Red Eye

Part Twelve

PANIC MODE ACTIVATED.

My body immediately shuts down. My back is pressed against the display counter, the cold glass causing goosebumps to form and an involuntary shiver crawls down my spine. My eyes locked onto the figure, I indulge a moment of temporary stupidity and trick myself into believing it's merely a trick of the light. Maybe it's just my own shadow but when I test this theory by slowly tilting my head, the figure doesn't repeat the gesture. 

SHIT! SHIT! SHIT!

Ok... um... come on brain... work!

I entertain the thought that maybe if I stay perfectly still, it will eventually go away. 

Always works in the movies, right?

I can't fully tell how close the figure is... if it's some distance away and the light is simply projecting the shadow or if it's right there, pressed against the glass, peering in. It's just standing there, completely rigid. It hasn't made the slightest movement since I've been staring at it. And it's completely silent too. If this were like the movies and those things out there are really zombies, it would at least be moaning or trying to claw its way in. But it's not doing anything. 

Maybe it's not even a Red Eye. What if it's someone, a survivor, looking for refuge? Should I let them know I'm here, should I let them in? What if they're hurt and need help? What if they're infected? Should I risk it?

I quickly look around for a weapon, some sort of blunt object to defend myself with but there's nothing within reachable distance.

For fuck's sake!

Annoyed with myself, I draw my eyes back to the window only to be surprised when I discover the figure has completely disappeared. After a moment's hesitation, I push myself onto my feet and cautiously make my way to the window, carefully lifting part of the signage and scanning the area.

There's no way it could have moved that fast. Could it?

In all the videos, the Red Eyes had gained enhanced agility, able to master great strides when it came to running after people and attacking. But this vanishing act had happened within the blink of an eye. Had they seriously become that quick?

Looking about and seeing no lingering signs of the figure, I allow myself to indulge in a huge sigh of relief before a sudden thought causes me to choke on the escaping breath.

Maybe this figure was a spy... sent to survey the landscape, seek out the last few survivors. What if the figure had been the Red Eye that attacked this place, remembering he had left me behind? Had he come back to finish the job? Was he simply checking in on me, hoping to bring back reinforcements to ensure I couldn't escape again? 

Looking around my stronghold, I knew it wouldn't survive a full-fledged attack. Once the windows shatter, the tables and chairs would only delay them for so long. I could still rely on my panic shelter in the bathroom, but what if they managed to break the handle or rip the door off its hinges. What then? 

I could try to escape now, gather my stuff and seek out a new hiding spot. But where would I go? What if other survivors had already called dibs on certain areas and were territorial about their bases? What if the figure outside had set a trap, waiting to ambush me the moment I stepped out the doors? No matter what, if I stayed or left, I'd be a target. A sitting duck playing the long waiting game with an ever-diminishing amount of patience. 

Why do I always keep finding myself in one shit-hole after another? Why do I always keep trapping myself in a situation I know I can't escape from? Why do I always keep running toward another dead end and expecting myself not to crash?  Why do I always keep proving the worst is yet to come?