola under it all but I already knew those were perishables. Already WAY past their due dates.
Unfortunately, though, beggars can't be choosers. And I can't afford to pass them up.
THUD.
...
Thoom.
Stuffing the bag with the chips and the granola bars that I found, I continued searching through the drawers, finding some metals and screws that were in the corners. I wasn't sure if I could make much use of these things, especially since I don't specialize in any field of engineering and such. Still, they could still be useful.
And if not? Good for distracting anything.
THUD.
There seemed to be not much in these things other than some papers. They didn't matter anymore. Not like they made sense anymore.
Thoom.
I guess there's nothing left.
THUD.
Hmm. Well, outside of the food, this escapade proved to be a bit fruitless, so to speak.
Sigh. I think I should just get going. Probably made enough noise already. Just...
Thoom.
...
THUD.
Let me check one more...
Thoom.
...
...
...
Holy shit.
In the corner of the last drawer, which was noticeably bigger than the others, behind some papers and some pens, my eyes gazed on something so precious and yet, so terrifying, it both excited and shook me to the very core once I considered its uses...
In the last drawer, there was a fucking GUN.
In response, I crawled a bit towards it and slowly stretched my hand through the drawer, carefully grabbing the pistol off the wooden ends of the cabinet and drew my arm back to observe it.
Once it came back to me, I felt somewhat curious and frightened with such a thing, placing it unto my hand like if I was observing it.
Analyzing it's very parts.
...
Wow.
I mean, I've seen guns before. Some of my previous ventures had friends who used them but...
I've never pictured myself holding one. To even own one.
Let alone firing it.
And yet, that's exactly what this thing was gonna have to be used for.
Over further observation, with me starting to hold it by the handle, I see some kind of brand printed into the grip. It said: "R. Beretta."
Along the gun's barrel, some words printed up, although its time in a drawer has let a few of the letters withered. From what I could read, it spelled "U.S 9mm M9 - P.BRETT - 6590".
...
Huh.
Neat.
9mm rounds, eh? And from what I remembered, the M9 signified the model, right?
Interesting.
I remember watching and hearing about some guns' specs before everything went down. It was the type of video I'd see for a moment before mindlessly looking through the next one. Still, I can recall some of its specifications about certain ammo types, specific lettering and what they meant, the different versions...
I don't remember much of what any of those models meant but at least there are variations. For now, though, let's hope this is a good one.
As I gripped its handle with my right hand, I was reminded that there are only a limited amount of bullets in this thing, since my experience with guns is a mixture between real-life observations and video games, and so, with my hand shaking slightly from the excitement, I placed my left hand slightly below the gun and with my right hand, find the magazine release, tapped it, and catched the magazine as it fell.
Got that tip from a guy I used to know. Real piece of work, he was.
Anyways, holding the magazine, I put the gun on the desk, barrel facing away from me, and checked how many bullets were in there. Counting the bullets as I let the cartridge out, there were approximately 10 bullets inside. Remembering that one was currently in the chamber, that made 11 bullets.
There was still some space left in the magazine since I checked that I didn't drop anything so I estimated the pistol can hold up to 15 rounds.
Not a lot but hopefully, I won't have to use it much.
Gently grabbing the pistol again, I pulled on the magazine release again and after I slid the mag right back into the pistol, I let go, letting the magazine rest inside.
Sigh. Okay. We have a gun. That's good.
But... damn. I just never thought I'd find it here of all places. I mean, weren't guns not allowed at school? Ah, whatever, this just only reaffirms my thoughts on the principal. And yet, without him, I wouldn't found this, then.
I must be one lucky guy, I guess.
Looking back into the cabinet, I managed to find a finnicky, yet very convenient plastic holder for the gun. Along with a second magazine. This one held the max of 15. Knew it.
Anyways, I slid the holster through my pants, placing it to my right and, with absolute care, placing the gun inside.
I shuffled a bit in place as to see if the holster could withstand the movement. Seeing it only rumble in place, I felt a sense of relief and sighed. This trip wasn't as bad as I thought.
Picking up my bag, I walked out of the principal's desk and, after a small survey of the room, I walked out the door.
I might not have found much food but at least I made that up with this here pistol. Hell, I could finally start doing some things that wasn't even possible before all of this.
Hunt.
Protect.
...
Hurt.
Well, that last part should never happen but... if I have to.
I admit. I still feel a little strange about this. I was never allowed to even have a gun for an extended amount of time but despite my doubts, I think after a while, I'll be get used to it-
GRRRRRRRRRRR.
With the sound of growling cutting me loose out of my tangent, I twitched, surprised by a sound so dissonant and... angry.
