"This is NYC Survivors HQ speaking. It is 11:21 AM. If you're hearing this, congratulations on still being alive. Today marks the five year anniversary of the massive epidemic. The government has given word that they are now searching for a cure. Please stay positive, and kill every feaster that you can."
I held the walkie-talkie tightly and looked up at the sky as a couple of jets zoomed by. As they zoomed by, they dropped crates that were accompanied by white balloons. They were survival crates. First come, first serve. I have never pursued one. Whenever crates dropped, shots were fired and civilians killed each other over the items. Shots attracted the worst feasters. Most feasters couldn't hear, but the ones that could were the most ferocious and vicious feasters ever. They were faster than the others, and to fight one, you had to have a lot of agility and courage. I've had to take a couple Hearers in my day, all close encounters. Battling feasters wasn't exactly what I would call fun. Some people got off from the adrenaline. Me, myself, I loved to stay in the shadows. Since most feasters couldn't hear, and some were even visually impaired, it was easy to get past them. All you had to do was blend in. Walk slow, look dumb.
Survivor groups were spread all across New York. The Empire State Building was where the Survivors HQ was located. They were basically the rich people who weren't worried about a thing. They lived on the very top floor of a skyscraper. I heard that helicopters came and landed on the building to supply them with supplies. One thing about the Survivors HQ, they kept everyone notified. If you didn't have a walkie-talkie then you were out of the loop. Walkie-talkies were really the only means of communication from a distance. Cell phones didn't work and were absolutely useless. So the Survivors HQ kept the rest of the survivors informed. They told us all of the latest news, and the time, and even gave us pretty shitty tips. I always got a laugh from their tips. They acted like they were running and trying to escape feasters, but they were actually sipping on champagne and telling hilarious stock market stories. It was like a very long camp out for them.
Other than Survivors HQ, there were other groups. The biggest one where I resided, Lower Manhattan, was the Unity Tower. Uniters walked around with black bandanas around their heads or faces. When things went to shit, and the military came with their guns and died, the Uniters ran into the midst of the feasters and got most of their weaponry. They were armed to the tee, but they weren't bad people. They didn't hurt innocent survivors. Even though, there were peaceful groups, there was also malicious ones. Groups that would kill innocent survivors and loot off their bodies. Groups that were cannibals. The most known group to stay away from was the Bloodspill Tribe. Pretty straight forward. They wore red bandanas, and mostly red clothing. Whenever I saw one, I made sure to hide or either sneak up on them and slit their throat with a pocket knife. It was survival of the fittest. Many people traveled in groups, good or bad, but I decided to go solo. Groups slowed you down, and guaranteed for you to be killed.
I heard shots rang out in the air, but they seemed distant. The area I was walking in was relatively safe. There were certain parts in New York City that were vacant of feasters. No one knew why. It seemed like feasters migrated together. If an area had feasters, then it was very populated, but if it didn't, then it was basically a safe zone. The worst thing about safe zones was that most people lived there. Which meant they were hunting grounds for groups like Bloodspill. For that reason, I clung onto the backpack on my back, and quickly walked down the middle of the street. Usually, I spent the night on rooftops of apartment buildings. It was a long climb, but it was worth the safety. The only reason I was in the safe zone, most commonly called, Area B, was because I needed some supplies. There were a couple of traders, but I dealt mostly with an old lady named Margret. She lived on the second floor of one the rundown apartments. The woman was the closest thing I had to family. I wasn't sure where my parents were, because when the whole thing went down, they were at work. I was at school. All the kids were crying and trying to get in touch with their parents. I was only sixteen at the time. Me and my best friends gave each other one last hug, and decided to set out to find our parents alone. I'm not sure what happened to them, or my parents. I've never got back in contact with anyone I knew after the ordeal. I just assumed that they were gone. Either feasters, or truly dead.
