The Last Legends: A Novella

Morgan

The gunshots lasted barely a moment, and, knowing the dangers of the world first hand, feared the worst. After having seen Infected moving about in the daylight not long ago, it only seemed likely that they would begin to attack survivors. 

Survivors.

That single word echoed in my mind. Survivors. Other people. Were they still, though? Other people? Or had they joined the ever-increasing hordes of Infected. It was impossible to determine their fate from merely the sounds of gunfire. The silence could mean they were dead, or that they were relatively safe. Maybe they had run out of bullets and were putting up a fight with another weapon, or even their hands and feet!

I only knew of one way I could determine the fate of the human, and it was one which could likely cost me my life: I would search for them. I would not scour the entirety of the city, as that could take the entirety of my remaining life when searching entirely on foot. Instead, I would keep a keen eye out for any signs of life on the path I would have taken before the shots were fired. If I discovered them, then it was simply fate.

With more caution than I would have normally had, I set out, looking down every street and scanning every building foor signs of life. Several times that morning I encountered the dog, at least, I assumed it was the same dog as it was of the same appearance. 

Every time I encountered the dog, I would kneel and attempt to coax it toward me. And, every time, it would run back the direction from which I had come. Yet, the next time I saw it, it would always be in front of me again. 

If I wasn't weighed down by food and on a mission, I likely would have followed the dog. But I couldn't spend the precious time and energy on something I know would only exhaust me. So, every time, I continued forward.

Not overly long after what I guessed to be noon, I heard heavy footsteps, and a bunch of them at that. I didn't have the skill to determine precisely how many there were, even when I did that weird ear-to-the-ground trick. Still, there were far too many of them to be survivors. It was a horde of Infected by all likelihood.

Realizing they were approaching me, I ducked between to buildings, not wanting to risk the sound of me forcing a door open. I ran to the end of the alley, only to realize I could go no further. With shaky hands, I removed my bag and raised the barrel of my gun so that it was pointing straight back the direction I had run from. 

The alley was thin enough that, if I was lucky, I would just have to drop a couple of Infected in the same spot before they were piled too high for their companions to climb over. That was my best bet. It was that or die.

The first person passed, looking enough to pass as human from the distance between us. Then several more, all sorts of ages among them. A few more in, and there was someone carrying a body over his shoulder, bound and the head covered. The head, I noted, was too close to the body of the man carrying it, even if bound and gagged. Infected were too dangerous for that. So, either they were idiots, or it was a human being carried.

A girl walked next to them, talking, though the words were incomprehensible by the time they reached me. Five more followed behind, before leaving the view devoid of life once again. 

I waited until the count of twenty before I re-shouldered my bag and set off, despite my instincts, in the direction they had traveled. As I left my little alley, I saw them rounding a building. With gritted teeth, I trudged after them. I had to know who they were.

I followed them for close to an hour when they entered an office building. I clung to the side of one and waited until it was beginning to get dark, at which point, I closed the distance to the neighboring building and pushed the door of the closest one open. I entered, locking the door behind me, even though the glass wouldn't do much.

Figuring that if the building was so close to survivors it would have been cleared of Infected, I climbed to the top floor and looked into the windows across the street. With no lights on inside and the glare of the sun, I could just barely make out the outlines of the furniture inside, in addition to one mass wriggling about on the ground. 

As I was watching, someone came in and dropped something on the ground, food, if my guess was accurate. The figure crawled over and began to eat while the deliverer left, shutting the door behind them.

When the figure was done, it crawled back over and stared out the window, apparently not seeing me. I changed my gaze to the other floors as that happened, only to discover I could see even less.

I spent the remainder of the day watching the figure in the window, who only sat slumped against the wall, staring out the window. After dark fell, sounds began to come from outside, faint and barely audible, but different from the noises of the infected.

At that time, with my bag and gun still over my shoulder, I made my way to a room on the second floor of the building. The sound was clearer now, but only became comprehensible once I pressed my ear to the window, though most of it was still drowned out. Had the city not fallen and noise pollution still dominated day and night, I never would have heard anything.

"Why can't we just kill him now?" Came one voice. There was a second voice, probably that of a female, but I could not understand a word. 

"He's dangerous!" Returned the first voice, much louder than it had previously been. "He's killed how many of us? I say we let him loose on a pack of Deads. Why wait? Two days gives him time to break free!"

The other voice returned, this time somewhat comprehensible. "But the longer we wait, the more that gather. The more that gather, the harder it is for him." The voice continued after for some time, but the rest I failed to understand.