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PTERONOPHOBIA - ENTRY 14 (ARC III PREMIERE)

RedYoshiKing

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Happy Holidays Ticklers and Ticklees!

Finally! I know the wait has been long, but I'm proud to announce that Entry 14, the first in PTERONOPHOBIA's new Arc is now available to read, and it's a long, emotionally-charged beginning (in my opinion ;)).

Primarily, I'd like to thank everyone who participated in the Reader Response Survey for their feedback! The average results are in and are viewable under the EXTRAS page on the site.

I'm hoping to update the site with new entries either weekly or biweekly, depending on my work schedule. No promises, but I will do my best! Don't forget to leave your comments about the new entry below or at the bottom of the page on the site!

Without further ado, here's the direct link to the new entry:

http://pteronophobia.weebly.com/entry-14.html

Hope you feel the wait was worth it!

FOR YOUR CONVENIENCE (or for those of you who have difficulty reaching/viewing the site): I will also post the entry here on the forum a couple of days after it is released on the site. :)

==============================================================================================================================

FOURTEEN
bROADcast

“Hey guys! Spyderfan32 here.”

How unoriginal! How embarrassing! Only every other vlogger on YouTube was using that intro!

Despite the circumstances, I couldn’t help but feel self-conscious about my low-resolution, grayscale performance in front of hundreds of my no-longer-present fans.

“So, normally I’d do a movie review, or post a new trailer for an upcoming game -- I’m so stoked for LittleBIGPlanet™! I swear my parents are getting me a PS3 for Christmas -- but for this vid, I’d like to share something else instead.”

I cringed, thinking back to that day.

“See the vid title? Yeah, well, you’ll never guess what happened today!”

No duh, Sherlock.

“As you guys may know, I’m in a Summer Film Class to prepare for when school starts in September. Anyway, our teacher had us split into groups today and there’s this guy in my class -- his name’s Trent.”

Yep. I was blushing now, observing the naïve kid preaching to me from behind the web cam. I wanted to respond through my laptop’s mic and warn myself of the dangers to come. But then again, I was a pretty smart kid: always overly cautious.

It paid off, didn’t it?

“Trent had been acting weird all morning. He was super twitchy, you know, so easily distracted, and he kept eyeing the guy next to him, Nick Malone.”

Get on with it! I was growing quite impatient with my ghost.

“Anyway, he randomly freaked!! We were getting ready to head on out, and he just went NUTS! I got most of it on my phone. Check it out! I edited the footage into this vid. It’s SO intense!”

I felt my heart dropping into my stomach with every anxious drum.

Trent’s episode had already started when the cut ended. No longer flooded in a world of grays, the distinct shot of a classroom appeared. A rather tall, lanky guy with spiked brown hair, dressed in jeans and a tee, was on top of a much shorter baby-faced kid. I remembered it vividly. Before I could whip out my phone, Trent had shouted loudly and jumped on Sean, who fell out of his chair and into the desk behind him. Of course, all the chicks in the classroom screamed and some of the guys just sat there stupidly in shock.

Not me. No sir, I’d always been a filmmaker at heart. I aspire to make motion pictures one day... if the world ever returns to normal. First instinct: film this! No one will believe you if you don’t!

The creepy thing was that poor Nick was giggling and screaming like a frantic child child! And Trent, in the midst of a rather unusual roar, was tickling him, all five fingers each immersed in an armpit!

I heard myself shout, “What the heck? Is he...?”

And then, the other kids started... laughing nervously too! Our teacher, Mr. Daniels, was irate! He started shouting at Trent and came forward, trying to pull Trent off of Nick. Now usually, Trent was the class clown, a joker. But the camera didn’t reveal a goofysmirk. No, Trent had a very eerie look about him. His eyes were wide. His teeth were gritted, and his nose was wrinkled. When Mr. Daniels touched Trent, he snarled and pushed him back with an unusual strength. And the, he turned to me.

Those eyes. They weren't his.

Right into the camera. The dilated pupils were signaling that an alien hunger had stirred within him. I could only film for a few seconds longer.

I had been far too scared to continue.

The scene came to an abrupt end and, once again, I saw myself behind a stream of static gray lines.

