Aster Sapphire
Elder Member
It’s always been easy to tell when something has gone wrong in Manhattan. The atmosphere was only this quiet and still when something awful had happened, or was currently happening. In this case, it’s both. As annoying as all the noise and chaos was, I have to admit, it’s quite bizarre; walking these streets and hearing nothing but the sound of your own lonely footsteps. Manhattan and quiet just don’t mix. Silence was something the city rarely welcomed, and on the rare occasions when it did, it never stayed for this long nor was it this deafening. There isn’t the idle chatter used to go on between the old woman and the flower vender. There isn’t the sound of tires squealing on the asphalt or the symphony of a few dozen horns honking. The obnoxious clacking of the business women’s fancy, high heeled shoes on the sidewalk while they chattered gibberish into their smartphones.
Just a few days ago New York was playing its favorite song loud and proud. But now…
Nothing.
Only a few buildings still stand; trying to touch a cloudless, gray sky. Plenty of their windows broken in and chunks of it missing here and there. Everything was still. There wasn’t even any wind. It was as if the world had come to a silent halt to mourn the passing of the once oh so great, Manhattan.
I never thought I’d find myself missing the New York of yesterday. The streets hadn’t really been much of a life that I cherished. But at least then I was only living the life I did for the thrill of it and because I was stupid. Now I loot shops hide in sewers because my life depended on it. I suppose that the time comes in everyone’s life when they get the whole, “You never know how much you had till it’s gone,” feeling.
Well I have it now and man does it suck. All I have to say is screw you too Post-apocalyptic New York.
Dust and ash from the debris of the destroyed buildings still linger in the air like a heavy fog. The first wave had been enough to take out a good two thirds of the city. No one had expected it. Banks. Pubs. Gas Stations. Malls. All gone. It was nothing like how you see in the movies. Will Smith didn’t show up and save the day people were slaughtered on spot.
I stop in front of one building that didn´t get too much damage. It used to be an old corner store. A good portion of the building is destroyed from a partially collapsed ceiling. The doors are gone, but there’s a small opening between a slab of concrete that was slanted against the building.
I´m alone as far as I can see. Squinting into the fog, I make sure that no one´s following me. The last thing I need is competition. This may a longshot, but it´s my longshot.
Not wasting another moment, I swiftly make my way over to entrance, narrowly avoiding discarded scrap metal from cars. I reach the entrance and squeeze in through a small hole between a part of the ceiling that had fallen against the wall. I allow myself a small smile when I’m able to squeeze through the hole with no problems. Spending the past couple years living off nothing but whatever my sticky little fingers managed to nab from corner stores turned out to have its benefits after all.
Whoopdee-doo.
Street rat: 1
Post Alien invasion Manhattan: who the heck is counting anymore?
The second I step inside, I gag and put my face back to the hole. It’s worse than the air outside. The scent is blood is heavy and dust is floating around everywhere. I tie the bandanna tighter around my nose and mouth as I force myself further into the store. I frown when l see that not too much is left of it. A single shelf is still intact, the rest of the store sealed off by fallen debris.
One way in. One way out.
A couple of the lights are still flickering, although very dimly. There isn´t much on the shelves. Just a couple loaves of bread here and there, some bags of chips scattered about and some spam on the highest shelf. Lots and lots of Spam.
I unshoulder my backpack and quickly unzip it as I make my way over to a shelf. Steadily, but hastily. With a single swipe I gather all the food in sight and start shoving it into my bag… at least the stuff I can find that aren´t expired.
I´m pretty sure that I´ve picked the place by now, and even if I haven´t I should be leaving soon anyway. Nighttime will be rolling around soon and I don´t want to be around when the marches start.
I´m heading for the exit when something catches my eye. A pair of unmoving legs sticks out from behind the counter of the store. A thick layer of dust covers the register and the shelves behind it, which are completely bare.
Way to go humanity. Loot all the cigarettes and booze before you ever take the left over food. No wonder the stupid aliens took us out in just one wave. At least they left behind a couple matches and some lighters. I make sure to take those too.
I follow the glint and find it´s coming from behind the counter. I carefully peek over to get a better…and immediately wish that I hadn´t.