It took me a sec to realign my head back in front but when I did, I found myself staring down a musty, crazed raccoon, visibly disturbed by my presence and was standing right in front of the exit door.
I paused in place, shaken but not stirred as to not frighten the little guy as he looked deeply into my soul, perking up with a nasty tone and silently growling at me.
This was not good.
I was hoping not to attract anything after coming into the school ever so quietly. I guess me breaking the principal's door open was louder than I thought. Regardless, I had to maintain my distance. These guys aren't naturally so hostile. Similar to cats, they try to avoid anyone they find.
And if they do fight anything, it's probably over resources like food.
So, all I had to do was stay far from him and hopefully, it leaves. I mean, it's not like I have anything big on me. Just the gun and the...
The bags of chips.
...
Shit.
I mean, maybe it can smell the damn things. Maybe it can't. I don't know. I don't want to wait long enough to find out since the guy still is acting all defensive towards me. And I have to hurry. While the critter may not be a major threat right now, I know that where there's one...
pit. pat.
pit. pat.
GRRRRRRRRRRR...
GRRRRRRRRRRR...
SNARL!
HISS!
There's a whole lot more coming right behind him.
I watched as the number of raccoons grew ever so incrementally.
One grew into two.
Then three.
Then five.
Eight.
Twelve.
Fifteen.
By this point, I couldn't keep preoccupying myself with their troop size as every single one of them were eying the many parts of my bag and me.
How are there so many of them? Are they all a part of a group or something? Were they really that close? Was the door really that loud? Or they're all just here to fuck with me?
Whatever the case, the arrival of more critters only made things worse for me. There was now barely a visible way out. The raccoons slithered through the front doors and started to cover the windows around me, blocking out some sun and gradually making the room darker as they swarmed the place around me, getting closer.
As the critters continued crawling towards me, I equipped my crowbar, gripped both my hands on it, and eventually, several got close enough to-
SCREECH!
Immediately, I started swinging on them in every direction, propelling several of them back into the swarm and scaring many more. However, a few found their way to me as they hopped on behind me, swiftly grasping at my bag and gnawing at it's cotton exterior. In between swings, I began to shake myself, trying to get them off my back. However, these rodents managed to hang on and swiftly responded as one sneakily reached up to my neck and, without any warning, bit me, piercing my skin.
I, restraining myself from screaming, squirmed a bit before, in a fit of anger, quickly grabbed the raccoon, which in turn, also bit my hand, and flung it into the end of the room. It hissed at me, joining its brethren as they preyed ever closer towards me.
A few more hanged onto my bag and as I attempted to shuffle in place once more, with only a couple more losing their grip and sent flying to the other corners of the corridor. One still remained, though, seemingly hanging on for dear life.
Or to take mine's.
As I realized that I had no other choice, I booked it towards the principal's room behind me and slammed the door behind me. As I locked the door behind me, the remaining raccoon propped out of my bag's back and began clawing me as it landed on my head, burrowing deep into my brown hair, barely scraping my scalp. After swiping it away with my hand, I tried to hit it with the crowbar but it quickly moved out the way, making me dent the floor beneath me.
Damn it.
I swung again as he climbed up the edges of the principal's desk but the critter was just too damn fast. I ended up hitting the wood of the desk, cracking a hole into one of the cabinets. At the same time, I also got the crowbar stuck inside the desk, requiring me to use all of my strength to open it.
But I didn't have time. I could hear them.
Scratching.
Screaming.
Yelling.
They wanted to get in.
They wanted the food. And they were going to get it.
With me either dead or alive.
...
Fuck.
As I panned back from the growling of the raccoons on the other side of the door, I could see the one inside scurrying around the place, pacing by gaps of the floor and transferring between shelf to shelf.
It was just too fast for me to catch it.
FUCK.
Eventually, the critter crawled onto the middle of the desk, hissing at me with such an annoying pitch before trying to attack me, which sent him to the back of the room as I quickly threw him back, angering him even more.
At that moment, I just... couldn't. I was just so fucking pissed.
Scarred, bit, bleeding... I could barely stand for all of it. And it'd be even worse if my heart wasn't on overtime.
THIS NEEDED TO END.
The rodent, feeling all so cocky and proud, got back up to the front of the desk, hissing at me even louder as it prepared to strike me again.
IT'S FUCKING TAUNTING ME.
LIKE IT COULD.
And then, after a shitshow of running, tripping, screaming, and cussing, it finally...
Paused.
And without hesitation-
BANG!
...
...
...
..
.
SHIT.
