Wake of the Dead | One

Chapter two

Jasper's body ached as he walked along the empty street of the abandoned city. Trash littered the ground or floated across the desolate pavement, cars lay abandoned on the roads and street lamps flickered, ominously illuminating the lonely sidewalks. No birds chirped, no scavenger rifled through garbage bins. It was just quiet and still. 

Jasper been one of the first responding military soldiers that had been sent out to combat the oncoming hoard of the undead. The man could remember the haunting screams of sheer terror, the rapid gunfire as he tried to protect the innocent civilians and the men fighting alongside him; screams of agony as civilians and soldiers alike were eaten alive. There was nothing he'd heard or experienced remotely like it, and he silently prayed that he never would again. Jasper wasn't religious, but that was the day he truly believed; if there was a God out there, it had given up on its creations. But that still didn't mean he should lay down like a dog and die. His job had been to save the lives of the innocent, and it still was.

Jasper had fought until he could feel every one of his muscles giving out, with nothing but instinct to protect him from the monstrous creatures that seemed to come from the depths of Hell itself. He still remembered the rotting faces as clear as day, even months after. They haunted his dreams, fueling vivid nightmares that prevented sleep from giving him a momentary few hours of peace. One of his fellow soldiers had forced him to retreat. Jasper had to be dragged away. Even months later, the guilt still weighed down on man's shoulders. He didn't want to leave those people to fend for themselves, even if he was being ordered to. Rowan--the soldier who had pulled him away--had died half a day later after being bitten. A shudder ran down Jasper's spine as he remembered the grotesque process that Rowan's body had gone through in those few hours. 

From there, Jasper had found a group of civilians who'd managed to survive. Jasper's guess was that only a few hundred people managed to get out of the city alive and unbitten. Many people had felt like they lost their purpose in life. But not Jasper. He could still do everything in his power to help as many people as possible. In this new and vile reality, a helping hand could change somebody's life for the better. 

A few months prior things had grown quieter in the city. The group he had settled down with was planning to move on from their camping spot in a few days, and Jasper was determined to find anybody who could possibly be held up in the city somewhere. Jasper had dared to go as far as the residential areas, but common sense wouldn't allow him to look towards the city center. Anybody who had been stuck there was dead for sure. Now Jasper was lingering closer to the edge near the road leading towards the highway. He was a few days travel from his group, and the man was wondering if they'd decide to leave without him if he didn't get back anytime soon.

Jasper tilted his head to the side when he came across some railroad tracks. There were deep footprints in the gravel, like somebody had been sprinting through in a hurry. With his curiosity piqued, his eyes trailed after the deep imprints as he followed them up to a chain-link fence. He gripped onto the links, hauling himself up and over the top. Jasper paused and noticed a streak of blood on a metal wire near the top of the fence. Whoever had gone over the fence must have been in too much of a rush to think about being careful. 

Jasper paused when the overwhelming stench of death hit him like a truck, and he immediately pulled a knife from his belt. Jasper had a handgun with him, but he would be a fool to use such a loud weapon where any other of the creatures could hear it.  

Even though he smelled the rotting bodies, Jasper didn't hear the hauntingly familiar snarls, groans, or gurgles. On closer inspection of his surroundings, Jasper's gaze landed on a pile of three bodies left up against the wall of an abandoned warehouse. They were definitely corpses of those...things. One of them had an arrow stuck in its head. He couldn't tell how the others were killed. Still, somebody had been through there. A living person! Butterflies of excitement trilled through Jasper's chest as his optimism began to sky rocket. A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. There was a survivor! But how was he going to find them?

Jasper tried following the blood trail from the fence for the rest of the day, but it had ended at an abandoned house where they'd presumably patched themselves up. Walking into the living room of the house, he noticed a can of empty soup laying on the floor. The back door was wide open, and from the broken hinges on the door it looked like whoever was here had left in a hurry. Jasper stepped into the yard, but his eyes widened when a hair-raising cry of agony pierced through the eerie silence. It echoed off of the buildings in the abandoned neighborhood, and he immediately began to sprint in the direction of where it seemed to be coming from. Aggressive shouting followed quickly after the initial cry that had alarmed him. What the Hell was going on? Whoever it was that he had followed was in trouble now.

Vaulting himself over a low wooden fence surrounding the yard, Jasper could see the the other side of the road led to a patch of small woods. The shouts were getting louder as he moved closer. Jasper couldn't quite make out what they were saying just yet. He could feel the familiar rush adrenaline pumping through his veins, and feel his heart pounding in his chest. Jasper's boots pounded hard against the ground as he crossed the road. A large bloodstain streaked across the grass that rolled into the woods. Making his way down the grassy slope, Jasper pushed through a bit of thorns blocking his way; the foliage was a lot thicker than he thought it would be. The trail of blood lead him to a clump of holly bushes that closed in a large portion of the woods. Jasper struggled for a few moments, but finally burst through into a large clearing.

Immediately, Jasper made out the shape of a large man pinning down another, slightly smaller individual. It wasn't long until he noticed how pale the smaller one looked, and the oozing blood on the long grass beneath him. It was gathering into a puddle that was slowly getting larger and larger. The smaller one was still trying to fight off their assailant. Instead of fear in their hazel eyes, Jasper only saw fury. Knowing his hunting blade probably wouldn't scare the large man with a butcher's knife, Jasper drew his gun and clicked the safety off, pointing it straight at the larger man. "Get off of them," Jasper said. His voice was strong and confident, filled with authority. He wouldn't give the other man any room to argue. He was the one in charge now. "I have a gun, I'll shoot." Jasper warned. "Don't make me say it twice."

As soon as Jasper spoke, the large man's head whipped around and he staggered up, kicking the smaller young man in the face. Their eyes clouded over into a mask of pain, before becoming unfocused. Jasper needed to calm the situation down before they bled out. "Why don't you go back and mind your own goddamn business?" The larger man spat. Jasper could see blood staining their jeans and shirt.

"I'm not going to stand here and let somebody get killed." Jasper retorted sharply. Part of him was curious as to why this man so viciously attacked the other. But he wasn't going to wait for an explanation. He needed to get that bleeding stopped immediately. "Drop the knife." Jasper demanded, nodding towards the ground for emphasis. The man narrowed his eyes, and took a few steps back. As soon as Jasper moved towards them, they took off into the woods. "Good riddance," He muttered under his breath. Jasper then turned his immediate attention to the younger man laying on the ground, grabbing their bag. Rummaging in it, his hand gripped onto a small box of some band aids. Those wouldn't do any good. Taking his knife, Jasper cut off some fabric from his jacket and pressed it deep into the younger man's abdomen. Blood immediately soaked the fabric, and Jasper pressed even harder. "Come on, kid. Stay with me." He demanded.

The younger man as breathing hard, and Jasper could see their eyes growing darker and darker. He moved his shoulders down to elevate their legs against him, and continued pressing against the wound. After a minute or so, the bleeding began to stop. By then, the young man was rendered unconscious. With his hands soaked in blood, Jasper left the cloth on the ground. They had to move before the creatures smelled the blood and came after them. Moving the younger man's bag across his shoulder, Jasper picked them up into his arms and held them protectively against his chest. He noticed they had a crossbow strapped to their back, and he was careful not to cut himself on one of the arrows. "Alright then," He said softly. "Let's find us some shelter."