The Zombie Apocalypse: Waking up in a Warehouse

The Zombie Apocalypse: Waking up in a Warehouse

The warm bubbles soothed my aching muscles from a hard day of work. I was never much for hard labor, neither was I much of an office type of guy. And now, the fruits of my labor after all these years was my family, the house, and this hot tub. My solitude. These warm jets are something that I look forward to each day after the kids go to bed.

grunt

What was that? I thought as I leaned forward, turning my head in each direction. Confident that I must be hearing things, I sank back down into the bubbling abyss. Where was I? Oh, yes…

scratch, scratch GROWL

“Oh, my head.” I said as I slowly peeled back my eyelids. “I guess I was having a good dream of being back home in my old blue hot tub”. Too bad I had to wake up.

Grunt.

“Is..is someone there?” I panicked as I stammered to my feet. I tipped over once–catching myself with the other foot. I was never good at waking up fast. I’ve always been a slow mover in the morning. It was still dark out. The full moon shone above, which was nice because it allowed me to see for a good distance.

Wonder how long till the sun comes up, I thought as I sat back down on my green military style cot. Off on the other side of the building, I heard this scratching sound again.

“Oh no!” I whispered loudly, as I suddenly felt more awake than ever. Must be the adrenaline kicking in. My fight or flight response–at its finest–was going to guide me once again towards survival. One, or more, of those things is out there, trying to get in. They must have smelled me.

I looked around, squinting my eyes so I could see better. I had a flashlight, but light attracts them too. I don’t want to be seen! It always seems like, where there is one flesheater, there are a bunch watching. Waiting. Hungry for flesh.

A flashback of my wife and children burned brightly into my mind’s eye. I shuddered at the thought of helplessly watching their flesh being ripped from their bodies, one bite at a time. There were just too many flesheaters around. I couldn’t save them, could I? I tried. But I couldn’t reach them in time. Then, the only way for me to survive was to leave them behind to their fate.

I began to sob like a little girl as my head dipped into my open hands.

SMASH! A window at the other side of the warehouse broke in. Followed by numerous grunts.

As I listened to them poring in through the broken glass, I thought, I have to pull myself together here. For my wife. And kids. They would want me to push forward. Wouldn’t they?

My mind raced as I twirled around in several circles. I began to to get dizzy, when I remembered the stairwell. When I first got here, I scoped the place out, looking for possible escape routes. The stairwell came to mind. I bolted straight for it, leaving all of my supplies behind. No time to grab anything, I thought as I began to climb the stairs.

Those zombies must have heard me clambering up the steps as I groped for the life giving air, unable to fill my lungs to capacity. Their tones changed. They almost sounded…excited. It sort of reminds me of how my son sought after milk when he was born. He needed to eat, when he needed to eat. And, when he knew that his mother was within reach, he got excited. Elated.

Their pace increased, and they were almost on me now. Why had I waited so long to get up? The vision of my wife screaming for me as I ran out of our house came back to haunt me once again. She hates me. I know it. I thought, as I picture her in heaven being comforted by a loving God.

The stairwell was at the end of the warehouse, on the right hand side. I climbed these steps earlier for a brief second just to make sure that there were no zombies up there waiting for me. Why had I chosen this place? The outside was a sea of glass windows, waiting to be smashed in when I fell asleep. I know better than this.

I was halfway up the stairs when I turned around to see how many were chasing me. To my surprise, there were just three of them. I’ve handled more than that, I thought as I began to turn around. But as I was about halfway I noticed something. Something eerie. The zombie eyes were glowing in the dark. Or, maybe it was just the reflection off of the full moon.

Why was this so strange to me? Does it  matter that I could see their shark eyes from where I was? If anything, maybe this was useful to me. I know where they are. Man, are they moving fast or what? I thought as I began to take the stairs two at a time.

I hadn’t gone up more than a few stairs when the front of my right foot hit the step, instead of landing firmly on it. I stumbled and smacked my face on the corner of the second to last step. As I turned around, I heard a snarl. They were starting up the steps now. “Oh, ma nothe. I dink ith broken,” I stammered as I tried to get back up on my feet.

My face and head ached now. I couldn’t move fast any longer. I had to rely solely on my wits–what was left of them. I had to find a spot to hide in, fast. I finally got to the top of the stairs. I didn’t turn around to see where the flesheaters were. And really, I didn’t care. All that mattered now was finding somewhere to hide.

“Where can I go?” I asked in absolute desperation? I started to the right, checking the doors as I walked. So far, they were all locked.

snarl

I looked behind me, and less than 15 feet away were three flesh eating zombies.

To be continued. Part 2.

Comments

  1. eeek! Hope there is an escape route

  2. Only time will tell!

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