A man, probably in his 70´s lies on the floor dead, with a hunting knife still clutched in one of hands. He had at least landed a blow before he died. The blade was stained with a thin layer of the dark, greenish sludge those things have for blood. His face was frozen in a look of determination. His mouth still turned downward in a twisted scowl and his eyes open, intense and full of rage. There is a gaping hole where a heart used to be. I recognized his face, even as the lifeless scorn it was now. It used to be a content face that was full of life and had never been touched by hate.
It would be the first thing I saw when I came in and the only thing I could see for hours after I’d done my business and left. He’d seen me take everything, but never said a word. Not one time.
I could almost call him a friend. I suppose he was the closest thing I had to one at the time. The closest I’ve ever had to a friend really.
I look down at him reluctantly but I’ve made my decision in a matter of seconds. I close his eyes before I stand slowly and head towards the entrance again.
Once again, I’m almost out when I stop again. This time, because I hear shuffling behind me. I spin, clutching the small blade in my hand as I continue to back away, looking around the store for the source of the noise. I was sure I had been alone when I came here earlier. I hear the noise again, this time from the darker corner of the store where the thin rays of sunlight don’t reach and the old, dim lights don’t flicker. Maybe it’s just my imagination. I’ve been wandering around this place for too long and now I’m making up noises in my heads to drown out the silence.
That’s what I’d like to believe.
I hear another shuffle behind me and turn to sprint out when a sound stops me in tracks. Right at the exit of the shop, crouching down and preparing to leave I freeze. It was a voice.
An actual voice. Not one of the ones I’d made up in my head but a real voice.
I slowly turn on my heel, still crouching down, and look in the direction it came from. I have to squint my eyes to be able to make out small, shadowy figure that lingers in the back of the store.
The voice barely speaks above a whisper. It’s weak and shaky. Broken and afraid. And the worst part, it belongs to a child. She can’t be more than 8 years old and there’s no telling how long she’d been stuck here. She takes a few careful steps into the flickering lights so I can see her. She has bloodstains on her clothes but there’s not a scratch on her. Her clothing is a variety of random, neon colors and her head is downturned. She clutches a small rod to her chest that connects to her wrist by a leather strap. Dirt and grime covers parts of her smooth, dark brown skin. Trembling, she lifts her head upwards slowly until she is looking directly at me with milky white orbs.
She takes a few steps closer in my direction. “My name is Liberty. I’m six,” She says in a small voice. “What’s your name?”
My mouth is dry for a few moments and leaves me unable to speak. This could be some kind of trap. The old, “use a helpless, little child to draw in a victim and rob him blind” trick. I’ve been on both sides of that scenario and know how this thing works. I look around me for anyone else. Someone that’s pulling the strings and waiting for me to dance.
She shuffles closer and I don’t answer. “Are you all alone too?”
I don’t respond again. But this time it’s because of something else. The hair stands up on the back of my neck and I feel my blood run cold as my feet freeze in place.
They’re coming.
I slap myself on the forehead out of frustration and then freeze again, afraid that they may have heard me. Why are they here? They usually don’t do their sweeps until nightfall. This wasn’t right…
I hear the light hum of an engine as they draw closer, speaking to each other in that weird sounding language of theirs. It doesn’t even sound as if they’re saying actual words. They communicate in these deep, guttural growls that don’t like no animal I’ve ever heard.
Liberty’s tiny body tenses with fear and she freezes. “A-are the co-
I clamp a hand over her mouth and drag her to the only secure hiding place, behind the counter. I crouch down with her next to the body; the hand have I over her mouth is now damp with her tears. She trembles like a leaf as she uses her free hand grasp my arm tightly. Her frightened whimpers escape from my palm and outside I hear them freeze. They’re probably a good ten feet away from us. They exchange some words quitter this time as their engines fall silent.
I clamp my hand tighter around her mouth, lean in close her to ear and hiss in the quietest voice I can manage, “Be. Quiet. They won’t find us if they can’t hear us.”
She swallows and nods. Her whimpers slowly fade into shallow breathing. She clenches her eyes shut and presses herself tighter against me. Everything suddenly goes silent. Us. Them. That eerie stillness creeps its way back into the store as everything suddenly goes mute. For a few seconds, that’s all there is. No sounds. No movement. Nothing. My eyes dart to the man on the floor and I glance at the knife in his hands. I cringe as I reach for knife, my hand brushes up against his own much colder one as I pry the knife from his palm. A shudder goes down my spine as I struggle to pull the knife from his stubborn dead hands. When I finally manage to get it free, I grip the handle tightly, giving him a silent apology with my eyes.