Knocking on the apartment door, I looked down the hall to check my surroundings. You never knew when a Bloodspiller would pop up. Safe zone or not, and even if it was a safe zone, there still was a chance of a straggler feaster coming to eat off of survivors. The door swung open and the skinny old lady appeared. Her frail frame was hunched over, and her long gray hair fell down to her butt. She gave me a sweet smile and pulled me into a hug. "Where you've been, girl? I haven't seen you in at least two weeks." For just a small, weak-looking woman, she gave the tightest and warmest hugs. I smiled and pressed my chin against her shoulder before slowly pulling away. She pulled me into her home, and closed the door. "Are you hungry, sugar?"
"Yes, ma'am," I replied honestly. My stomach grumbled just at the mention of something to eat. I scoped out the room with all the antique furniture. On the wall, hung a picture of Margaret and her five children. The only one still surviving was Rick, who was one of the main people who kept Area B controlled. Regulators were almost like the police, except there weren't really any laws enforced. They just made sure everyone was getting enough food, water, and blankets. They provided protection as well. I sat down on the plastic-covered couch and stared at the non-working television. I sure could use some entertainment right now. As if on cue, Margaret handed me a bowl of brown liquid. I wasn't sure what it was, and I never asked. I just ate, or rather, slurped. I thanked her quietly and inserted a spoonful into my mouth. Soon I was basically drinking from the bowl. The old lady chuckled as she sat down in her rocking chair. "Have you heard the announcement," I asked once I was finished slurping the liquid.
Margaret nodded her head and let out a sigh. "It's about damn time. I just want things to get back to normal. They have us caged in like animals. Each state has walls that seems to be mountains high to make sure none of the feasters get in. If they really wanted to, they could rescue us. But child, answer me this, how did this happen? How did only this state get infected by only the good Lord knows what?" I chewed on my bottom lip as I thought about the question. "Exactly, you don't know. I don't know. Only the government knows. My theory is that all of this is a way to decrease the population."
"But why," I asked with brows furrowed. "Why would the government do that? It means that they receive less taxes. Once all of this is over, they'll have to shell billions into the state to get it back remotely like it was. All of this would just be a waste of money. Plus, it's not only our government. I don't see any other countries trying to lend a helping hand." Margaret nodded and stopped rocking in her chair. She stood up slowly on her wobbly legs, and took the bowl from me.
"You're a very smart young lady," she said as she walked back into the kitchen. She placed the bowl in the sink, "But I know you didn't just come here to talk to an old lady."
"Old? Please, you're like 27." Margaret laughed so loud and hard that she had a coughing fit. I began to feel bad for making the woman laugh. "Are you okay?"
"Girl, you're a trip." She waved me off, and walked towards her closet. "Dear, for that laugh, you get everything on the house. The usual, right?"
"Yes, ma'am."
There was a lot of shuffling and banging around. I caught myself staring at a stuffed owl in her living room. The owl was staring right into my soul and I quickly casted my eyes away. Creepy. "Here you go, baby. Cigarettes. A lighter. And, two bottled waters that have been boiled." I thanked the woman and quickly lit a cigarette. It's been about a week since my last smoke. The shakes were starting to get me. I took off my backpack and put the items into my backpack, before taking a puff of the toxic substance. "Also sweetheart, did I tell you that Rick and his boys managed to get a loot crate?" I raised my brows at the woman in surprise, as I let the smoke escape my lungs and lips. Margaret went back to the closest and came back. In her hands she held a pack of Skittles. My heart fluttered. "I made sure to save something for my favorite girl." I quickly stood up and pulled Margaret into the tightest hug. I almost forgot candy had existed. She chuckled and coughed from the fumes of the cigarette. I took the Skittles from her, and exhaled.
"I should be going, Margaret. I promise I'll be here in another week, okay? Please, be safe. Tell Rick that it's really good that he managed to get a loot crate."
"Honey, I don't go anywhere. I stay in my apartment. You're the one who should stay safe, okay? Don't let those feasters get you, baby." I smiled a bit and gave Margaret one last hug, before walking out of her apartment. I heard the lock click almost instantly when I shut the door. One thing about Margaret, she wasn't taking any risks. She was an old woman who still valued life. If anything motivated me to keep surviving, it was Margaret. She made me feel like there was still hope out there, and not just feasters.
