For Children of Sands

We break our enemies with fear
And we've seen how the tears come around
We built our confidence on wasteland
We've seen how the walls come down

A wall of soaring blue mountains circled an expanse of tall, yellow, dry grass, it was an ocean of pure, molten, flowing gold which was disturbed by the dull lines of grey tarmac. The Lincoln highway seemed to never end, it was an immortal guide to the runaway travellers; the north star flickering in the night sky.

Telephone lines began to sprout through the ocean of gold; a sign of civilisation. Withered billboards stood tall in the early morning sky, vandalised with the grim words “Turn Back, Keep Out Of Hell”. But the notorious travellers ignored them.

A radio muffled voice broke through the serene silence, “Tank Girl to whoever is awake and alive, I repeat, Tank Girl, It’s not too late yet to turn back.”

As Jinxx’s hands were too busy with the steering wheel and Ashley was sprawled on the back seats his eyes shaded by opaque black sunglasses making it impossible to tell if he was awake, Andy picked up the receiver with a sigh and replied, “Legolas here! And I tell you, live a little. This ain’t New York, it can’t been that bad.”

“Oh no you don’t ‘Lassy! You said that last time with Montana, we barely got out of there alive!” Hastily warned CC. Months ago they drove past the welcome sign of Montana with the same words, they had escaped grinning like mad men and drenched in the blood of the parasites, but only with miraculous luck had they managed to escape with their lives.

A trail of overturned hatchbacks, trucks and family cars began to sprawl across the tarmac disturbing Andy’s 100mph wild race and forcing him to break and swerve around the metal heaps. Despite the remains of a crash landing disaster there were no parasites in sight, crawling amongst the ruins. They could only hope that this could be taken as a good sign.

When the vehicles exited the flickering shadows of bridges they were presented with the first glimpse of Salk Lake city. Unlike Ely, there were no desperate posters screaming warnings of the end of the world. Abandoned construction sites and tall beige brick buildings planted their masses amongst empty parking lots, preserved and untouched.

“Told ya! It’s not that bad. We might even find a good place to stay tonight.” Andy cheered as he watched apartment blocks and hotels pass in a blur in the green lush scenery.

“Don’t jinx us Andy!” Ash spoke up from the backseat.

“Hey! Don’t even bring me into this!” Jinxx joked dryly, the humour wasted on the tense atmosphere.

After swerving through looped and knotted highways, power stations along with tall apartment blocks and office buildings began to ruck through the land at the foot of the green sky scraping mountains. Their essence dwarfed the motorways that refused to touch the mortal ground and the urban hive of the city.

The shaded boulevards resembled graveyards and, just as in Ely, there were scorched carcasses, but not fresh skewered parasites. Despite the remains of a brutal massacre the city seemed silent, whether the silent moment was for the dead or the living didn’t matter. If only it held.

The gang split apart again. While Jinxx, CC and Jake rummaged through stores to find amo, gas and food, Andy and Ash carried out a rare routine. In larger cities such as this, a search for survivors would take place. There was always a chance to find a battered and beaten soul clinging onto the remainder of their life. It seemed only fair to help humanity to climb out of the ruins.

The routine seemed simple. Who ever was on the searching squad would split and pick a road then in a given amount of time they would run from house to house, they would take a hasted look through a house then take off to the next. If a survivor were to be found they would be taken back to where the group had been split.

So far, no life had been scavenged.

Walking through these streets was as if looking into the door way of a holocaust museum. You feel the horror of the past, but you don’t feel that your world is part of this.

Andy rushed through the street, glancing from door to door, wincing with every echoing step. Some houses had been left in burned ruins, only a breath of wind away from falling. Many had been left standing and had been left marked with red crosses across the doors. Andy recognised the sign, it meant that the home had been cleansed from the infection. In other words, no one had been left alive.

Only a single house had been left unmarked, it was a family house painted with bright yellows and greens, it seemed to be untouched by the crumbling world on its doorstep. With growing caution Andy advanced to the looming house, his handgun had already been pried out of the holster and the safety flicked off.

The front door was unlocked and opened with a teeth itching creak. Inside, the house had been untouched by time. Thick veils of dust danced in the morning sunlight that fell through the narrow slots created by heavy opaque curtains, . Furniture had been covered with white cloth and the walls had been left bare.

The procession would have taken less time and required less time if Andy could’ve called out to the possible survivors, but there was something that the gang had evolved to understand, something that saved their lives on many occasions; the undead relied on their hearing. As the parasites were animated walking corpses with a peculiar living force inside of them, they still would rot like any other corpse. Unless the parasite was fresh, the eyes would have rotted away and the parasite was a stumbling, blind, cannibalistic scarecrow.

After rummaging through the first floor and finding it empty of life, Andy sauntered to the second floor of the house. It was just as empty, bare of memories of life, scraped of colour. It was in the master bedroom that Andy found a pitiful sight. On the floor lay a corpse, its sides heaving in pain as it tried to reach for him only to fall. It was merely a skeleton with dry, cracked skin draped over its form, showing its fragile bones underneath. A starved parasite unable to leave this place in peace. Without hesitation, Andy gave the pitiful creature a gift of rest.

Outside, a chorus of gunshots echoed in the air. Andy rushed to look out onto the barren street to be met was a peculiar sight. Down the boulevard Ash sprinted with his AR-15 held high in the air and firing shots, he ran as if he was chased by a hoard of hellhounds which were biting at his ankles. It took a moment for Andy realise that what was chasing Ash was worse than a pack of hellhounds.

Meters behind the scampering man, a mass of rotting corpses rushed after him with a unbelievable speed. Their fleshless arms were stretched out in front of them attempting to catch the warm delicious meal which was escaping their reach.

As Ash pounded down the boulevard he shouted, “Guys!” As if the rest of the gang was at his side, “I don’t wanna be Rambo anymore!” He cried out in desperation, it would have seemed comical if not for the sheer terror which seemed to seep from Ash. Just as it seemed that Ash would escape the screaming, scowling hoard, he stopped in the middle of the street, hoisted the AR-15 under one arm and aimed at a metal carcass of a car. The shot was precise but the effect was not instant.

In silence with a stoic expression Ash rushed from the boulevard into a void between two houses. Just as Ash found cover a deafening explosion shuck the neighbourhood, the car which Ash had shot exploded in a flurry of scraps and scorching flares. But the parasites did not feel the heat, they only heard the commotion and thought that it was their large mouthed meal. One by one the parasites ran into the inferno and cooked themselves to the bone, effectively cleansing the world of themselves.

Ashley soon emerged from his hiding, pumping his fists in the air and hollering loudly. Andy couldn’t help but laugh and applaud through the open window and call out the celebrating Deviant, “Hooray to Rambo, the enemy of parasites!” On the boulevard Ash grinned widely and proceeded to bow to his one-manned audience.

We have no sympathy for the lost souls
We've chosen the path of disgrace
We give this life to our children
And teach them to hate this place

Notes