Takeover

Chapter 2

I rush towards the fire, a fierce red glow radiating from its core. I slip and trip on the loose sand every other step, yet I still manage to run faster than the water crawling back to its body. I stumble through the dense fog and flail over a stump on the ground. I blink once, brushing off my hands and knees, attempting to regain my composure amongst the torment of anxiety and stress. I turn around and look at what caused my untimely fall. 

The cloud of smoke slightly subsides, just enough to make out blurry silhouettes. I shriek uncontrollably, cupping my hand over my gaping mouth. The lump on the ground was charred to a crisp, the only recognized feature being the worn, black hunting boots. I shy away from the horribly disfigured person. Dead, I should also add. They all are. Weaving around each body, another one is found a foot away from the other. I hold myself in my shaking arms, still no tears streak down my face. The pain I experience with every glance of death feels similar to getting stabbed from the inside out. I throw up in my mouth, scrunching my nose up when the sour, blunt aroma of overdone flesh accompanied by the unpleasant smoke wafts around me in all directions. All I want to do is fall down and sob. It wouldn't make me weak, it just proves that I'm still human and right now I need some humanity; some reality. 

I shuffle wearily past the bodies strewn across the ground. Looking left and right, I take out my phone, my hands shaking as I dial my dad's number. It rings a few times before I hear his old school Batman theme song blaring across the grass. I carefully follow the sound, resembling a lioness creeping up on its prey. Just the thought of having to dodge dead people on my way to the phone makes me utterly sick to my stomach. 

Finally, I notice the soft glow of the screen. I pick it up and examine it before glancing back to where I found it, catching a hand in my peripheral vision. Attached to the burnt hand is an even more burnt arm, which is attached to a crispy body. I stop. Dad. All I can do is sob. I'm all alone. There is not a living person in sight and the city is over 15 miles away. My heart beats like a bass drum as my breath feels sharp and drowning. It almost chokes me. 

Out of the silence came voices, deep but young. I lay down among the dead quietly. I'm not sure why I hide when I hear the voices. There is just something unsettling about them. Exotic. Foreign. Whatever the thought was, it drove my instincts to lie as still as the death the covers the ground. My breath shutters with a nonexistent yet, deafening echo. The paranoid volume convinces me that I'll be found. Nonetheless, I stay there with only my thoughts to comfort me. I hear the voices draw closer over the terrain. 

"I doubt anyone would've survived this. It's the biggest bomb yet," one voice claims with a sickening confidence. 

"We still should check though to be safe," the other counsels. The voices sound like memories in my mind. I can't quite pinpoint where I've heard it from though. I'm not sure but if I stick around any longer I may never find out. I close my eyes and take a deep breath, aligning my thoughts and consulting my conscience.  

Ultimately, my best bet would be the thick forest on the east side of the beach. If I make it there, I could lose them. I look out of the corner of my eye to see the figures standing together by the fire. Now or never, I think to myself as my heart speeds up.

I choose now.