Noise in the distance

With paper and pencil in hand he sat there alone in his make shift hide-away focused intently on every word as he told the story of how he had come to be where and who he had become. The only light he had was provided by the bright full moon that was beaming through the window of the tool shed he was calling home tonight. He could feel every bit of the humidity as he dripped with sweat.

At points he would consider going outside to try to catch some breeze but he had learned better. Cannibals don’t care if your old, young, man, woman or even a child. It had become all about survival and to some living off of plants was not going to be an option.

Within months of the virus it began to replicate and mutate and infected livestock. Sea-life was one of the few animals to survive but even they became hard to find within a year due to extreme over fishing. Some people desperate to live and understandably so began consuming the recently dead not giving thought to the virus being in the blood and flesh.

Eventually it became realized only the unsick was safe to eat. These people would go out and slaughter entire families trying to hide out till the virus had passed. The virus may have killed 60% of the world’s population but human cannibalism killed another 20% within the first three years.

With it becoming harder and harder to find healthy humans, these cannibals had perfected the art of only eating bits and pieces of their victims. Sometimes keeping them alive for months as they took an arm here and leg there.

Ray knew this, which gave him great reason to sweat out the night in something closer to safety. His thoughts continued to turn to his three children and what was likely their fate. As Ray laid back and rested his head against an old hay bale he looked up at the moon coming in through the window and thought just how easy it would be to pull the trigger and end this misery.

Now Ray was not suicidal but the loss of everyone he cared about left him in such a terrible state. He began to close his eyes and picture his wife standing in the kitchen making waffles and smiling her ever so bright smile. He was nearly asleep when he heard what sounded like a gunshot ring out.

As he jumped to his feet with gun in hand he glanced out the window trying to see if he could make out where the sound came from. He could see no more than 100 yards across the field what appeared to be torch light, and several of them.

He could not help but wonder if this was the way it was all going to end, hidden in a damp and musty storage shed. He knew however that the chances of them coming to where he was hiding would be slim at best considering they had not made a turn toward him yet. He thought about making contact, what if these happened to be just regular normal people but he had yet to see those kinds of people out and about at any time much less dead of night.

As Ray noticed the lights slowly moving away from him he had another thought run through his mind. What if these people were the ones who took his children? He was in Florida after all. With that thought running through he decided he no choice but to chance it and attempt to follow them back to their camp. He looked down and checked his gun, eleven shots remained so he had to be careful how he used them was anything to happen.

Before opening the door, he reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet containing an old photograph of his wife and kids. This photo had already provided him with much of the strength to survive as long as he had.

Ray kissed the photo and put his wallet away. He knew what he had to do was dangerous but he really felt he lacked a choice in the matter.

Ray made his way out of the shed that he had called home for the past few nights and made his way following the group of gun wielding possibly cannibalistic individuals while keeping as much distance as he could without losing sight of them. This continued throughout the night until right before sunrise.

This group had taken over a small gated community and from the looks of it from what Ray could see they were a very well-armed and organized group. He began to think there is little chance this group of people was the same crazed type of people he had ran into before. However at this point with the sun rising he knew it was too dangerous to get any closer then where he was, just in case.

He made his perch near a tree line atop a decent sized hill and laid there watching, trying to get any glimpse inside this community to see just what type these people were. He covered himself with as much brush as he could muster but not only to keep out of sight but to also provide so shelter from the blistering summer heat.

The hours came and they went. No one entered or left the gated area all day long. The sun beat down but under the shade of the leaves Ray had covered himself with he felt decently comfortable.

It was late afternoon and Ray had dozed off figuring he could get himself a few hours rest before nightfall. His dreams drifted off to summer pool parties he use to throw at his house. He knew he was dreaming but he didn’t care. He wanted to stay in this make believe land for as long as he could.

“HELP......SOMEONE PLEASE HELP.... OH MY GOD NOOOOO” The screaming woke him and the terrifying sound in the voice sent chills down his spine. He couldn’t see what was happening from where he was but he could also not reveal his position. The screams had been followed by many gun shots but he had no idea who was shooting at who.

“HELP ME.... HEL...P...P...pppp” He could hear multiple people screaming and couldn’t take any more. He had to move in closer.

Ray crawled on the ground for about sixty feet till he could clearly make out some of what was happening. He saw a make shift rolling prison and a group of guys loading up people into it. He must have miss-read these people but still in his mind he was glad to have not introduced himself or he would be being led away the same way. They carried the dead and threw them in with the living. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

Just the shear horror of it all would have been enough to turn his stomach if he had even ate anything these last three days. There was nothing he could do to help these people as he was outnumbered at least twenty-four to one.

“That’s all the room we have guys, let’s roll on”. “Yeah leave the rest”. They slowly started down the road with what Ray could only assume were human slaves pulling this rolling death sentence.

The sounds of screaming and gunfire gave way to the eerie sound of nothingness. Ray slowly got up from the ground and brushed himself off. Slowly making his way towards the gate he could see streams of blood coming out of the community only to end where the bodies had been loaded onto the wagon used to carry them away.

He was relieved in the sight of such suffering that he had not seen any of his kids loaded up by the monsters that just left. He found it amazing how in just four years he went from caring about everyone he met to not giving a dam as long as it was not his family. Sorrow just was not in his heart for other humans anymore.

Today he counted his blessing to not have definite knowledge of the death of his kids as this gave him hope. Hope in these times had become his great enabler, allowing him to press on and giving his existence purpose. So many times he had ran into people who had nothing left and watched as they gave into the holes in their hearts and ended their own lives. This would not be him. Not as long as he could hold onto that hope.

