Annihilation

Infection

         My name is Aria and I am sixteen years old. The world is ending and we are the reason why. No one knows where the infection originated, but the first American case was found in Chicago. Some guy, Isaac was his name, was acting strange. His sister was the one who found him standing over his roommate’s body. Isaac’s mouth stained with blood, his body emaciated, his lips detached and his skin falling off. His body smelled like death, a pungent decaying odor. His roommate’s stomach split down the center. His organs were spilling on to the floor. She said it was like a scene from a King novel.

         “Isaac, this isn’t funny. It’s just really creepy!” she said.

         She assumed it was another one of their infamous pranks. Isaac and his roommate always performed elaborate pranks. Every little detail mattered.  She took another step closer.

         “Isaac?”

         She said he pulled his body up slowly. He had no control of his limbs. His face showed no emotion. She described a drug-induced haze and she thought that might be possible.

         “Isaac?”

         She said he couldn’t form words. A few subtle groans slipped through his crimson-stained mouth. She says he lunged towards her. She swears she felt the world slowly turning. He sunk his rotting teeth in her right shoulder.

         “What’s wrong with you?”

         She said she ran faster than she ever had before. She broke through her front door two blocks away and ran straight for her bathroom. There was blood dripping down her arm. She cleaned the mark and went on with her day. She tried for hours to find help for her brother, but it was too late. She called her friend, Paul I think it was, with her brother’s outrageous behaviors. Paul, the doctor, thought he might be having a mental breakdown, she didn’t agree.

         Paul said it was about twenty minutes after her brother bit her when she started to act oddly. He said she called him in a panic. She spent ten minutes slurring her words into monotone groans then the line went dead.

         Paul found her curled into a corner. Her dress was stained red and a pile of baby blue jays lay lifeless beneath her pale fingers. Paul watched her crack the neck of one and rip it open with her bare hands. He described a disturbing creature. He said he gently approached her. She bit his ear. Twenty minutes later someone found him gnawing on a squirrel after receiving a panicked phone call.

         It spread like wildfire. People would receive panicked phone calls from loved ones and find them a short time later. Their bodies falling apart, stained with various types of blood, moaning sounds no one could decipher.

         It is an epidemic, an infection with no cure. We’ve realized once you’re bitten you’re done for in the first twenty minutes. The only way to put an end to these creatures is one clean shot to the head.

The Beginning

         I was seven when the scare started. People would always talk about the end of the world.  A massive earthquake, a terrible tsunami, a whirlwind of tornadoes, and a hard hurricane, one or all of these was how most thought the world would end. My parents told me that it was impossible. There was no way the world could end and I believed that, but I was also seven. Naïve, I believed that the word was invincible. As kids, we’d pretend the world was ending. We’d all sit on the trampoline, about ten of us, and two of us would start to bounce everyone around. Whoever didn’t fall survived. 

They’re Here

“Warning: We are in a state of emergency! Be sure to travel in pairs, keep yourselves armed, and know it is dangerous.”

         A siren broke through the speakers in my pale blue Wrangler.

         “What are we going to do,” Toby questioned.

         Toby is my best friend and my favorite person.

         “We’re going to pretend we’re playing call of duty, but this time I’m not going to die in the first five seconds,” I replied.

         Toby laughed a little staring at our street. The infection hasn’t hit us yet, but it’s two towns over. Some call the creatures zombies and others call them walkers. They travel in herds like trained animals, loud sounds agitate them, and they show no signs of understanding the world around them.

         “Who knew the world really would end,” said Toby.

         “The world isn’t ending, people are just finding a new way to live and communicate.”

         “My sweet, sweet Aria. The zombies are going to eat our brains!”

         His nervous jokes were not comforting. We both knew there was truth behind them, but neither one of us would admit that.

         “My dear, dear Toby. I’m going to outlive you!”

         “You can’t even survive a video game! I’ll remember you well.”

         We both started laughing, but another warning broke it up.

         “Warning: A case has been spotted here, in Ravenswood! A twenty-five-year-old male was seen showing symptoms. He has been taken for examination and will be locked away. A few walkers have been seen on the outskirts of town! Find shelter immediately!”

         My foot pressed the gas pedal to the floor before I could comprehend what I heard.

         “Ari, slow down. We’re in a residential area.”

         “Did you not hear what they said? The infection is here! We need to find shelter or protection or something!”

