Apartment 905, Sahin, Ned [black female authors .TXT] 📗

mile yesterday evening. The last quarter of the way was uphill. It pushed me to my limit, but it was worth it. I spent the night feeling safe at this rock hill.

Seeing the town and the mountain road gives me an advantage against any threat that may come my way. I haven’t seen or heard anybody driving or walking by. It doesn’t surprise me. With 80 percent of the population dead from the virus and anarchy ensuing around the globe, it’s not unusual to have empty roads.

After eating junk food for days, I couldn’t resist overeating canned beans and fish last night. I don’t regret it. I deserved this post-apocalyptic feast after the several life and death moments since I bugged out from my apartment.

I don’t regret having this dried peach for my breakfast either.

I lie down and feel amazed by how blue the sky is. Despite all the terrible things happening right now, the world is still very kind to us.

I should find a way to go to San Francisco to be with my family. Seeing the love in my mom’s eyes and hugging her would help me forget all the ugliness in the world.

There is one little problem. It will take almost three thousand miles to get there. I can’t even imagine walking all the way to the West Coast. I can possibly find an abandoned car that still has gas, but a car would get too much attention. There are probably Saviors checkpoints on highways anyway.

A mountain bike would be the least dangerous and most effective way of doing my cross-country trip. Even if it takes more than a month to get there, seeing my family would be worth it.

“Help!” a man screams in the woods across the road.

“Help!” This time it’s more intense and deeper.

I take my backpack and walk downhill over the rocks. I won’t be a selfish survivor. I will do my best if I hear someone asking for help. Whatever the danger is, I might eventually come across it anyway. Together, we can have a better chance of winning the fight.

“What do you…” his voice cuts off. I hear him louder this time. He shouldn’t be too far. I pass the road and run toward the sound.

“Nooo…” he screams.

I don’t see anybody in the jungle. I decide to pause and listen to find out his location, I only hear birds calling and insects chirping. A squirrel squashes fallen leaves and jumps on a nearby tree.

I walk to the direction where I think his screams came from. I pull the bear spray out of my belt. This should stop whatever attacking him even if it’s a bear.

I see them now. My hands fly to my mouth at the sight of two men. One is lying on the ground with blood all over his body while another man sits on his chest, attempting something with the bleeding man's head. I step forward to have a better look.

The man turns his head to me. He doesn’t have a mask, and there are red spots all around his face. They don't look like acne or a measles rash. The inflammations on his skin resemble tiny sinkholes.

He is holding onto one of the victim’s eyeballs.

My heart races as a rush of adrenaline surges through my veins.

He stands up and turns his body toward me. His shoulders move up and down as his anger builds up. With an unexplainable hate in his eyes, he charges toward me.

I shake myself to wake up from this nightmare but the reality of the world shudders me one more time.

Think, Matt. It’s time to take action. Your life depends on it.

I wait until he comes a few feet closer to me, then raise the spray bottle and push the trigger with all my strength. The amount of light brown gas blocks my vision. I hear him roaring. I release the trigger and take a few steps back to get a wider view of him.

As the gas fades away, particles of it remain on the man’s face. His eyes are closed, and he is about to lose his balance, but he doesn’t seem to care about the pain or vision loss. He claws his way toward me, grabbing tree branches to support his balance. I move to the right to have a better opening for the second attack. He hears my footsteps and turns to my direction gritting his teeth. I push the trigger again.

I can’t believe he is still able to walk. This spray is known as a bear stopper, but long discharges couldn’t stop this thing.

I run a few yards back and stop. He growls while trying to sense where I am. I see a big piece of rock on the ground and crouch as quietly as possible and grab it. The leaves under the rock crunch as I lift it. He turns to my way and walks faster. I wait for him to get closer.

A strong hit to his head with the rock takes him down. He attempts to stand up with a frightening snarl. I hit his head again, this time even harder. I hear his skull cracking. While he is humming on the ground, I go over him and drop the rock on his head with both hands.

I freeze as I look at his dead body. A shock wave surrounds me.

I take a few steps back and sit against a tree.

It was him or me. I did what I had to do to survive.

I wait until my breathing slows down. It is not safe to stay here. There might be more of this thing.

I walk fast back to my hiding point on the hill while looking back every few steps to make sure nobody is following me.

What I killed wasn’t a human even though his appearance looked like one. I heard a drug called Oxyrica helps the immune system fight the mutated virus. There were reports about this drug making people extremely aggressive. If that’s what created this thing