I wait a few more minutes before I remove my had from Liberty’s mouth. She releases a long heavy breath and looks up at me. I peer down into her eyes and see pain on her face. My eyes go to the arm I have around her waist and I realize I’d been squeezing her. Tightly. Sometime in between they’re arrival and the sudden silence of death, I’d snaked my arm around her small form and began to squeeze her out of fear.
I swallow the lump in my throat and blink stupidly as I remove my arm from her waist. “Sorry,” I mumble, looking down at the ground. I realize that her shoes are gone, a thick layer of ash coats her bare feet.
“Are they gone?” Her voice is a barely audible whisper.
I try to listen out for them but am only able to hear the blood roaring in my ears and my heart thumping loudly and rapidly in my chest. “I…I think s-
BAM!
We both jump at the thunderous sound something collapsing. The impact is enough to shake the small convenience store and send small pieces of rubble and dust trickling down from the ceiling and onto our heads. The sound comes from the building next to us.
A yelp always escapes me but a hand suddenly covers my mouth. Not my own, but Liberty’s. Her small palm is pressed against my lips with as much strength as she can manage. Her other hand is pressed against her own mouth. She struggles to remain stiff as she stands before me. She draws closer, shifting so her arm is around my neck but her hand is still on my mouth. I stare back at her, stunned. Her expression is unreadable. Her ivory eyes wide and her lips drawn into a thin white line. A tear slips from her eyes and goes down her cheek, cleaning a thin line of dirt away from her face.
CRASH!
The building beside us creaks and moans as more of it is destroyed. Liberty jumps again and removes her hand from my mouth so that she can place on top the one she’s muffling herself with.
A huff escapes me and I snap back to reality with a shake of my head.
SNAP!
The building next to us suffers another blow as they continue their rampage, searching for blood. More debris falls, some of it getting into my eyes and blurring my vision. I blink the dust away and I look up, protecting my eyes with my hands at the ceiling.
THUD!
I watch as a thin crack forms along the ceiling. A thin one, but a crack nonetheless. At this point if it’s not them that kills us it’ll be the building. Another crash sounds from the building over, accompanied by a frustrated roar so loud it makes my ears ring. They were getting impatient. Their prowl for blood proving to be unsuccessful…until they came over here.
Think. Think.
I remember of the door that leads to the alley out back. But then I remember.
One way in. One way out. Sure enough the path and exit is blocked by debris.
I almost punch the wall in frustration.
We freeze again when he hear their voices right outside the store. I press myself to the ground from any openings and pull Liberty down with me, making her flat on her stomach next to me.
From where I am laying, a see the smallest crack in the bottom of the wall. Just big enough for a mouse to fit through. I keep silent as an enormous foot suddenly appears, occupying all the space in the hole. I find myself staring at slick green skin that covered a giant three-toed foot. The nails are thick and cracked at the edges. They were a sickly shade of yellow and black that reminded me a bruised banana. The foot stumbled backwards a bit and one it belonged to released an aggravated huff. There’s the sound of arguing and even a scuffle that results in one of them dropping their guns right by the hole.
There’s a whine as a hand reaches down to pick up the gun.
Keeping Liberty pressed against me, I scoot away from the hole a bit as the hand reaches down. Fingers that are just as ugly as the toes brush the gun’s surface and then pause briefly. They hover the weapon for a moment as they contemplate. I feel deadly eyes piercing the wall with a death glare as they ponder whether or not they should come in.
After a few agonizing seconds they finally pick up the gun. The feet move and I hear the light hum engines again. I watch through the holes as the two of them mount onto their vehicles and zoom off. I wait until I can’t see them any more to let go of Liberty and roll onto my back. I unleash the huff of all huffs that would give the Big Bad Wolf himself a run for his money. I’m completely still.
“Holy crap that close.” My thoughts manage to slip past my lips as I pull myself to my feet.
As if standing on a frozen lake, I slowly stand up. However, I don’t bring Liberty with me. Her arms fall from around my me when I stand and she peers up at me. Despite her not being able to see my face, she looks directly at it, her eyes staring into my own. She doesn’t say anything. She just sits there, with her knees hugged closely to her chest and her toes curled tightly inward. She waits for me to make my choice.
