Take Me Home • h. styles ✔

18 | The Phenomenon

     “Yeah. Run like it’s your last chance to live. I got it, I’m ready,” I told him fictitiously, trying to prove to him that I was someone whom he could count on.

     He nodded in response and the two of us made our way out of our place of retreat. There was absolutely no turning back at this point, and soon enough, Mike led the way by making his slow but careful steps towards the building. With only a gun in my hand and the customized leather jacket providing momentary protection from possible future deadly nibbles, I braced myself forward following his lead.

     With every step, sudden senses of fear ran through my nerves like the chill of the icy morning wind that caressed my face. According to Mike, who claimed himself to be one of the people involved in the first clinical trials for patients given with a so called biological warrior cell, they made initial assumptions that generally, the Infected were technically blind, and just like in any other zombie movies made, they would only rely on their sense of smell. With that being said, the only thing that would trigger their attacks would be the delicious aroma of the human blood. The second thing to consider was their strong sense of hearing as well, and that’s why shooting bullets could be a bad thing to do. It was quite cliché to think, but he also wondered why some of these Monsters could be quite alarming even just seeing a tiny point of light, and he came to a conclusion that the cell had caused quite a variety of results among the Infected.

     And just like what I had experienced in the past, they seemed to think on their own, and Mike agreed with my observations. He assumed that as time went by, given the fact that it had been five months at least, the cell might have had caused certain kinds of mutations that were just difficult to explain at the moment. That’s why we’re here in the first place, and that’s to find answers to all of these phenomena. Given all of these unpredictable behavior of the Infected, our chances of being noticed as we carried on to walk forward were absolutely great, and that’s something not to be happy about. To simplify things, anything is possible, and we were hoping that the ones we were looking right now were those who had a weak sense of sight and smell, as well as those who only move by their slow shambles with their broken limbs.

     “Just a few more steps. How are you Harry?” Mike turned and whispered to me, and I only gave him a weak smile and a slight nod to indicate my state.

     My head was all over the place, but I tried to focus on saying little prayers to Him, asking for our safety. Although I couldn’t quite concentrate, for heaps of dead and rotting bodies were dispersed all throughout the outer premises of Schmidt, and our handkerchiefs were not doing enough to conceal the overpowering whiff of the dead. Okay, I was wrong. Where is Zayn when I needed him? I would do anything to smell his perfumes again, or even just Louis’ sweaty scent after having a whole day’s football practice. Those were so much better than smelling these corpses, there’s no doubt about that.

     After a few more steps, our feet finally touched the small portions of a marbled floor where a massive glass door had a gap big enough for the two of us to enter. The first stage of this adventure finally ended, and thank God that the small number of Infected shambling and devouring the dead bodies’ flesh outside didn’t notice our entry. As we made it inside, I was astounded by the splendor of the place – where everything was virtually made out of glass, accentuated with the whitest granite floors and walls that surround the empty hallways. Although, what’s disappointing was the fact that they were stained with marks of blood, indicating the horrific episodes that once happened here during the assaults.