Monday, March 24, 2014

Day 349 - Untitled Zombie Story Chapter 8 - (1,039 words (= this 388 + 651 published elsewhere))

©Wayne Webb and constantwriting.blogspot.com, 2013. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to Wayne Webb and constantwriting.blogspot.com with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

UNTITLED ZOMBIE STORY

By Wayne Webb
Chapter 8



James woke to the sound of a siren and a dark room. It was nighttime and the windows at the far end of the room were letting in ambient, artificial light into the ward.

He was unsure how long he had been out and because it was dark, and the room was unattended he thought that it might be the time for him to escape wherever he was. The last thing he remembered was a disembodied voice piped in through the speakers and telling him to sleep. Then the world went black until now, and the lights were off, he was in nighttime dark and unsure where he was or what was going on.

James swung his legs around to put them on the ground silently, testing his strength before putting weight on them this time around. Holding the edge of the bed he walked the circuit to the door and tested it, unlocked and responding to his touch with a smooth click as the bolt left the lock.

The door pulled open slowly by his hand allowed him a view up and down the corridor, seeing nothing and no one outside his room, but the noise of people yelling and calling in the distance was now there too. There was no computer or station that told him anything about the patients on the ward, it could have been that he was the only one, but now he was completely alone and with no clue to where he was or why he was there.

Randomly he chose right and turned away from the ward and walked, his feet stepping sideways as he tried to move stealthily and yet still ready to jump into action or flight at a seconds notice.

The noise of the chaos outside the building, he assumed it was anyway, was getting louder and stronger. Maybe the place was under attack? He could not hear sounds of fighting but he could hear shouting and angry, fearful voices being raised in panic. It was a sound he and his brother had got  to know well in the time they had been alone after their remaining family had perished.

Towns, people and even random strangers all got that panicked and frantic tone in their voices when things were a falling apart, and he could hear it now.




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