I think….and I think…and I think…and finally…
I bend down next to her again and place my pack on her shoulders before I take her hands in either of mine to pull her arms around my shoulders and lift her onto my back. She’s a surprised at first, a small gasp escapes her. But then she grips me tightly. Wrapping her legs around my waist securely and holding on to my neck. She presses her face deep into my shoulder and the coiled locks of her hair that stick straight up, tickle the side of my face.
She’s light. Not light in the way kids usually are but frail, weak. I almost ask how she managed to go hungry in here when I remember everything I found was on the top shelf, which she probably wasn’t able to reach. If we ever get out, the first thing I do is feed her.
“Thank you,” She mumbles into my shoulder.
“Thank me when we’re in the clear.”
I’m glad I at least still have my charm after all this craziness. I walk towards the exit with her, slipping through the crack in the wall first. She’s weary when I tell her to let me go first, believing that I may abandon her.
“I just wanna make sure it’s safe,” I reassure her. She nods and waits as I scan the empty streets. The sky is starting to get darker and the temperature is dropping. I need to get going. If that’s a bad a random day time inspection is, I don’t want to stick around for what happens at night.
When looking around, I realize I have another chance; a chance to run and never look back.
I know exactly what I should do. There’s a part of me saying to not even bother. To end things for her now. She’d be better off dying here quickly, then she would dying slowly with me. I don’t have the supplies to support both of us. I can barely support myself. I won’t be able to bring her along on supply runs and she’d be to vulnerable all alone back in that rat hole I call a home now. I won’t be able to take her in and protect her. I have to survive. I have myself to lookout for. It’s always been like that. I don’t know who this girl is. I have no reason to care for her or what happens to her. I look back at the store and she’s waiting for me, her small brown hand sticking through hole, waiting for me.
I reach back through the crevice and grasp Liberty’s arm to pull her through. I set her on my back. Too many rocks and glass cover the grouns for me to let her walk around. I shift her weight on me and lock my arms under her legs to secure her even more.
“You never told me your name,” She says tightening her grip on me.
I hesitate before answering. “…Chloe.”
She repeats the name to herself and nods after I’ve walked a few blocks she she’s drifted off to sleep. I shift her weight around a little so she’s comfortable.
From what I’ve experienced, survival is about being quick and about making the right decisions…I’m only half way to being a true survivor.
Because in a matter of only two seconds, I make the wrong choice.
Just a few days ago New York was playing its favorite song loud and proud. But now…
Nothing.
Only a few buildings still stand; trying to touch a cloudless, gray sky. Plenty of their windows broken in and chunks of it missing here and there. Everything was still. There wasn’t even any wind. It was as if the world had come to a silent halt to mourn the passing of the once oh so great, Manhattan.
I never thought I’d find myself missing the New York of yesterday. The streets hadn’t really been much of a life that I cherished. But at least then I was only living the life I did for the thrill of it and because I was stupid. Now I loot shops hide in sewers because my life depended on it. I suppose that the time comes in everyone’s life when they get the whole, “You never know how much you had till it’s gone,” feeling.
Well I have it now and man does it suck. All I have to say is screw you too Post-apocalyptic New York.
Dust and ash from the debris of the destroyed buildings still linger in the air like a heavy fog. The first wave had been enough to take out a good two thirds of the city. No one had expected it. Banks. Pubs. Gas Stations. Malls. All gone. It was nothing like how you see in the movies. Will Smith didn’t show up and save the day people were slaughtered on spot.
I stop in front of one building that didn´t get too much damage. It used to be an old corner store. A good portion of the building is destroyed from a partially collapsed ceiling. The doors are gone, but there’s a small opening between a slab of concrete that was slanted against the building.
I´m alone as far as I can see. Squinting into the fog, I make sure that no one´s following me. The last thing I need is competition. This may a longshot, but it´s my longshot.
Not wasting another moment, I swiftly make my way over to entrance, narrowly avoiding discarded scrap metal from cars. I reach the entrance and squeeze in through a small hole between a part of the ceiling that had fallen against the wall. I allow myself a small smile when I’m able to squeeze through the hole with no problems. Spending the past couple years living off nothing but whatever my sticky little fingers managed to nab from corner stores turned out to have its benefits after all.
