Everything had changed so fast. One moment I was simply relaxing in the basement to being completely alone. No one else alive. No one. Just me.
I wake up, my head throbbing and my heart beating a million miles per hour. The ceiling had completely caved in. I was under a table, I could hear it creaking and feel it buckling above me as it struggled to hold all the weight that had fallen on it. I rolled out from under it just in time, the loud crash resounding throughout the room.
A curtain of fine dust covers everything. Parts of wall, ceiling, and debris lay everywhere, making it hard to move around. I try to salvage what I can find but there isn’t much, except for some food and a knife I managed to find in a crumpled cupboard.
I sit on the floor next to the crushed table, a small fire smoldering in front of me. I had to get out of here, find some sort of civilization. But how would a 19 year old college student survive? There had to be some survivors somewhere, but one would never know which ones would be hostile. But I couldn’t sit here and wait for something to happen.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Nearly four months have passed since I finally emerged from the basement through the small hole I had made. I am probably somewhere in New Jersey. There was nothing left, nothing green. Only dirt, crumbling, destroyed buildings, and random household items everywhere.
“LOOK OUT!”
A child’s voice yells from behind me. I turn on my heel, adrenaline pumping through my veins like poison.
It seems to unfold in slow motion. A boy that looks about 10, wispy dirty blond side bangs covers his eyes, wide in fear, runs toward me. He is extremely dirty, his clothes almost rags. It is quite a sight. But what is behind the boy, running after him, is the most shocking.
Its yellow eyes shine in the sunlight, like jewels from the farthest reaches of Hell. Claws so long and sharp that I can see the long, deep ruts that scar the earth. Its fur, darker than the blackest coal, bristles on end. His teeth, sharp as razors and the milky- yellow color of butter, snap menacingly at the boy, getting closer and closer with every stride.
I draw my knife, almost unsure of what to do. The boy and the wolf are about fifteen feet away. Ten. The boy runs by me and the creature turns on me, powerful muscles rippling as it lunges at me. I yell as I hold up my knife, a deafening yelp thundering throughout the wasteland as the animal collapses on me.
The weight is incredible. Almost 200 pounds of deadweight crushes me. Blood runs over my throat and down my shirt.
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” I say quietly, my voice breathless. “Get me out of here!”
I struggle, barely able to breath. I hear grunting as the boy strains against the wolf. For a moment, nothing happens. Then, little by little, the thing starts to move, nearly crushing my arm as it rolls off to the side.
Before I can even sit up the boy has a small pistol pointed at me.
“Who are you?”
“Put the gun down, kid.” I say, sitting up.
“Tell me who you are and what you are doing!” He shouts, cocking the gun. “I will shoot you!”
“Whoa! Easy, now. Easy!” I say raising my hands in front of me. “I’m Alice. I’m trying to find survivors and go North to Maine.”
The boy tilts his head to one side, a frown on his face.
“I’m going to trust you on that one.” He puts the gun down, unloaded.
