|Escape from Malton's Streets
Author: Vesley PM
Seven years of destruction sets the ruins of Malton...A journal is found from a dead survivor; can this hold the insights of what really went on in the last several years. You flip open the Journal to find the speckles of blood entitled the kids own name.Rated: Fiction T - English - Horror/Suspense - Chapters: 4 - Words: 11,427 - Reviews: 2 - Favs: 2 - Follows: 1 - Updated: 03-16-10 - Published: 08-20-09 - id: 5319028
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Epilogue…Seven Years later
-Its been several years since the original outbreak...years on the run, for the few who escaped the city, it was already too late. Years of being on the run…this being a few of your stops, Malton or what was left of the city. Staying alive was the only thing could do; after years of travel; eventually cities and towns began to come together pulling barricades, and armed by armed support. Like yourself; years of travel bodies, infected undead; and mutations of god. Those of cross species had to be watched; you never knew how they would attack / adapted. No one is how or to most of anyones knowledge is sure how it spread to get this bad; but like other dispatched teams dispersed in the city. As a scavenger / survivor split from your team searching a local Nero tech. The arched metal entrance an expanding building that stretched out in a ...The experiences from Malton is well known everywhere, as specially the quarantine seven years back, passing through the rooms; you enter a large top floor. You note the large interior of the room; as well as the previous years of bloody crusted on the floor, and a corpse holding something. About few corpse lying strobe across the tiled room; brightly lit by the illuinating open view of the dead city. Noting the previously dead corpse of a dead youth again; you make out a small leather bounded journal something that glimmers so slightly in the light, with a small near by handgun lying in the corpse remaining numbs of fingers. As well as the other tooken care of dead; a small bag with less than useful supplies you retrieve the journal as you carefully approaching the creature, you retrieve a small dairy of sort, as you flip to the earliest recorded dated more than seven years ago.
*September 29, 2005
It just me home tonight, mom and dad went out to dinner on the small strip of Malton near the Ample cinema. They insisted I come along; but I gladly rejected the thought of an evening with my parents. Kicking my feet on the sofa, I began to glue my eyes on the television. News reports of attacks in the city and the mayor, as well as his cabinet pledging to uphold the promise of no attacks in our state (disclosed and too smudged to make out). Remembering the annoying ringing of the microwave, I caught sight of my Mom with the Science division team. Here slender stance; and poised chin proud chin shaking the mayors hand. As well as the large mass of the Nero-tech logo embalm in the background, as I vastly raced to the kitchen thinking of the pop'n'corn, I found my self opening the bag noticing the burnt edges of the bag. Picking my way through the crusted pieces, as I rumedged through the edible partials of food.
Back to the living room; I found the subliminal message of the report over, and the news people closing the program. Handling the remote-control, I jumped on the late afternoon channels. With the sudden clatter of the drizzle of a rain afternoon shower pounding against the solid tin-like material of the roof structure. With the signal suddenly lost, I could only curse in disbelief trotting upstairs to the confines of my room. Deciding to try and watch some TV and write a little later tonight before bed...
Its me again; took a shower feel better after a steaming hot shower. Wrapping the towel around my waist, glancing at the en-bold red letters of 7:29. Two things I enjoyed hot showers and alone time in the house when my parents are away, but for a near three-hours. I think I'll call my parents to be sure its only a forty-five minuet drive into Malton. Not too worried this wasnt the first time; the two probably made their way to the bar on there way home, had a few drinks to my assumption. I'll worry about it later...
Its been thirty-minuets; but still nothing on the cell, and moms cell rung in my parents bedroom only a few doors down from my room. To my surprise nearly "jumped right outta my skin" when it rang that sorta mission impossible ring tone. So in all oddly kept the phone next to my bed just in case my mom or dad couldn't get through my calling.
Still nothing; and its going on nine...my parents should have got a call from them by now. Worried sick...the rain has ultimately stopped, except the few ripples of pounding against the tin roof, and I've decided to keep the house phone next to my up-stairs bed. As I try and fight the few heavy yawns of bitter sleep, needed I figured they'd had been kept in the city. (Last parchment pushes the last sentence reading...going t-bed )
*September 30, 2005
It was early mourning when, I awoke to the god awful moans in the…AM. Still no responds or calls from mom or dad, and something seems odd they would've called or left a message by now. Skimming through the call list in the annoying voice state, "no...new messages." The power blinked around 7 am this morning...had to flip the switches again, and taking a look at the neighborhood homes few looked grim from the sudden move only a month or two ago. The moans at least ceased about eight, going on nine this morning, and the cellar services had begun to go on the fritzes about that time. It was 2 pm in the afternoon; when the sound of gun-fire cased the city all at once, and a explosion shook the neighborhood. As the sound of annoying alarms began to blarr in my neighborhood for the moment.
News crew were on edge during the entire report and refer to the "boom" to be a nearby gas station fire erupted the area, but no footage was shown. Tried my dads cell, and still no responds from either of them. Hating to microwave food, especially left over's from the fridge. It was going on four when the house phone coursed through the kitchen/ eating area of the lower part of the house. It was the registered number of my parent's friend trying to get in touch with them, and stupidly shouted their names hitting the button. Then as I spoke the man roodly hung up on me, as I flipped the bird to him…
The man from my moms work called again and apoligxed for his roodness, he said his name was Jeff, or another and the conversation lasted for a moment. The man encouraged the importance of the call toward my mom and I reluctantly agreed. Hanging it up and slamming the phone, I began to pick at my left over chicken, rice and English peas. Later I could only glance at the sky in the late night sky growing darker, as I watched from the comfort of the kitchen window of leaves spookiedly being shifted a few leaves on the ground. It didn't take long for the street lamps to buzz on, and still no sign of my parents.I hated the odd quietness of the open once community of the twenty or so houses together in a once populated neghiborhood, dwindle slowly to no more than, five or six. Like this morning…the moans have begun to grow, as well as the clatter of distance gun-fire in the night. Securing latching the front doors; and latched all the windows, as the uncomfortable chill of the night air sent tremors on my arms.