“You see?! What in the world was wrong there?! Trent full-on attacked Nick! Jumped on him! Knocked over desks! And he was tickling him!”

I sighed and began rubbing my temples with my forefingers.

“Now I know most of you would say it’s a very weird prank. Trent’s always been a prankster. But I really think that there’s something worse happening to him. Like he’s some kind of tickle... z-zombie.... or, or, or....”

I couldn’t bear to watch myself trip over my own words. Now very hot in the cheeks, I closed my laptop, though the sound didn’t cut out immediately.

“.... I’m telling you, the guy looked insane! And I know it sounds ridiculous! It all adds up except for the tick...”

Silence.

“Chase, will you stop torturing yourself, you masochist?” I heard the voice of my girlfriend.

“How long have you been there?’

“’Bout thirty seconds. Chase, why do you watch your old vids? What’s the point?”

“I don’t know. Guess I miss the good old days,” I admitted with a chuckle and turned to face her. Before my eyes rested on Marissa, they quickly darted over to the exact spot where Trent had suffered his little outburst. I was in the same classroom now, and about a year and a half had gone by since.

“THAT post isn’t about the ‘good old days’, Chase,” Marissa argued.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Close enough though. Right when they were ending,” I laughed as she bounced on over to me, weaving in and out of the desks on the way.

“Then?”

“I wanna film again, Marissa! I am the musician! The camera is my instrument!” I sang, holding out my arched hand rather dramatically.

“Shut up. You’re such a dork,” Marissa exhaled a snicker and grabbed my arm.

It was true. I wore sweater vests and long checkered socks. I had about as much muscle as a lollipop, which come to think of it, was a very good analogy for my physical appearance. Big head. Skinny little body. When my parents decided that my middle name was going to be Leonard, they pretty much branded it into my soul. My 20/20 vision was my only saving grace. No glasses for me!

“That I am. And proud to be one,” I grinned.

“Let’s get back to the gym,” Marissa tugged at me. “Stop wandering back over here. It’s too close to the fence! Plus, the sun'll be up soon!”

“The shades are drawn,” I reasoned. I couldn’t stay away from the film room. “Anyway, I’ve decided to start a mockumentary, of sorts.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, who knows if and when the world will ever recover from this outbreak? I wanna create a visual library, depicting the day-to-day life of a survivor in the apocalypse.”

“I don’t think this merits an apocalypse. Besides, for all we know, it hasn’t spread overseas. We’ll bounce back. We always have. Sean’s a firm believer that this is just a snag.”

“And it MAY be, but this is something I want to do regardless. It won’t be hurting anyone. To tell you the truth, I’ve been looking over old footage to download and edit into my clips, so people years from now can see how it all began,” I explained.

“Oh, Chase....” Marissa sighed.

“PLUS, if this ISN’T global, then maybe -- if I can figure out how -- I’ll be able to show viewers what it’s like over here!”

“Chase, no... the internet’s been down for weeks!”

“Marissa, please. Let me do this. It’ll make me happy...” I pleaded, flashing my brown eyes at her. She raised her brow and chuckled.

“Fine.”

I grinned cheekily.

“So, where are you gonna start, then?”

“With this,” I explained proudly, whipping out my prized possession: a black Toshiba Camileo™ HD Camcorder.

“Where did you...?”

“This baby never leaves my side. I would’ve used one of the school’s cameras had I no other option, but, fortunately, I do!” I shouted, and kissed the lens, a gesture that made Marissa roll her eyes. “I’ve had this model since I was twelve.”

“I've never seen you with it before." Marissa eyed me suspiciously. "But, whatever. Good for you.”

“No, good for us.” I turned it on and flipped the eye of the recorder to face me, keeping the view screen so that I could see what the camera was seeing: the boyish face of a newly-adolescent male with chocolate eyes, short chestnut hair, a button nose, and a small mouth of pearly-whites (okay, so they’re not pearly, but I’m proud of my dental hygiene). The 1080p high-definition video captured almost every freckle on the bridge of my nose, a very subtle contrast to my cream-colored skin.