Before I could exit the building, I heard a bunch of screaming and then there were gunshots. My heart began racing, and I dared to peek my head out of the front door of the apartment. I quickly moved my head away from the door, when I saw a bunch people with red bandanas. With the weaponry that the Bloodspillers had, they would have this place invaded in minutes. I had to warn Margaret.
I ran up the stairs as fast as I could and began banging on the door. "Margaret, it's me! It's Maeve!" I put out my cigarette and threw it on the dirty hallway floor. The door swung open, the old woman pulled me in, and then closed the door quickly. She locked all of the locks that she had on her door. "Margaret, we've got to get out of here. The Bloodspillers are out there. They'll have this place taken over in minutes." Margaret stared at me in shock. I shook the old woman. "Please, Margaret. Don't space out on me. We need to go!" She blinked a couple of times and then a look of determination fell on her face. She rushed to the closet and I followed her. She grabbed a duffle bag and began throwing her supplies into it. I helped her to hurry the process. The gunshots were getting closer and so were the screams. "That's all that fits! We have to go," I told her. I zipped up the duffle bag, and slung it over my shoulder. I headed for the door, but saw the old woman running into the kitchen. She grabbed a kitchen knife, but also something else. A pistol. She tossed it to me and I caught it. I swallowed hard, and began unlocking the locks on the door. My heart was beating rapidly and I could feel the blood running through my veins. I was so used to only protecting myself, but now I had a feeble old lady along with me. Behind me, she was saying prayers of forgiveness and mercy on both of our souls.
I ran down the stairs, and looked back to make sure Margaret was following behind me. She was. Once, we got down the steps, I headed for the front exit, but Margaret called out to me. "The back way is safer," she told me. I nodded, and ran in front of her to take the lead. We exited out the back door, and I looked around our surroundings. There was pandemonium. People were running across the streets screaming for help as they were shot down by the Bloodspillers. Mothers. Fathers. Children. Grandparents. "Ma-Maeve, I won't make it," Margaret said to me.
"Don't say that, Margaret! We've got this! Me and you!" I grabbed her hand but she snatched it away from me. "Please, Margaret! Staying here would be suicide!"
"I'm 87 years old. I can't run like you can. I can't jump and I surely can't fight. I'll be fine. I'll stay in my apartment with the doors bolted shut. I'll contact you by walkie-talkie once everything is fine, okay? Be safe, dove." I wanted to argue with her, but Margaret was right. Staying in her apartment would be suicide, but so would trying to escape at her age. I pulled Margaret into one last hug, and kissed her cheek.
"Be safe, Margaret." With that said, I began bolting down the street. I looked back to see Margaret going back into her building by the backway. In the front, I saw a Bloodspiller about to enter. Fuck. I aimed the pistol that Margaret had given me. I've never held a gun before, let alone shot one. Though, I pulled the trigger. I didn't hit the man, but I got his attention. He started running towards me, rather than aiming his gun at me. I pulled the trigger once again, yet again missing. The man was gaining in on me. Finally, I took a deep breath and steadily aimed the gun at the man's head. He was only a foot away from me when I pulled the trigger again. He fell down to his knees with a shocked expression. I began panting, but I knew it wasn't the time or the place to have a panic attack. Since I shot the man in the head, his brain was most likely damaged. I kicked him to make sure he was dead, and nothing happened. Bending down, I began looting his body. I managed to get a couple dollars of cash. By his body was a military rife. I swiped the gun, and began taking off in the direction opposite of the shots.
I ran and ran, and ran until I was nearly out of breath. Suddenly, my legs came to a stop. I had cleared Area B, and was now in an unsafe zone. This definitely wasn't a place to take a rest. I bent down and took in loud, deep breaths. Suddenly, an arm wrapped around my waist, and a hand covered my mouth. I tried to scream, but my screams only came out muffled. "Shut the fuck up. I'm a good guy," the raspy voice said. The person definitely didn't sound like a good guy, they sounded like a girl actually. "There's a Hearer lurking around," the anonymous person whispered in my ear.
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Maeve on the side. Just wanted to show you guys what I'm working on. I may not update frequently for this right now, but I will in the future. Slow updates for now.