If you missed out on the first part of this story, you can read it here . And now the story continues.
Night began to appear faster than he had hoped. While he made his way through the wreckage, he knew finding shelter was crucial — they would be out soon. Through broken glass, human remains continued to decay, making the soil their final home. Many would vomit at the smell of such a stench. Instead, he wore it like cologne.
Most doors of the outlining buildings had been boarded up long ago. Breaking down the boards at night was too laborious and no doubt would catch the attention of the enemy. His frustration caused him to growl like a dog. He scanned his surroundings in search of refuge for the evening. Hunger pains continued, making his stomach grumble once again. Soon, he reminded himself. Just then, the enemy let out a battle cry, sounding somewhere between mechanical and the undead.
With nothing to hide behind, he quickened his pace knowing all he could do was move. Even though he was among what were once considered busy streets, he felt naked, exposed and trying to protect his life as though it was the reaper after him. Now in a light jog, he could feel the enemy’s resounding steps. Panic emerged similar to that of a lost child. He stopped mid step, almost losing his balance. Was that an open window or did his eyes deceive him? Glad to find something, he made his way closer to the building.
Hesitation surface after seeing the height of the window. If he did not jump at the correct time the enemy would sure claim another life. The crunch of metal was closer, and he could see trails of steam to his left. He had but once chance to claim shelter. With that, he backed away from the building to make way for more speed.
He tightened the straps of his backpack in anticipation of a hard landing. After taking in a few deep breaths, he began his sprint. One foot in front of another, he kept his eyes fixed on the window. He let out a grunt as he leapt toward the window. His fingertips clenched the frame as he dug his toes as best he could against the wall. Using the last bit of his exertion, he pulled himself up through the window before crashing on his back against the concrete floor. Lying on his back, he let out a chuckle, happy to be alive for another moment.
“Shh! You’ll give our location up,” came the warning of a woman.
His eyes opened wide. For so long he had accepted he was the soul survivor of the enemy’s first attack. He had so many questions for her. How did she survive? Were there others? Did she have a can opener? Another mechanical screech emerged. The piercing sound made them cover their ears. The enemy was too close. Words would have to wait.
Until next post,
Photo credit: Antonio de Chiara http://www.freeimages.com/photo/trash-1571775