Chapter 1: After The End
566 Words
One hundred and sixty-three years later, nobody remembered the woman's name.
Nobody remembered the city either.
The ruins had been given a new name by the people who lived among them.
The Dead City.
Elias Voss preferred the older name.
He had found it in a book.
New York.
He didn't know what the name meant.
He only knew that people had once lived there.
Millions of them.
Now there were trees growing through buildings.
Vines covered subway entrances.
Rusted vehicles sat abandoned beneath layers of dirt.
Entire streets had disappeared beneath forests.
Elias moved carefully through the remains.
His boots sank into wet soil.
Rainwater dripped from the hood of his jacket.
He stopped beside an overturned truck and listened.
Nothing.
That was the problem with the Dead City.
It was never truly silent.
There was always something.
Wind moving through broken windows.
Metal shifting in old buildings.
Animals hiding beneath collapsed streets.
And sometimes...
voices.
Elias checked the small device strapped to his wrist.
07:43.
His water supply was low.
His food was lower.
He had spent six days searching this part of the city and had found almost nothing useful.
Then he saw the supermarket.
The roof had collapsed, but part of the building remained standing.
He approached.
The faded sign above the entrance was almost impossible to read.
FRESH MART
Elias smiled.
"Please have something left."
He entered.
The smell hit him immediately.
Wet concrete.
Mold.
Rot.
He covered his mouth.
His flashlight swept across empty shelves.
Nothing.
He moved deeper.
A rusted shopping cart lay on its side.
A child's shoe sat beneath it.
Elias stopped.
He hated finding things like that.
They made the ruins feel less like ruins.
He picked up the shoe.
Small.
Pink.
Probably belonging to a girl who had never grown old enough to replace it.
He placed it back where he'd found it.
Then he heard the sound.
Drip.
Elias froze.
Drip.
Water.
Probably.
He waited.
Nothing.
He raised his rifle.
"Show yourself."
No answer.
He moved toward the sound.
At the end of the aisle, something moved.
Elias swung the flashlight.
Nothing.
He lowered the rifle slightly.
A mistake.
Something rushed across the aisle behind him.
Elias spun.
His heart slammed against his ribs.
The flashlight beam caught only a fragment.
A hand.
Too pale.
Too long.
Then darkness.
Elias backed toward the entrance.
He should leave.
Every survival instinct he possessed told him to leave.
Then he noticed the wall.
Someone had scratched words into the concrete.
Three lines.
Three words.
WE REMEMBER YOU.
Elias stared.
His breathing became shallow.
He hadn't told anyone he was coming here.
Nobody knew.
Slowly, he touched the writing.
The scratches were fresh.
Dust had not yet settled inside them.
Someone had written them recently.
Behind him, something whispered.
"Elias."
He turned.
Nothing.
His radio crackled.
Static filled the supermarket.
Then a woman's voice emerged.
"Elias Voss."
He dropped the radio.
The voice continued.
"Can you hear me?"
Elias stared at the device.
Nobody had called him by his full name in eleven years.
The voice became quieter.
Almost frightened.
"If you can hear me..."
Static.
"...don't go home."
Elias stopped breathing.
The voice whispered:
"They found you."
The transmission ended.
Then something began walking toward him from the darkness.
One step.
Then another.
Elias raised his rifle.
And for the first time in years...
he ran.
- Writer
- chap_listContents
- likeADD