Seeing myself stare awkwardly into the eye of the camera left me feeling a bit flustered with embarrassment so I stuttered upon reciting my introduction.

“H-hey everyone. My name’s Chase Wyman. I’m fourteen years old, and I’m currently a survivor of a tickle-monster apocalypse...” I started, almost bursting out in laughter. My smirk was obviously a poor attempt to mask the stupidity of the phrase, but I continued after collecting my composure.

“It’s been, let’s see, about eighteen months since the first outbreaks?” I finished the sentence with an upward inflection, as if asking the audience.

“That’s about right,” Marissa suddenly chimed in. I turned to her, as did the camera. Her soft-glowing face was highly photogenic, or in this case, I guess the word would be videogenic. Her amber hair, her dark brown eyes, her plump rosy lips, were all fashioned with great proportion around her long nose.

“This is Marissa Simmons, my girlfriend.” I noted, just as she wrapped her arms around my neck, forcing the camera to get a good clear-shot of the ceiling for a few seconds before I could semi-center it on both of our faces.

“Hi! I know it sounds stupid, but no joke. Right now, some disease is turning people into tickling freaks. Like, all they wanna do is TICKLE people!” Marissa said, staring into the viewing monitor instead of the eye of the camera.

“Look HERE,” I instructed, pointing to the lens. This mockumentary was already impossible to take seriously.

“We’ve been told its some sort of contagion that essentially taps into the brain and overrides the central nervous system. I’ve heard from media that symptoms include aggression and involuntary physical contact. No one knows how it’s spreading, but it is. Very fast.” I continued, trying to sound more somber.

“Which is bad news, cuz Chase here, is pretty ticklish,” Marissa giggled and began to lightly run her long red nails along the sides of my neck and then down over my chest. I squirmed and smiled and brushed her away.

“An-nyway, we’re h-here at Morning Glory High School with a small group of fellow survivors. I’ll introduce them in a moment,” I finished and stopped the recording.

“Let’s try and keep this serious!” I whined once I was positive the camera was off.

“I’m sorry. It just gets really awkard when you’re actually trying to explain what’s happening to our world. It’s ridiculous.”

“I know, I know, but...”

“Plus, you’re uber cute, Mr. Filmmaker,” Marissa giggled and I reddened.

“Anyway, I’m gonna start introducing the others, so...”

“Oh! Speaking of which, I wanted to let you know that Ricky had texted me about fifteen minutes ago. He’s on his way back! That means it’s almost breakfast time!”

“And it’ll be the perfect opportunity to record everyone together!”

“Oh, Chase...” Marissa sighed again and grabbed my hand. I left my laptop charging near the wall, feasting on energy, while I headed off to have a feast of my own, one hand holding Marissa’s, and the other, my camera.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sky was scarred by the two smoky trails left by the ICBMs that had just disappeared into the atmosphere.

“Were those...?” Jake’s over-horrified voice drifted away on the winds.

“We’re at war,” Juliana whispered.

“With whom? And why?” Jake shouted.

“Well, I’d imagine the gargalite epidemic has something to do with it,” I responded rather sarcastically in spite of the fact that my heart was currently freezing over.

“The main concern is whether this was our doing or a response to the act of an enemy,” Juliana continued.

“Look,” Eric suddenly directed our attention back to the west. When we had first exited the compound, we were greeted by a strange green aura, now painted with blotches of an amethyst luminescence.

“What is that?”

“Not sure. It’s toward Sacramento,” Juliana noted.

These long seconds had given my other senses time to fire away. The sounds: a cacophony of blaring sirens. Our surroundings: rolling olive hills, akin to the natural rises surrounding The Grapevine, brushed with layer upon layer of dry weeds, rock, and small budding flora. The air: dry and humid. As it hugged our trembling bodies, the sticky stillness carried with it an eerie sense of something dark, something that I could not describe. My throat burned as my tongue scooped in a spicy flavor of ash on the winds. I began coughing.

And then, the screams joined in, a choir to accompany the instrumental monotony of the alarms, bringing my attention back to where we had just exited from.

The G.U.A.R.D. facility’s exterior was an enormous half-spherical structure. Its convex armored body was lined with large concrete spires, all painted to match the natural surroundings of the highlands. A thick chain link fence, about twelve feet high, lined the perimeter, its top decorated with strings of barbed wire.