As the loud and bombastic sound of gunfire violently rang in my ears, slowly fading after what seemed like hours, I gradually began to realize what I had just done. And as I did, slowly drawing my arm back down, I could see the glass window behind the desk slowly crackling from the hole I had just made, reaching up to its ends. The barrier didn't shatter but it very well could now.
What was once mocking me as it ran around the room and sat on top of the desk was now static, laid down motionless at the end of the desk, bleeding red. The force of the bullet punted its body backwards, leaving it facing the ceiling, twisting slightly to the side. By the time I reached close enough to inspect, the sliver of life it could've had in its eyes was long gone. Small portions of its brain splattered across the desk behind it. Its forehead was now replaced with a large puncture left behind by a bullet. A bullet that I fired.
...
Shit. I hoped that wouldn't happen. I may have fired a gun before but... Never on anything living.
...
...
Well... 10 bullets left, I guess.
But I wish I didn't.
When I shot the raccoon, the other raccoons on the other side of the door, which were all hissing, screaming at me, as well as clawing on the door, suddenly became silent, frightened and stirred by the booming noise.
They must've picked up the stench of blood already as within a half of a minute's time, they were already back to their screaming, seemingly more pissed and furious as if they could recognize their brother's death.
Coming back to my senses, I slowly shifted to the end of the room, carefully avoiding the new corpse I made. Putting the gun back into its holster, I reached into my right pocket and out came the baseball I stored inside. Taking a few steps back, I exhaled and with the inhale, I threw my right arm back and, with all of my might, lunged the baseball through the glass, shattering the barrier into pieces. As the glass shards fell onto the ground, the violent sounds the critters emitted only grew louder, and by then, I could see the little things reaching their grubby little hands through the gap beneath the door.
I had very little time left.
Still feeling the adrenaline coursing through my veins, I swiftly grabbed the handle of the crowbar with my two hands and, with a rage, pulled back on it, successfully bringing it out as I chipped off a piece of wood from the desk.
As I put back my crowbar to its place, I began bolting for the window, stretching my left leg across the sharp fragments of glass that remained but when I looked back, I realized that there was still a decision to be made.
Despite it being such a trivial and strange matter to consider, the dead raccoon is objectively now food. Leaving it here seemed like a waste. And as I look back onto the creature's void eyes, pale fur, and seemingly cold tone, I silently argued with myself about bringing it with me.
It felt wrong, didn't it? I've killed animals before but it was never like this. I haven't had to deal with them fighting back. So, it felt natural to use them as food. But now, I've fought and drew blood and now...
I have to live with it.
...
...
SNARL!
...
Well... I guess we gotta take it.
God damn it. And God forgive me. Again.
I gripped on the raccoon's body, which felt as furry and as cold as you'd expect from a rapidly decaying corpse like this, held it up to my shoulder with my left hand, and slowly, began to mount over the broken window. Carefully, I traversed through the window and as my feet touched the concrete ground, I stepped on some of the glass that fell, shattering the pieces even more.
I rushed out, heading through the parking lot, which was riddled with several rusty and dusty cars that limped towards the ground. As I ran through every car, sliding past them to get further and further away, I could notice that the sounds of the raccoons began to die down, possibly due to distance or tone. Regardless, I remained ever so vigilant and thinking that they must've realized that I was no longer in the room, I continued onwards, making me way through and heading straight for the woodlands behind it.
By the time I entered the edges of the forest, the critter's stench became even more unbearable once I calmed down. While blood isn't the worst smelling thing out there, it's the thought about it trickling down the body and spreading across mine that revolts me. Makes it all the more painful to walk with it.
I'm sorry, you little shit. But you got what you deserved.
Walking beside the road, I briefly observed more of the rusting cars of yesterday, painted in diluted shades of red, blue, yellow, purple, and white. With this scenery, I began to almost picture how these cars were like before all of this.
I used to see a lot of these cars pass me by in the street when I walked by home, zooming by and with people, heading to some place for some purpose in some... ridiculous manner.
I never imagined myself ever driving one of those things, which may seem strange to some. But it's true. It's one thing to ride a bike. It's another whole situation with a car. Because well, I'd feel somewhat forced into becoming responsible for anything I could've let happen on that thing.
Thankfully, I may never have to drive one. But I don't know. Sometimes, I get curious to try. It's just too bad that all of these broke down and/or got stripped for parts.
Anyways, as I traversed through a trench between a black and a white car, I landed safely into the depths of the trees and as I slowly climbed up with the creature's body intact, I could begin to see the edges of houses and buildings on the end of the horizon, only masked and blocked by the green scenery in front of me.
The day still dawned on me but I could see that the sun was further away, getting closer to the edge of the horizon. I needed to hurry. Nightfall was approaching
Sigh.
Time to walk.