Whoopdee-doo.
Street rat: 1
Post Alien invasion Manhattan: who the heck is counting anymore?
The second I step inside, I gag and put my face back to the hole. It’s worse than the air outside. The scent is blood is heavy and dust is floating around everywhere. I tie the bandanna tighter around my nose and mouth as I force myself further into the store. I frown when l see that not too much is left of it. A single shelf is still intact, the rest of the store sealed off by fallen debris.
One way in. One way out.
A couple of the lights are still flickering, although very dimly. There isn´t much on the shelves. Just a couple loaves of bread here and there, some bags of chips scattered about and some spam on the highest shelf. Lots and lots of Spam.
I unshoulder my backpack and quickly unzip it as I make my way over to a shelf. Steadily, but hastily. With a single swipe I gather all the food in sight and start shoving it into my bag… at least the stuff I can find that aren´t expired.
I´m pretty sure that I´ve picked the place by now, and even if I haven´t I should be leaving soon anyway. Nighttime will be rolling around soon and I don´t want to be around when the marches start.
I´m heading for the exit when something catches my eye. A pair of unmoving legs sticks out from behind the counter of the store. A thick layer of dust covers the register and the shelves behind it, which are completely bare.
Way to go humanity. Loot all the cigarettes and booze before you ever take the left over food. No wonder the stupid aliens took us out in just one wave. At least they left behind a couple matches and some lighters. I make sure to take those too.
I follow the glint and find it´s coming from behind the counter. I carefully peek over to get a better…and immediately wish that I hadn´t.
A man, probably in his 70´s lies on the floor dead, with a hunting knife still clutched in one of hands. He had at least landed a blow before he died. The blade was stained with a thin layer of the dark, greenish sludge those things have for blood. His face was frozen in a look of determination. His mouth still turned downward in a twisted scowl and his eyes open, intense and full of rage. There is a gaping hole where a heart used to be. I recognized his face, even as the lifeless scorn it was now. It used to be a content face that was full of life and had never been touched by hate.
It would be the first thing I saw when I came in and the only thing I could see for hours after I’d done my business and left. He’d seen me take everything, but never said a word. Not one time.
I could almost call him a friend. I suppose he was the closest thing I had to one at the time. The closest I’ve ever had to a friend really.
I look down at him reluctantly but I’ve made my decision in a matter of seconds. I close his eyes before I stand slowly and head towards the entrance again.
Once again, I’m almost out when I stop again. This time, because I hear shuffling behind me. I spin, clutching the small blade in my hand as I continue to back away, looking around the store for the source of the noise. I was sure I had been alone when I came here earlier. I hear the noise again, this time from the darker corner of the store where the thin rays of sunlight don’t reach and the old, dim lights don’t flicker. Maybe it’s just my imagination. I’ve been wandering around this place for too long and now I’m making up noises in my heads to drown out the silence.
That’s what I’d like to believe.
I hear another shuffle behind me and turn to sprint out when a sound stops me in tracks. Right at the exit of the shop, crouching down and preparing to leave I freeze. It was a voice.
An actual voice. Not one of the ones I’d made up in my head but a real voice.
I slowly turn on my heel, still crouching down, and look in the direction it came from. I have to squint my eyes to be able to make out small, shadowy figure that lingers in the back of the store.
The voice barely speaks above a whisper. It’s weak and shaky. Broken and afraid. And the worst part, it belongs to a child. She can’t be more than 8 years old and there’s no telling how long she’d been stuck here. She takes a few careful steps into the flickering lights so I can see her. She has bloodstains on her clothes but there’s not a scratch on her. Her clothing is a variety of random, neon colors and her head is downturned. She clutches a small rod to her chest that connects to her wrist by a leather strap. Dirt and grime covers parts of her smooth, dark brown skin. Trembling, she lifts her head upwards slowly until she is looking directly at me with milky white orbs.
She takes a few steps closer in my direction. “My name is Liberty. I’m six,” She says in a small voice. “What’s your name?”
My mouth is dry for a few moments and leaves me unable to speak. This could be some kind of trap. The old, “use a helpless, little child to draw in a victim and rob him blind” trick. I’ve been on both sides of that scenario and know how this thing works. I look around me for anyone else. Someone that’s pulling the strings and waiting for me to dance.