From what I could see from our vantage point on the catwalk, a sheltered parking lot curved around the main entrance, which itself was a large window-lined rectangular archway. Dozens of panicked figures were sprinting from its doors toward the crimson vehicles at the curb. Too bad they weren’t running. Nothing electronic seemed to be functioning, save the deafening bells.

Jake suddenly screamed.

The door to our immediate right trembled and gave way to a rather muscular, dark-skinned male. His face and neck was a growth medium for a network of white branches, webs along his skin. His pupils dilated, and his teeth barred, the African-American man roared and pounced towards us.

“Sorry, pal,” Eric coolly denied him and fired a bullet into his chest. He gasped and fell only inches away from where Jake had been standing.

“Let’s get down there!” Zach cried, still hugging his guitar.

“Oh God,” Jake panted and rushed closer to me. We were facing a rather large vertical drop, about eighty feet, with only a narrow metal stairway to guide us down. Jake and I had already undergone a very traumatizing experience on a fire escape. I wasn’t looking forward to another.

“RAAAARGGGH!!!” The man that Eric had shot down only seconds before suddenly sprung back to life, just in time to be joined by almost eight other gargalites pouring from the doorway.

“FUCK!” Eric cried and shot again. Juliana joined him.

“GO, GO!” She ordered the rest of us.

Jake grabbed onto my arm and I hoisted him towards the railing. Zach followed, gripping his instrument companion loyally.

The sounds of bullets penetrating flesh pursued us as we shuffled downward. Vertigo began to tease my eyes. With each step, Jake tightened his grip on my bicep.

“ERIC, LET’S GO!” I heard Juliana scream preceding the pounding of footsteps. Jake, Zach, and I could barely fit comfortably within the stairway and the attempt to be swift and quick made the situation unbearably stressful. Unfortunately, the gargalites didn’t care about precision or speed. They poured over the edge, cascading upon us. A few missed. They slammed against the banister and flopped down to the concrete below.

One landed on Zach. A female. He twisted forward, losing his footing...

...and his grip on his guitar.

In increments of every pulse-pounding millisecond, I saw the beautiful red acoustic spiral through the air, tumbling towards its fate.

Though the fierce gargalite was currently tearing through the back of Zach’s shirt and he had just struck an iron surface face-first, I saw that his only concern was the guitar. Stupidly, I reached out to try and grab it in mid-fall. I failed. After it exited the immediate area around us, a diameter of about six feet, the slow-motion frame rate registering through my brain ceased and, per the world’s request, resumed normally. The brilliant red object twirled with an odd grace until its dismount, where it caved in upon itself, the neck snapping, the strings curling, and the body shattered into splintered fragments, shooting every which way.

Zach couldn’t see what had become of his beloved friend, but I know he assumed the worst because he immediately cried out in agony as if he could feel the emotional connection being severed.

“ZACH!” I yelled, weaving around Jake, edging toward the gargalite. Zach shouted again, his face a twisted amalgamation of agony as the woman tried to dig her fingers into the crevices beneath his bulging shoulders.

Eric and Juliana had caught up with us but we were now wedged together on a single tier, a mass traffic jam as the gargalites rained down on us. Juliana butted the assailant on the back of the head with her weapon. It whimpered and turned to face her. She hit it again and it lost consciousness.

“Let’s move!”

Zach wouldn’t budge.

“Zach, they’re right behind us!”

Nothing.

“Forget him!” Eric spat and ran passed us. Jake tugged on my wrist.

“Andrew, c’mon! He’ll be fine!”

I mimicked Zach. I just continued to stare into his pained face, heartbroken.

“ANDREW!”

“Jake, I know you hate the guy for only God knows why, but will you just shut up?! Go on without me!” I suddenly roared. The growing, constant trepidation was spewing from me without control.

I saw the pain manifest itself in Jake’s face now and I immediately felt regret. Jake turned and continued on alone, rather quickly. Eric was already several floors below us.

“Zach, we’re dead if we don’t move! You can’t seriously be giving up because you lost your guitar!” Juliana screamed.

