Spero: A Post-Apocalyptic Short Story |COMPLETE| ✔

<FOUR>

12:45
June 24, 2023

Day  eighthy~seven

My feet ached, and I could feel the blisters as they rubbed up against my boots as I pushed through the forestry.

At least this way, the route would be shorter.

...And maybe I wouldn't have to deal with more dead bodies. I had definitely seen my fair share at war, but I had a feeling the universe would present me with more nightmares before the end of my life.

As I trudged through the thick, gooey mixes of damp leaf ash and what I assumed was once a fairly wide creek, one of my boots slipped down about an extra foot into the goop.

It let out a satisfied squelch at my being trapped, holding onto me with twice the grip of a grown man.

Though, as I failed to see it in that moment, there was a plus. The leg that had gotten caught was my bad leg, so I could still stand up without tumbling into the unnatural quicksand.

My eyes darted around the scene, searching for something, anything, to tug me out of this pit of doom.

My eyes found a meaty grape vine not too far ahead of me. A small thorn plant had woven its self around much of the vine, making the grab extra difficult.

I grit my teeth, not knowing the consequences of exposing myself to radiation adding extra stress to the situation. I had trekked through warzones, and now I was restricted by some possibly toxic mud.

I could feel the water that was mixed in sleeping into my clothes. So much for protection.

I shook my head as I leapt forward with all my might, my hand snagging the vine (And it snagging me back) before I was jerked backward by my captured leg.

I calmed my breathing, the pain in my hand flowing up my arm.

Slowly but surely, I began to climb up the solid, brown vine. This time I could actually avoid piercing my hand.

Soon, I was in the air, my boot barely stuck in the goop.

I gave a final jerk of my leg, The familiar squelch echoing around the forest.

I began to swing, the momentum from the tug causing the vine to lurch forward.

Just as the vine began to tear from the tree holding it, I leapt off, rolling into a crouch.

I stayed in that position, watching as a rotted and blackened branch smacked into the ground.

I looked up at the sky.

Guess I'm not dying today after all.

A loud click sounded right behind me, causing my blood to run cold.

I slowly turned to look over my shoulder, my eyes widening at the double-barrel shotgun aimed at my face.

What was even more chilling was the gun's owner.

Too soon,

I thought to myself as my teeth ground against one another,

Too soon.
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