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The Last Man Alive II


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Here is the sequel to one of my previous stories. It will, this time, be split into chapters with one being uploaded every day, hopefully. Forgive me, as I sometimes write in an archaic way. Without further introduction, here is Chapter I.

The Last Man Alive II

CHAPTER I: HOW I ESCAPED

As we left off, I was trapped in my house on top of Street Hill, in Somerset. That was where I wrote my first account. I wasn’t sure if I was going to make it out alive, now that I am here; I have decided to continue my journal, to recount this catastrophe for future generations.

I suppose it’s ironic that, as I write this, on the 21st of December, humanity’s domination of the world is slowly breathing its last breaths. I have learned a lot of the origin of the horrendous plague and of the fate of the people who created it. All of this I shall explain to reader in due time.

My story stopped as I was awaiting my death in my house. I remember that I had a P-90 with a full clip, some whiskey and a cigarette. I waited for two days until a drunk the whiskey and then I estimated it to be another two days until my death. I considered committing suicide multiple times, but I convinced myself that help was coming. Help didn’t come. Instead I created a makeshift rope from some wire and bed-sheets that I had. At night, I hung them out of the window. As I slid down, the bed-sheets came off and I cut my wrists badly. This attracted them, and I was forced to jump the remaining few feet.

They jumped down after me and half them were dismembered by the fall, and yet, even without legs they still came after me. I quickly wrapped my arms in some of the bed-sheets and ran with my P-90. I ran for hours, how many I can’t remember. Apparently, I ran into Bridgewater, a good 25 miles away, and collapsed. Luckily, some survivors found me and took me in. The next thing that I remember is waking up in a bed behind a heavily fortified door. I went downstairs, and I found that I was in Bridgwater Police Station. It was here that I met two people, who would become my companions, Captain Lucy Brown and Sergeant Jack Billington.

They were both members of the military who took refuge after their armoured squad was overrun by the horde. Lucy was about 25, fair-haired, thin and about 5’ 7”. Jack was younger, although he has not told me his age yet, black haired, thin but he was taller than me, about 6’ 8”. When I came down they were sipping lukewarm coffee and gazing out of the window. They were not talking, but you could tell that they needed each other’s company. I walked up to them and greeted them;

“Hello” I said.

“Hi” said Jack, not really bothered.

“Hi” said Lucy.

“Thanks for taking me in” said I.

“No problem. Who are you?” said Lucy.

“I’m Harry Stone” said I, “who are you?”

“I’m Captain Lucy Brown, that’s Sergeant Jack Billington. We were part of an armoured division, but we were overran. We came here, we were the only survivors.”

“Those ruddy things just clawed them to death.” said Jack, looking, morbidly, into the distance.

“What about you?”

“I was with some of your comrades from the station in Wells. We were holed up in my house, but I -“ I paused. I didn’t want to say that I sacrificed them, “- we were overrun as well. They told me to go, ‘cause I was a civvy. I ran and ran until I got here. What do you plan to do?”

“We’re goin’ to RNAS Yeovilton, to catch a helicopter away from here.” said Lucy, in a confident tone.

“It’s no use. They’re everywhere back that way. I was heading westward, to Cornwall. There must be some boats Plymouth way.” said I.

“Right then. We’ll come with you. Better chance of finding someone in power anyway.” said Lucy.

“What in the hell are going to take? We ain’t got anything, if go out there, they’ll f*** us over.” said Jack.

“Don’t be such a bloody defeatist.” said Lucy, visibly irritated, “He’s like this all the time. It really does my ‘ead in!”

With that exchange, we set off. Lucy wanted to get to Minehead by the evening, that’s 26 miles in about a half an hour. Nevertheless, we stocked up food and I was given more rounds for my P-90 and we set off. We travelled in a military jeep, Jack was on the rear-mounted machine gun and I was in the back, tasked with shooting enemies who came from behind. Lucy was driving.

We travelled down the A-39, weaving through abandoned cars and their dead occupants. We came across few of them, apparently, they were all further westward or northward. Although one gave me a nasty gash across my face. It stretched from the top of me left cheek all the way up to the top of my right eye. It must’ve been about a half an inch deep, maybe even an inch! I also noticed that some dust off of it rubbed off into my wound. That becomes more important later.

It was starting to get darker and we were forced to go to Watchet which is about two or three miles away from Minehead. Watchet is a little port town, facing into the Severn Channel. It’s main attraction is the West Somerset Railway which connects Bishop’s Lydeard and Minehead. The unusual thing about it is that it is a steam train.

We pulled into town and parked up in a seaside car park. We broke into a hotel and went to the very top floor. We decapitated the few of them that we saw, and settled in a room that we heavily fortified. We didn’t switch on a light for fear of attracting them. We supped on a meal of cold baked beans and some water that we had collected from a burst main pipe. Oddly, it never occurred to us that the taps might be working, we were overtaken by the idea that it would be your stereotypical scenario. As in, no electricity, water, gas, fuel, etc.

I was very sick that night. It must have been the horror of seeing all of those dead decomposing bodies. I couldn’t sleep either, none of us could, every single creek in the floors put us on edge. We thought that the Grim Reaper was slowly coming our way, sniffing us out and then sending his minions to strike us down and drag us down into the molten depths of hell.

It was decided that one of us would stay guard for two hours and then rotate. It was my turn first and I decided to take a table from the room and use that for cover, luckily, nothing happened. When my two hours were up, Lucy came out, and I finally managed to descend into an uneasy sleep.

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  • 4 weeks later...

I think it is really good and can't wait untill you post the next chapter. There is somthink about the way that it is written that really seems to show the trials of the characters, I do however think that the narative touches very little on how the characters actually feels as a little bit of critesisum. All I can think of though and am really looking forward to the next chapter.

-Flareon

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