Zach shakily rose to his feet, his face unchanged, locked in despondency and detachment. He nodded and rushed around me. Three more gargalites fell around us. I eyed Juliana as she watched them with distaste.

“C’mon,” I urged her. She assumed her position as my arm’s new companion, still a firm grip on her gun with her other hand. The gargalite that had attacked Zach began stirring again. We ignored it and took after the rest of our group. My sense of dread was eased a bit with Juliana at my side.

“JULES!” I heard Eric shout up to us. He was almost at the bottom. She paused to look down at him. He frantically yelled something else at her, but his words were drowned out by a sudden high-pitched whistling.

A projectile tore over the hillside across from the compound and struck the dome of the main facility with a divine force. The building trembled and the fire escape groaned. A plume of fiery smoke sprouted from the point of impact and the panic intensified. The vehicle responsible for the missile screamed overhead followed by two other comrades. Again a rocket penetrated the GUARD building, this time entering right near the parking lot. Glass rained down on the figures below, some human, and some gargalite.

“WHAT ARE THEY DOING?!?! THEY’RE MURDERING INNOCENT PEOPLE!!!” Juliana wailed over the deafening blasts. My eardrums numb, my eyes spasmodically rolling, I lost my balance and took a few steps back into what could only be described as smooth pain.

At first I felt nothing. A strange tingle scampered across the surface of my skin, which transformed into an odd burning, quickly followed by a searing sharpness that forced its way up through my stomach, my chest and then into my skull where I had to release it via a loud wail.

Juliana gasped and brought her hands to her mouth, dropping her gun. Luckily it didn’t fire, but I really didn’t care at that point. Whatever had happened to my right calf was hammering away at my nervous system.

“Oh GOD, ANDREW!” Juliana breathed.

“W-what...?” I wheezed.

“Hold still,” Juliana whimpered and knelt down, bending around my trembling leg. I figured that something had stabbed into it. I just wanted the agony to stop. On top of the advancing swarm of gargalites and the missile strikes, we really didn’t have the time for Juliana to treat the wound. She pulled my leg forward, and for a split second, a coolness washed away the pain. And then, I felt a strange stringing sensation spur at the point of injury. I had to look, to feed that unbearable curiosity -- soon replaced with unbearable nausea.

A very large laceration decorated the back of my pants nicely, the crimson stains a base for a small inconsistent fountain of blood that was oozing and spurting in random intervals. I had stumbled onto a piece of the broken banister, jarred loose by the impact of the missiles.

Juliana gasped again, and thinking quickly, she removed her black GUARD dress suit, now only clothed in a ruby dress shirt and wrapped it tightly around the gash. I shouted again, my eyes watering and grabbed her shoulder.

“You’ve got to apply pressure to it. Use me as a crutch! We’ve got to get you safely to the ground!”

I heard gunfire as Eric tried to fend off the gargalites from attacking Zach and Jake, both of whom had already reached the ground. Juliana and I still had about four flights to go.

Juliana picked up her gun and fired it just as the same female who had attacked Zach tore down on the stairs above us. She screeched and fell backward over the railing.

“You can stand, right?”

I withdrew a heavy breath and nodded. My whole leg was throbbing.

“Okay, lean on me and let’s...” Juliana began but she was suddenly torn from her position beside me and pulled upward by a very acrobatic male gargalite, about thirty or so, with black hair and fierce dilated green pupils. I panted, dizzy and tried to grab her but I only managed to seize hold of her ankle, both her high heels falling from her beautiful feet currently wrapped in torn nylons.

“SHIT! G-GET AW-WAY!” Juliana screamed at the agile male who was holding her up by her wrist with only one arm. With the other it began to tickle her exposed armpit with a satisfied hiss. Juliana kicked and screamed, trying to remain adamant, but she began to giggle. I pulled down on her ankle, trying to free her but to no avail.

“OH GAWHAHAHAWD!” She shrieked as the growth on the gargalite’s vascular hand began to creep into her perfectly sculpted, smooth underarm. I had never seen Juliana in this predicament. She was so beautiful and to watch her scream and squirm as her armpit was being tickled was oddly arousing despite the very lethal situation we were currently in.