A plaque at the gate said in big lettering ' Crescent Estates' and under that reading ' A perfect place to raise a family'. Ray could not help but let out a small chuckle. Finding things to laugh about these days had become a pretty big chore. Not much funny with the death and despair as plentiful as it was in these times. At least however he was able to crack a small smile no matter how brief, this helped remind him that he was still human.

After all it was the small things he missed the most from his life before the outbreak began. The laughter of his kids when he would pretend to be beaten up while wrestling with them. The smile on the face of his beautiful wife after sharing a kiss. The memories of these moments had withstood everything that had happened.

As he entered the gate he could see house after house. He could imagine this as someone's mid-American dream. A safe neighborhood miles outside of town fenced in with a guard stand at the entrance. A place where a family might of felt safe from everything the world could throw at them. Much like he did four years ago. A middle income earner, he could see his wife and kids playing in the sprinkler system in the front yard. Neighbors inviting them over for cookouts and sharing a beer with the guys. Everything that could have been possible.

Quickly he snapped back to reality as he looked to the first house on his left and laid eyes on an older man lying on the front lawn. Beheaded and most his clothing removed, this man symbolized everything that had gone wrong with mankind. How could any god fearing man do this, but then again how could god even exist?

Ray was a man of deep faith before. Ray, his wife and their kids dressed in their Sunday’s best every week. He even kept a bible on the coffee table in the living room and read from it on most nights before bed. His faith however became just another casualty of a world gone to hell.

Night was coming quickly and Ray knew better then to be out after dark. He was so hungry but searching for food would have to wait till tomorrow. For now he needed to find somewhere safe to sleep. Walking behind the houses he found one with a small shed like the one he had been staying in. Ray had learned over time that when people come to scavenge an area they typically go into houses and not small sheds so those had become his sleeping area of choice. They may not make the most comfortable sleeping arrangements but sheds were much safer. And safety kept him breathing.

Ray sat down inside and rolled up a tarp for a makeshift pillow and laid back. An hour had passed and Ray realized he could not sleep, hell he had slept most the day away. Unable to sleep and a stomach that wouldn’t shut up, he contemplated going against his learned instincts and attempting to search the area for food. At the very least if his search was successful he would not be hungry anymore, and if someone showed up he knew he had eleven shots which might be enough for him to escape.

Still the prospect of using his gun scared him. Ammunition was next to impossible for someone to come by unless they had food for trade.

He had fired only once since he found this gun over a year ago. The image of the young man he shoot still haunted his dreams. He had no choice at the time and he knew this but he could not shake the feeling he had in taking someone’s life. Ray still had the shell casing from that day in his pocket and it reminded him daily. He didn't know why he had kept it. Maybe it was his way of reminding himself that if he had to kill to live he would be able to do so.

He could hear thunder in the background. A storm was coming and he was pleased at this. All he had to do was find himself a bucket to collect the rainwater in. Rain had become his primary source for drinking water and he was nearly out. His backpack contained six water bottles and he had less than half of one bottle left. Food was important but water was essential. He covered his backpack up with the tarp and walked out of the shed. With gun in hand he walked to the nearest house.

As he approached the doorway he could hear murmurs from the inside. Slowly he opened the door only to see a young girl lying on the ground, shot and bleeding from the upper right side of her chest. This girl could not have been more than nine years of age and she was laying here dying in front of him. He knelled down by her side and pushed his hands over the wound,

“You’re going to be Okay”. He knew that was a lie but she gave him a fainting smile which brought tears from his eyes.

“I don’t want to die” she said softly. “Please don't let me die”. He watched as her eyes went dark and the life slipped away. Her heart stopped pumping blood out of the gunshot wound and through his hands. First person he had talked to in months died in his hands and it just had to be a little child.

Sadness for this girl gave way to panic as he heard a noise come from a room up the hall. Ray quickly rose to his feet and laid his back against the wall. He stood there completely still for at least two minutes waiting to hear something else. Night was fast approaching and he could hear rain drops begin to fall. This was not the time to investigate noises and he knew it. Instead he quickly grabbed two pots from the kitchen he was in and went back outside as quickly and quietly as he could.

He sat the pots up behind the shed and near the corners so they could catch the rain coming off of the sheds roof. He sat awake listening to the rain as it fell around him. The face of that girl flashing into his eyes every time they shut. He knew if his children happened to still be alive, he needed to escalate his search and cover more ground. He would have to find someone to talk to, and gather any information about possible sights his kids could be held at. Time was running thin and Ray knew it. Tomorrow he would search a few houses for what he could and be on his way.

The shower lasted for a few hours during which Ray held tightly to his gun. Much more difficult to hear problems headed your way in the rain. These little survivor skills he had picked up along the way had served him well. Such as traveling only during daylight since most hunters hunt at night.

He quickly left the shed and grabbed the pots to fill up his water bottles. He had collected enough water to fill four bottles which meant he would have enough water for four days so long as he did not over exert himself. It had been a productive rain but now it had passed. This shed had no windows so he had to leave the door open a bit to be able to have some light make its way in.

He didn’t mind too much since the rain cooled air felt so good on his dried up skin. The weeks of humidity really did a number on him physically and mentally and it felt great to be able to relax in the cool air for a change. He sat down in the shed and pulled out his paper and pen. He wandered if anyone other than himself would ever see what he had written. Honestly he thought to himself, does it even matter? Maybe this was just him writing to let god know what had happened. He didn’t know anymore.