She shuffles closer and I don’t answer. “Are you all alone too?”
I don’t respond again. But this time it’s because of something else. The hair stands up on the back of my neck and I feel my blood run cold as my feet freeze in place.
They’re coming.
I slap myself on the forehead out of frustration and then freeze again, afraid that they may have heard me. Why are they here? They usually don’t do their sweeps until nightfall. This wasn’t right…
I hear the light hum of an engine as they draw closer, speaking to each other in that weird sounding language of theirs. It doesn’t even sound as if they’re saying actual words. They communicate in these deep, guttural growls that don’t like no animal I’ve ever heard.
Liberty’s tiny body tenses with fear and she freezes. “A-are the co-
I clamp a hand over her mouth and drag her to the only secure hiding place, behind the counter. I crouch down with her next to the body; the hand have I over her mouth is now damp with her tears. She trembles like a leaf as she uses her free hand grasp my arm tightly. Her frightened whimpers escape from my palm and outside I hear them freeze. They’re probably a good ten feet away from us. They exchange some words quitter this time as their engines fall silent.
I clamp my hand tighter around her mouth, lean in close her to ear and hiss in the quietest voice I can manage, “Be. Quiet. They won’t find us if they can’t hear us.”
She swallows and nods. Her whimpers slowly fade into shallow breathing. She clenches her eyes shut and presses herself tighter against me. Everything suddenly goes silent. Us. Them. That eerie stillness creeps its way back into the store as everything suddenly goes mute. For a few seconds, that’s all there is. No sounds. No movement. Nothing. My eyes dart to the man on the floor and I glance at the knife in his hands. I cringe as I reach for knife, my hand brushes up against his own much colder one as I pry the knife from his palm. A shudder goes down my spine as I struggle to pull the knife from his stubborn dead hands. When I finally manage to get it free, I grip the handle tightly, giving him a silent apology with my eyes.
I wait a few more minutes before I remove my had from Liberty’s mouth. She releases a long heavy breath and looks up at me. I peer down into her eyes and see pain on her face. My eyes go to the arm I have around her waist and I realize I’d been squeezing her. Tightly. Sometime in between they’re arrival and the sudden silence of death, I’d snaked my arm around her small form and began to squeeze her out of fear.
I swallow the lump in my throat and blink stupidly as I remove my arm from her waist. “Sorry,” I mumble, looking down at the ground. I realize that her shoes are gone, a thick layer of ash coats her bare feet.
“Are they gone?” Her voice is a barely audible whisper.
I try to listen out for them but am only able to hear the blood roaring in my ears and my heart thumping loudly and rapidly in my chest. “I…I think s-
BAM!
We both jump at the thunderous sound something collapsing. The impact is enough to shake the small convenience store and send small pieces of rubble and dust trickling down from the ceiling and onto our heads. The sound comes from the building next to us.
A yelp always escapes me but a hand suddenly covers my mouth. Not my own, but Liberty’s. Her small palm is pressed against my lips with as much strength as she can manage. Her other hand is pressed against her own mouth. She struggles to remain stiff as she stands before me. She draws closer, shifting so her arm is around my neck but her hand is still on my mouth. I stare back at her, stunned. Her expression is unreadable. Her ivory eyes wide and her lips drawn into a thin white line. A tear slips from her eyes and goes down her cheek, cleaning a thin line of dirt away from her face.
CRASH!
The building beside us creaks and moans as more of it is destroyed. Liberty jumps again and removes her hand from my mouth so that she can place on top the one she’s muffling herself with.
A huff escapes me and I snap back to reality with a shake of my head.
SNAP!
The building next to us suffers another blow as they continue their rampage, searching for blood. More debris falls, some of it getting into my eyes and blurring my vision. I blink the dust away and I look up, protecting my eyes with my hands at the ceiling.
THUD!
I watch as a thin crack forms along the ceiling. A thin one, but a crack nonetheless. At this point if it’s not them that kills us it’ll be the building. Another crash sounds from the building over, accompanied by a frustrated roar so loud it makes my ears ring. They were getting impatient. Their prowl for blood proving to be unsuccessful…until they came over here.
Think. Think.
I remember of the door that leads to the alley out back. But then I remember.