I pulled down on her leg again, but she kicked me in the head and I reeled back against the cracked concrete wall. A bullet whizzed by from below.

ERIC, ARE YOU FUCKING INSANE? YOU COULD HIT YOUR SISTER! I gritted my teeth. The blood loss was quickly affecting my body. I scrambled forward and tried again.

“NO! NO! NO!” Juliana roared with a grin as the gargalite pulled her higher and began to explore the tender flesh near the side of her bosom, still clothed. Unhappy, it began to tear at the clothing, much to Juliana’s dismay.

“LEAVE HER ALONE!” I roared with all the remaining strength I could muster. My foot began to pulse in sync with my calf. The male gargalite turned to me, snarling. It stared for about two seconds and complied, dropping her like worthless garbage. I extended my arms to catch her. I didn’t have the strength to compensate for the speed and force at which she hit me. As if I had suddenly swallowed a bowling ball, I felt my stomach greatly expand and then compress, followed by my lungs. My injured leg buckled and I fell to my side, her on top of me.

The remaining ten or so gargalites took to the walls and sidings, scampering like nimble free-runners down around us. A few perched on our floor, eyed our predicament curiously then continued onward.

Two more singing explosives charged somewhere into the building, shaking its very foundation. I felt trapped inside a climactic cliché. All I could really hear was my slowing heartbeat. It was almost deafening, overpowering the screams of the civilians and staff, the explosions, the jet engines, the sirens, and the monstrous howls of the infected. My melancholy senses shutting down as the life literally drained from my veins.

Consciousness phasing in and out, I only could remember flashes of being dragged down metal stairs, a weeping Juliana hovering over me, and the air above us becoming polluted with debris as the earth continued to shiver under the assault of the air raid.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Dude, there was this BRIGHT flash to the north! Lit up the whole sky!”

My best friend was here at last with a bag of... canned goods. I would’ve been annoyed, but this news was deliciously distracting.

“What are you talking about?” Marissa asked, still holding my hand as if we had been glued together.

“This super bright light just appeared out of nowhere! Happened about ten minutes ago!” Ricky was super excited.

“What do you think it was?” I asked as we closed the doors behind him. Much to Marissa’s dismay, I had to release her hand to relock the entrance.

“Not sure,” Ricky shook his head. He took off down the locker-lined hallway and to the gymnasium. We followed.

“Some sort of bomb, maybe?” Marissa guessed.

“Hope not,” Ricky responded quickly, and headed down the second corridor on the left. Almost there.

“Yeah, that would be... insane.” I shuddered at the thought. The only bomb that could produce a light like that would have to be nuclear.

“How far away?”

“Like I would know?! Maybe fifteen miles, twenty tops?”

“Wait, wait, wait! Hold it!” I shouted, activating my camera and stopping him right in front of the gym doors.

“What the heck are you doing?” Ricky asked.

“Making a movie. I’ll explain later. Just introduce yourself and tell me again about what just happened.”

“WHAT?” Ricky’s face was pure confusion and annoyance.

“Rick, just do it,” Marissa instructed. “He’s making a documentary that shows its viewers what our lives are like living in this mess of a world. Please?”

“I’m already rolling,” I encouraged, pointing at the lens. Ricky stared at me, then at Marissa, and finally into the camera. He rolled his eyes, but complied.

“Uh.... my name’s Rick, and uh, I just saw this-“

“Last name, Ricky,” I requested.

“What does matter what the hell my last name is?”

Marissa started laughing. I was growing frustrated, but I didn’t turn the camera off.

“C’mon!”

“Ugh, my name is,” he sighed, and then, “Ricky Marino. I was out getting some breakfast for my homies here, and out of nowhere there was this bright flash. Lit up the whole sky. Almost blew my cover,” Ricky explained. His thin, strong-jawed face was flushed, his honey-colored skin brushed with shades of pink. Beads of sweat had accumulated at the top of his forehead, just below a frazzled forest of spiky black hair.

“Ricky here is an athlete. We knew each other in high school. Now that the world’s gone to hell, we-”

“Gone to hell? Are you kidding? This is a cinch! I mean, really! No rules! No worries! The worst that can happen to you is getting tickled!”

