It's been one hell of a day and I'm still not home. God, what have I gotten myself into?
Alright, let's start off with the morning. I waited a few hours indoors before heading out to the clinic. Maybe I was just dawdling, okay sure. I was dawdling. I probably should have gotten an earlier start on the day. What with already being hours or so late.
I found the gun in the alley, where I dropped it. It's sort of old, I'm surprised it didn't go off from the fall.
I trudged the rest of the walk down the alleyway and found the clinic to be exactly what I expected it to be. A looted, ruined mess.
Some of the windows were smashed, some chairs tipped over, and of course, all the medicine was long gone. I found some condoms in a cabinet. Something that looked like a used tampon in a toilet. Oh, and a Freak hanging off the ceiling.
Yeah. You read that right.
I opened the men's bathroom, stepped in too hastily, got a big whiff of something rotting, and bam, from out of sight, a Freak swings down and knocks me backwards, into the hallway.
I dropped the gun. Really, you think I'd have learned after the first time, but it's alright. I scooped it up and ran. Bolted down the hallway and tripped over some chairs. Which is a good thing, since the trip saved me from being tackled by the shrieking Freak. They're faster than I could hope to out run, and it went flying over me.
I fired a shot off then. Recoil nearly broke my wrist, the shit kicked like a horse. At the time anyway.
I hit the Freak right above the left ankle. Nearly tore the foot off, but not quite. Pretty good, I think now. Not quite as good as a head shot, but shit, it was the first gun I'd ever fired. I can't complain.
Almost missing a foot made it a hell of a lot slower, I swung a left and ended up in front of a room labeled Room 12. I practically flew inside (thank fucking god there wasn't a Freak sleeping in there) and yanked the door closed. The Freak wasn't far off, even with a shattered ankle. It smashed into the door and sent it swinging.
These rooms, it seems, came with your standard lock-less doors, helpful to the most foul of human devouring monstrosities and to the consternation of your standard victim. I.e., me. No, my brain wasn't making all these witty observations at that point, I was too busy screaming and shitting myself.
This was of course, the closest I'd been in conflict with a Freak since the day my parents
Ah, anyways... I then performed the next most logical action. I jumped out the window. It was one of the few windows that still had glass. Took care of that, I used the little doctor-bed clinics are famous for, and dove head first through.
I landed in the shaded parking lot/drive the clinic used. My luck must have been outstanding, I managed to dive through the one window not directly before an automobile. As such, I managed to avoid diving directly into a car's door, or such, and avoided squashing my skull into metal. Which is good. Very good.
The drive way/parking lot is loaded with cars. Actually, all streets are. People were in a hell of a hurry before the end. Rumors and emergency news regarding the infection were running 24/7 on the news and the terrified were fleeing cities in hordes. Traffic congestion was only natural. Many were on the congested roads when night fell that last time. We knew. Whole cities had already been lost at that point, the government wasn't really functioning anymore - soldiers were being moved out, and the situation was pretty bleak. But society was still functioning, on some level, before that night. Then darkness fell, and the Freaks attacked on a scale bigger than anything before. That was the last night of humanity. That was the end.
But shit, I'm getting off topic.
I pushed myself off the ground and took off down the drive through, pushing myself harder than I can ever remember pushing. Behind me, the Freak was still in pursuit, even with it's fucked up ankle, it was still almost upon me. Would have caught me. But I crossed the drive-through gates and ran out into the street first.
The drive-through/parking lot is shaded, due to its location amidst larger buildings. The street is not, and the Freak followed me straight out into broad daylight. And I now know exactly why Freaks are nocturnal.
The thing gave the most pricing, heart-stopping, wretched scream I'd ever heard. I turned around (already almost halfway across the street) and found this thing curled up, its claws were digging into their sides, its head thrown back in an arch, and its eyes were pulled open and possibly ripping in intensity.
Its skin was rapidly crusting and cracking. Shriveling -almost like enhanced aging - and within minutes, all that remained were a set of yellow pale bones, and a rocky gray powder, scattered on the sidewalk.
And that concludes my morning. Minus an hour or so of me crying. Yeah. I cried. I don't know why, but I'm not ashamed either. I kicked the skeleton a bit too. I imagine I might have had a lot of pent up frustration following everything I've been through. The close encounter and subsequent death of the Freak probably helped alleviate my stress. And the adrenaline is good too.
But of course, the day doesn't end there.
I was captured.
A less than friendly fellow came upon me then. Maybe he just happened to see me. Maybe he was lured by my earlier gun shot and the Freak's death wail. Either way, a little less than an hour after my meeting with a Freak, someone dredged out from south, down the main street, and called out to me. They warned they were human before coming into view and then slowly approached.
An adult man, African-American, dressed in casual but dirty jeans and tee, and holding what looked like an assault gun, greeted me grimly. He noted the gun in my hand and the bones piled nearby. Then he told me there was a survivor camp situated in the remains of the school nearby. The school, an elementary grade school I'd once attended, was just across the street. We were on the back side, on a main street that crossed behind the school. The entrance was found on a smaller street two blocks away. He invited me to come and join the survivors.
Then he knocked me out. Caught my from behind with the stock of his weapon.
My bad, I dropped my guard. Tough shit.
I woke up bound and gagged in a dark space. My shoes are gone. At least I still have pants on.
An hour ago, someone came in (maybe the same guy who caught me), saw that I was awake and kicked me in my gut. Promised he'd have me later. Then he left.
Just fucking great...