One way in. One way out. Sure enough the path and exit is blocked by debris.
I almost punch the wall in frustration.
We freeze again when he hear their voices right outside the store. I press myself to the ground from any openings and pull Liberty down with me, making her flat on her stomach next to me.
From where I am laying, a see the smallest crack in the bottom of the wall. Just big enough for a mouse to fit through. I keep silent as an enormous foot suddenly appears, occupying all the space in the hole. I find myself staring at slick green skin that covered a giant three-toed foot. The nails are thick and cracked at the edges. They were a sickly shade of yellow and black that reminded me a bruised banana. The foot stumbled backwards a bit and one it belonged to released an aggravated huff. There’s the sound of arguing and even a scuffle that results in one of them dropping their guns right by the hole.
There’s a whine as a hand reaches down to pick up the gun.
Keeping Liberty pressed against me, I scoot away from the hole a bit as the hand reaches down. Fingers that are just as ugly as the toes brush the gun’s surface and then pause briefly. They hover the weapon for a moment as they contemplate. I feel deadly eyes piercing the wall with a death glare as they ponder whether or not they should come in.
After a few agonizing seconds they finally pick up the gun. The feet move and I hear the light hum engines again. I watch through the holes as the two of them mount onto their vehicles and zoom off. I wait until I can’t see them any more to let go of Liberty and roll onto my back. I unleash the huff of all huffs that would give the Big Bad Wolf himself a run for his money. I’m completely still.
“Holy crap that close.” My thoughts manage to slip past my lips as I pull myself to my feet.
As if standing on a frozen lake, I slowly stand up. However, I don’t bring Liberty with me. Her arms fall from around my me when I stand and she peers up at me. Despite her not being able to see my face, she looks directly at it, her eyes staring into my own. She doesn’t say anything. She just sits there, with her knees hugged closely to her chest and her toes curled tightly inward. She waits for me to make my choice.
I think….and I think…and I think…and finally…
I bend down next to her again and place my pack on her shoulders before I take her hands in either of mine to pull her arms around my shoulders and lift her onto my back. She’s a surprised at first, a small gasp escapes her. But then she grips me tightly. Wrapping her legs around my waist securely and holding on to my neck. She presses her face deep into my shoulder and the coiled locks of her hair that stick straight up, tickle the side of my face.
She’s light. Not light in the way kids usually are but frail, weak. I almost ask how she managed to go hungry in here when I remember everything I found was on the top shelf, which she probably wasn’t able to reach. If we ever get out, the first thing I do is feed her.
“Thank you,” She mumbles into my shoulder.
“Thank me when we’re in the clear.”
I’m glad I at least still have my charm after all this craziness. I walk towards the exit with her, slipping through the crack in the wall first. She’s weary when I tell her to let me go first, believing that I may abandon her.
“I just wanna make sure it’s safe,” I reassure her. She nods and waits as I scan the empty streets. The sky is starting to get darker and the temperature is dropping. I need to get going. If that’s a bad a random day time inspection is, I don’t want to stick around for what happens at night.
When looking around, I realize I have another chance; a chance to run and never look back.
I know exactly what I should do. There’s a part of me saying to not even bother. To end things for her now. She’d be better off dying here quickly, then she would dying slowly with me. I don’t have the supplies to support both of us. I can barely support myself. I won’t be able to bring her along on supply runs and she’d be to vulnerable all alone back in that rat hole I call a home now. I won’t be able to take her in and protect her. I have to survive. I have myself to lookout for. It’s always been like that. I don’t know who this girl is. I have no reason to care for her or what happens to her. I look back at the store and she’s waiting for me, her small brown hand sticking through hole, waiting for me.
I reach back through the crevice and grasp Liberty’s arm to pull her through. I set her on my back. Too many rocks and glass cover the grouns for me to let her walk around. I shift her weight on me and lock my arms under her legs to secure her even more.
“You never told me your name,” She says tightening her grip on me.
I hesitate before answering. “…Chloe.”
She repeats the name to herself and nods after I’ve walked a few blocks she she’s drifted off to sleep. I shift her weight around a little so she’s comfortable.
From what I’ve experienced, survival is about being quick and about making the right decisions…I’m only half way to being a true survivor.
Because in a matter of only two seconds, I make the wrong choice.