Oddly; the service of the sate-light oddly went out and I couldn't get it to work on any television in the house. Checking the phone; I found no calls on the cell or messages while I later took another shower, in case of a call(not as long as the one before) Drying my wet-head of hair; I decided to leave my dirty clothes on in odd suspension of an odd feeling. Grabbing the run away bag from under my bed the one-strapped army bag propping the bag of the nightstand. Un-clipping the phone from my belt laying it on the window seal, but trying to fall asleep was almost impossible. This time not fighting sleep...I began to drift to sleep.
*October 1, 2005
I hardly slept a wink...maybe caught a few winks asleep around four or five thanks to the god awful moans. From the moaning and gunfire drawing, that seemed like it was drawing closer to my neighborhood. With all the noise; had finally quietly die down, I nearly slept almost till almost a maybe around 8 or so in the morning. The power was out when I awoke again this morning, but didn't stay out too long about an hour or so. As usual Pop`tarts for breakfast, with a glass of milk, which seemed to be one day till expiring date even though I drank about half before pouring it out in the sink. Still no calls on either the house phone or cell, and my nerves are on edge. During the entire morning, I left a message on dad's cell, but still nothing from either of them.
About another hour past...before I felt the eeriness of the house and the quietness. Searching the house; I found the comfort of the bag prompt in the corner and the fire-ax next to it form my dads as chief of the local volunteer fire department, more of a souvenir. My thoughts still worrying about my parents night out to lead to them not showing up for two days, yet oddly this wasn't them. All my concentration on my moms cell, waiting for my mom's mission impossible ring tone. All I wanted was that stupid ring tone to ring, and it'd be my parents saying everything was fine…but as usual nothing. All my train of thought was the that slender silver phone.
More than half-an hour passed; staring helplessly at the stupid cellar phone of my moms, all attention on that phone, waiting for anyone to call. With the cable services out...absolutely no television from any other room in the house. Then a call on the house phone nearly sent me into a panic...answering the cordless phone to find the same person, Jeff or another on the other end. Still the same message to get in touch with my mom. This time I member the poking question; I questioned from my end over the phone, "what's...going on?" "Nothing..."he stammered irritably over the phone assuring me if I hear from to get in touch with him. When I redialed the number back…all I could get was a busy signal on the other line. SO in defeat I only hung up the phone in defeat and began to turn to my thoughts.
I felt the corners of my mind begging to collapse all my train of thoughts on my parents, going over variously scenarios of the "what-ifs" I really by now thought something to be wrong, but food was starting to dwindle having more than maybe a couple of days to last. Supplies…wasn't the only thing to think of; school was a joke, I remembered I'd have to get a excuse from my several absentees' doctors note or another…
*October 2, 2005
It had been a long night...no time to write any more in my journal. Found a battery radio still in good use, and I got the few signals while eating this morning. To my surprise,...I nearly choked on my cold cereal when I found the whole tri-area had been on lock down and all routs as well as transportation from the city ended yesterday afternoon. I couldn't think my parents leave without me nor could they? That was the question that buzzed my mind; yes, my parents and I had our problems, but not enough to completely ditch me altogether. With the list of dead growing by the minuet, as well as the previously reported attacks were growing in expediential numbers closer.
Lost in thought...possibilities of my parents being on the list of possibly dead on file, as I hung to the small radio word for word. One other thing to report teams were being brought into the city, known as CDF short for Creedy Defense Force to control the mass panic. Few people on the shows dis-proved the team being too late. Some being in favor argued with the varicose hosts, saying it was better than doin nothing. But luckily the attacks haven't reached my area yet, but the moans have begun to once again start, and with it from lac of sleep cant focus.
I chose not to write...till later in the afternoon. Its about mid-afternoon more around five or so. *More bad news...foods virtually gone; and the power refuse to stay on all the time lasting more than a hour or two tops, and going off. Thinking of venturing into the city crossed my mind, but I disclosed it. Even though radio reports abide by doing anything of the sort, that staying in doors was the answer, right… With it reports on the soldiers sent in are having heavy losses, but holding what insane citizens back. The radio has played non-stop, of reports and updates deeper into the city. As well as special medical operatives were bring into the city. Tried to get online…but no such luck; and hadn't had a signal traced on the logs for several days.
The moans were starting to grow much louder; even in a small community a few muiets into the city to draw even closer. Deciding to plan my leave tomorrow; not before contemplating the possible occurrence choice of my parent's safety and not being able to reach me. As well as the power officially not coming on anymore, but luckily the gas-top stove can cook the little food for tomorrow's breakfast. Leaving the doors shut would provide some chill to the remaining food and freezer. The house is dark, cold and empty, as I write under the light of a few candles in my bedrooms.
Deciding in case something was to happen or my parents coming to find me, I'm writing a note...taking moms cell left it simple and short and sweet on the auto-men furniture near the front door. With the pack over my shoulder, the fire-ax in the other I prepared for my embark in the city...