ZombiePalooza - Anthology

#TeamVoodoo Pt. VII - @angerbda's "Knockin' On Heaven's Door"

Knockin' On Heaven's Door 

By angerbda

– 1 –

Come and sip from the cup of destruction...

―Genghis Khan

*-*-*

Somewhere near Lost Bayou,

Few years after the Zombie Outbreak...

She ran for her life. Or so she thought. She was sixteen, she did not want to die.

When she had woken up, this morning, she could not recognize any of her surroundings. It was as she had been waking from a trance. A long, dreamless night. She could not recall a thing except for the feeling of drowning. With the taste of stale water in her mouth, the smell of the swamp clinging to her dress, and the sound of a multitude groaning and moaning deafening, the ingrained fight-or-flight response had been automatic. She had started running the same instant her brain had received the stimuli her senses had picked.

Hiding was not a high priority for the girl. Remaining on land, not tripping and drowning, was what raised her stress level, her anxiety. Her heartbeat was so loud it kept her from earing the surrounding nature. Had she been followed, pursued? She could not answer, her mind set on one task only. Going forward. Running.

The fumes clogging her brain were thick. The exertion her body was submitted to was not letting her rest. Or think. Blood pumped to the max, the noise of her short breath and heightened pulse deafening, her eyes misty with sweat and tears, the girl weakened. Her pace slowing, she stumbled every other steps she took, her feet struggling on the gnarled roots and the slippery path.

One large root marked the end of her crazed race. Mangled in the long and large fingers making the tree base, the girl laid breathless, stunned. A small bump on her head broke her trance. Taking extra care moving her limbs, she observed her surroundings for the first time.

The sun was still high on the sky. Her run had probably not last long. She remembered being woken up by a warm ray of light. It was most likely around noontime, seeing as the sun had pierced through the treetop to caress her. If it had been earlier, or later, the light would have been more diffused.

Her breathing quieting, the girl took on the music of the nature around. Birds were twitting, frogs croaking, and the sweet melody of the wind through the leaves remained undisturbed. No monster lurked in the shadow, the stale water kept its green carpeting smooth and even.

The girl was well and truly lost in this wet, green hell.

She erred in the bayou, hiding in the big roots when she heard noise. Of animal or human origin, she did not know, though it was no use taking any risk, at this point. The day passed as the girl progressed in this wetland. She had not eaten since the morning, and probably not much in the last few days, though she could not remember well, her mind still foggy, her memories clouded by doubt and unrest.

She looked at her surroundings for signs of possible food, some fruits, plants or even critters she could try and eat. She would have preferred to avoid opening the can of peaches stored in the burlap bag she tightly gripped to her shoulder.

The bag was also a mystery. Nothing in it had given her a notion of what had happened before this morning, and except for the food, its content was useless to her. When she woke up, this morning, this bag had been there, lying beside her. Along with the canned fruits, she had found some old clippings of newspapers, a tourist map of a city she never heard about, and bag full of silver quarters.