Outside the Illness

November 23, 2011

I don’t know how much longer I can do this. I hate being alone.

I had to kill three today.

I was sure the street was empty before I opened the door this morning, but as I turned around to lock up I saw one of them standing in the yard next door. He was completely naked and holding the rotting remains of a squirrel, bits of its fur still clinging to his lips. As soon as he saw me, he immediately turned and began running in the other direction. This is the first time that this has happened, and I was surprised that he was fearful of me. I pulled the pistol out of my waistband and slowly began to head in his direction, curious as to where he would go.

He ducked around the corner and behind the house, so I broke into a jog in order to keep up. I didn’t want him to know I was following, so I was trying to give him some distance in case he looked back.

I reached the corner of the house, and peeked around just in time to see him head behind a house across the street, not looking back once. I began running in that direction. I had just about reached the yard when I heard a confusing series of yells that resembled no form of speech that I had ever heard. I froze dead in my tracks.

Seconds later he came running back out from around the corner, straight towards me, accompanied by two more of them, both female and both just as naked as he was. I immediately began firing at him and he dropped after a few shots. The other two did not hesitate for a moment and neither did I. I’m not sure how many shots it was later that one of the females fell. I do know that five shots went into the third, but she continued in my direction, seemingly unphased by pain or the condition of the other two. After that, I was pulling the trigger on an empty clip.

I dropped the nine and fumbled for the rifle hanging from my shoulder, but had barely gotten it past my arm when the third fell to the ground without another shot. All three were still moaning and lying in the boiling pools of their blood.

I took a few minutes to gather myself and let the adrenalin rush pass. I then pulled the hatchet loose from its belt loop and proceeded with the dismemberment, disappointed that this was to be the start of what looked to be a bright Wednesday.

That done I broke into the house, to check for supplies. This house had been better stocked then mine, and I filled my bag with all the cans it could carry (many of them beans, thankfully).

That done, I headed back to my place. I didn’t have the stomach for any more adventures, so I spent the day reading. I’m halfway through Making History by Stephen Fry now.



I wish I had a time machine.

See this

CT