Before It Fades (The Eva Series #3)

Chapter Four

I turned and ran just as the light moved closer and the voice grew nearer. I ran as fast as my legs could take me, struggling to stay on the worn tyre tracks in the midst of darkness. As I pushed one leg in front of the other, I tried not to think about what was happening to Priya. I tried not to think about how I was alone in the middle of nowhere, hardly able to see the path in front of me. I tried not to think about how I had no weapons, no food, no mode of transport to get me to Sydney alive. I pushed all those thoughts away, knowing if I dwelled on them for more than a second, I would surely collapse under their weight. I couldn’t let that happen, not after everything Priya had risked to get me out. I had to keep going.
An hour later, I’d slowed my pace to a brisk walk, wanting to conserve my energy as much as possible. I took the water bottle Priya had given me out of the satchel and took a sip. It had a sweet taste to it, refreshing me instantly. I wanted to down the whole bottle then and there, but I knew I had to drink it slowly and make it last. I didn’t know when I’d find water again.
I went over my plan out loud, wanting to cement it into my mind. “Okay, Eva. Find a weapon. Eat some food. Get a car. Go to Sydney.” It wasn’t the most complicated of to-do lists, but each task was as vital to my survival as oxygen. And in the eerily silent and seemingly endless night, the sound of my voice comforted me.

Every now and then, my mind wandered to my friends. I thought about where they might be, if they were already in Sydney, if they were even still alive. I worried about what I would do if I made it to the rescue ship only to find they weren’t there. Would I get on the ship? How could I leave knowing that they were still trapped, still in danger? No matter how sweet freedom from this wasteland would be, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I knew I’d abandoned my friends. I rubbed a hand over my face, trying to wipe those thoughts away. It wasn’t the time to be worrying about that, I had to stay focused.
The sun started to rise over the horizon, illuminating the landscape just enough for me to see the highway up ahead. I veered right, heading towards the road that would lead me to Sydney.
As dawn broke and the surrounding scenery became tree-lined and full of greenery, I realised I’d left the cracked earth of the outback behind me for good. Soon, I came across the construction site of a newly established housing estate. It looked as though building had just began when they were hit, with one short street of six houses, only three of which were finished. Out of those three, just one house looked lived in – judging by the basketball ring in the driveway and the furniture visible through the wooden planks that were boarding the front window. I stood in the street for a moment, watching and listening carefully for any signs of movement.

Once I was confident that I was alone, I walked down the freshly laid cobblestone path to the front door and slowly turned the handle. Thankfully, it was unlocked, and I entered the home with hope that I might find a weapon and something to eat. I went straight to the kitchen, my stomach rumbling in anticipation. But the empty cereal boxes and food cans strewn all over the counter wasn’t a good sign. It looked like I wasn’t the first hungry straggler to seek refuge there. I opened the cupboards, hoping something had been spared, and to my surprise I found two bottles of water, a can of lentils and a half-empty jar of peanut butter.
“Better than nothing,” I said to myself, glad to have found something to satisfy my hunger. I slid the findings into my bag and began my search for a weapon. The kitchen drawers had been raided, not a single knife remained. I scanned the room, looking for anything I could use. A few leftover planks of wood sat on the dining table, next to it was a set of nails and a hammer. I walked over and picked up the hammer, knowing it would be enough to at least give me a fighting chance. I was about to head upstairs to check for any other weapons when I noticed the door into the garage slightly ajar, and I nudged it open. Daylight shone through into the dark room from another door exiting into the yard, and I wanted nothing more than to see a car in there, but it was empty. I sighed before climbing up the stairs, turning into the bathroom first. A pool of dried blood stained the otherwise white tiles, and I tried not to imagine what might have happened there.

As I turned to leave, I caught my reflection in the bathroom mirror and gasped. I froze, staring at the glass as my eyes took in the sight of me. A row of stitches sat above my right eyebrow, the skin around it fading from red to purple and back again. A gash on my bottom lip looked swollen and sore, and my neck still had a bruised hand print around it from when Elliot had me pinned against the wall of his secret bunker. My shoulder looked as bad as it felt; covered in a bandage that was dotted in spots of blood, black and blue around the borders. I looked like a mess and my body ached, but I was alive. That was all that mattered.
I left the bathroom and headed down the hall to explore the other rooms, but I caught a glimpse of something out a window that made me stop in my tracks. I peered out into the yard below to see six figures moving in the shadow of the house. I knew what they were by the way they moved, dragging their rotting feet and stumbling around. I spun on my heels to leave, only to see one of them standing at the base of the stairs, looking up at me menacingly.
I stood on the landing, holding the hammer ready, waiting for it to come to me. I knew I had to kill it quickly and quietly or risk alerting his friends in the yard to my presence. I didn’t stand a chance fighting off all of them.
I had to get out of there, and that zombie was standing in my way.

The hammer started to shake in my hand as I waited for the zombie to make its move. We’d only been in our standoff for a second, but it already felt like hours.
A low gurgle echoed from its stomach, causing disgusting grey foam to drip out of its black lips. It began stumbling up the stairs fast, triggering me into action. I stepped down, meeting it halfway and smacking the back of the hammer into its skull, cracking the decaying shell wide open. Its arms were still trying to latch onto me, so I pulled the hammer out and smacked it down again, jumping back when its entire prefrontal cortex fell onto the carpet. It stopped groaning and collapsed onto the floor into a bag of bones. It was dead, but it didn’t go quietly. I had no doubt the group in the yard would have heard it. I flicked the hammer in the air to get the leftover grey matter off of it before leaping over the bannister and running out the front door.
I ran down the path towards the road just as the horde came around the side of the house, spotting me and giving chase. My shoulder stung with each swing of my arms and my legs felt weak, but I didn’t stop. I knew I’d never be able to take on six zombies with just a hammer. I had two choices: run, or die.
“C’mon, Eva,” I said to myself, trying to motivate my body to move faster. “Keep going. You can do it.”
I could hear groans as they followed behind, hunting me like their prey.
But even in my weakened state, I knew I could be faster than them.
All I had to do was keep going and never look back.

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