         “Pull into my driveway.”

         Toby was prepared for anything, raised by his hunting single father. Several riffles, handguns, and knives were housed in a storage closet in his basement.

         “I can’t use these!”

         “Ari, you’ve been hunting with my dad and me. You’ll be fine. Just stick to what you know, the smaller the better.”

         We gather all we could, brought it upstairs, and locked all the windows and doors.

         We thought we were safe.

Sacrifice

         Gunshots echoed off disheveled houses. Helpless screams vibrated windows and fires lit the streets.

         “We have to go out there,” Toby protested.

         “Are you inhaling gasoline,” I questioned?

         “We have to find Lucy. I won’t leave her out there to die.”

         Lucy is Toby’s girlfriend of two years and my friend.

         “Are we positive she hasn’t left yet?”

         “No, but we have to try.”

         We gathered all that we could and ventured out into the chaotic street. We were two blocks from Lucy’s house. We could make it two blocks.

         We made it to her front lawn before everything went wrong.

         Toby called Lucy and she answered, he told her we were across the street and we would get her out safe. All she had to do was walk outside. Toby and I hid behind a bush waiting for her. The second she slammed the front door six walkers approached her porch. Cornered, she fought hard. Two of them bit her at once and she collapsed.

         Toby ran towards her firing as many bullets as he could. It was too late.

         The walkers headed towards an obnoxious siren coming from the house next door while I ran across the street.

         “Toby, you have to do it,” whispered Lucy.

         “No, I will not do that to you!”

         I watched Lucy start to change. Her body shriveled and her eyes turned black. Toby stepped back and pointed his gun between her eyes.

         “I love you.”

Blood

         They were all red. The color of our fears. Our clothes were stained crimson with memories of our loved ones.

         “We need to find shelter,” said Toby. “Somewhere we can barricade ourselves in, away from loud noises. I was thinking of the old hardware store on sixth-street. It has weapons and that old trick door.”

         I nodded pulling myself up off the ground, gathering all the ammo and weapons we had left.

         “But we have to stick together. Promise.”

         “Promise,” he whispered.

         The hardware store was four blocks away. We could make four blocks; we needed to make four blocks. There were torn up organs and limbs laying on bloodstained sidewalks.

         “It looks like a war zone,” said Toby.

         “Video games always seem less devastating.”

         “Just pretend it’s a game.”

         “What do you mean?”

         “It looks like call of duty, right?”

         “Yeah, just a hell of a lot bloodier.”

         “Pretend we’re in the game and this is our mission!”

         It worked for a little while. We were almost having fun with it until I turned around. I found my mom. She was lying still in a pool of blood with her beautiful body torn to shreds. I screamed. Toby turned around and slapped his hand across my mouth.

         “SHH! It’s okay, you’re okay.”

         My body trembled in his arms and tears poured on to his shirt. I couldn’t breathe and all I wanted was to scream, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t risk our lives.

         “Let’s get out of here.”

         I saw a flower in the garden bed next to us. I picked a single rose and laid it across her body and walked away.

End

         We heard wood begin to crack like someone was tearing plywood off the walls. Toby turned to me and gestured toward the door. Subtle groans slipped through the cracks.

         “We’re not alone,” he whispered.

         They were here to feast on our starving bodies. We had been hiding for almost two days.

         “What are we going to do if they get in here?”

         “We’re going to fight. I’ll go head-on and you take what you can. If you get too worn out or run out of ammo you head through the back door.”

         “I am not leaving you.”

         “That isn’t up for debate Ari.”

         “You are the last person I have Toby and I rather turn into one of those, those things then leave you. So if it comes down to it I guess I’m going to be their next meal!”

         Toby looked at me and we both started to laugh.

         “You and I till the end,” he said pulling me in and kissing my forehead.

         More and more sunlight began to shine through as pieces of plywood were pried from the windows and doors. The smell of decaying souls pierced through the door as tons of walkers made their way into the decrepit building.

         “It’s now or never!” shouted Toby.

         The sound of bones cracking, blood splattering, and skin tearing echoed off the detached plywood. I could hear them snarling in my ear, it sent shivers down my spine.

         I fired my last round when I heard it.

         Toby screamed in pain. One bit his cheek, the other his leg, another his arm, and the final one his side. I turned around, pointed my gun, and pulled the trigger.

         “I’m sorry,” I whispered.