“You’re not afraid of getting tickled by zombie-like creepers?” I asked, as Ricky continued to stare into the frame with his large, ochre irises.

“Hell no.” Ricky shrugged. “It wouldn’t matter anyway. They’ll never catch me,” he scoffed with a grin. I turned the camera back on me.

“He’s kinda cocky, in case you didn’t catch that,” I joked.

“Are we done now? This is stupid. I want to let the others know that I’m back, if you don’t mind,” Ricky shouted.

“Yeah, yeah, we’re done.” I lied, and lowered the camera, still active.

The doors parted just before Ricky could open them himself, and Sean was soon standing in the doorway with a flustered expression on his strong face.

“What are you guys talking about?” he asked.

Sean was the alpha-male, as it were, of our little clan. Strong, brave, and smart. Physically adept. For the most part, Ricky was too. Why did I have to be the dweeb?I really had no idea what Marissa saw in me compared to the others.

“A bright flash erupted over the horizon, maybe twenty miles north. Saw it a few minutes after I left the market,” Ricky announced as he held up the plastic bags filled with cans.

“Really? Hmm,” Sean looked slightly concerned. He really didn’t say much, simply allowing Ricky, Marissa and I to pass. After resealing the doorway, he accompanied us to the restaurant-like setting we had all created on one half of the interior basketball court before us.

A set of four foldout tables (all covered in red tablecloths) was branched out in equal increments to form somewhat of an arc. Next to the extendable bleachers, we had set up a large four by six desk to create what would pass for a buffet counter in our circumstances. A plug-in microwave, paper plates, assorted dry foods and bottled water were among the medley atop.

“So what do you think, Sean? A bomb?” Ricky asked as he placed the bags next to the microwave.

“Sounds like it. I mean, what else? Must’ve been far though. I didn’t hear anything here.”

“Me either. Just saw the flash.”

“This is our dining hall. Marissa and Carla, one of the other girls in the group helped set it up,” I randomly explained, moving the camera’s eye around the room.

“Chase, what are you doing?” Sean asked.

“Makin’ a movie,” I responded nonchalantly.

“Of?”

“Us. Filming our day-to-day lives.”

“Why?”

“Anything better to do? I just want others in the future to see how we lived during these hard times,” I explained for the third time.

“I TOLD YOU. These aren’t hard times,” Ricky insisted.

“Sean, say hello. Tell our viewers about yourself.”

“Later, man. Right now, I’ve gotta call the girls so we can eat. They’re in the theater, setting up the projector.”

“Oh, c’mon, Sean!” I begged.

“Calm down, dude. I’ll play along later,” Sean repeated sternly. I sighed and powered the camcorder down.

“Putting him in his place,” Ricky laughed.

“Shut up,” I shot back with a smile.

“Aww, poor Chase,” Marissa giggled.

Sean jogged across the court to the opposite wall and flipped the light switches – which didn’t respond.

He paused for a moment and tried again.

Nothing.

“Huh,” Sean muttered.

“What’s wrong?” Marissa asked.

“Lights don’t seem to be working,” Sean bit his lip, staring around the room with a look of bewilderment.

“Any of them?”

Sean shook his head.

“Dude, microwave’s out as well! There’s no display!” Ricky voiced loudly, pointing at the table.

“Hope it’s not a power failure,” Sean muttered.

“Oh, God, I hope not! I needed to charge my laptop!” I gasped.

“And my phone! How will we text each other?” Marissa yelped.

If the power is truly out, like all the other counties, who knows when it’ll return? My laptop could be dead for weeks... or even months...

“Oh no....” I sighed, feeling sharply forlorn. I immediately assumed the worst and was practically on the verge of tears.

“There goes our Star Wars movie marathon,” Ricky spat, rather frustrated.

I simply turned and headed back to the Film Production room. I had to double check. Just to be sure. No use crying unless I was positive that my laptop wouldn’t survive.

“Chase? CHASE?” I heard Marissa call out after me but I didn’t respond.

Please. No. Please, God. No!

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Andrew?” I heard Jake’s worried voice.

My vision was unfocused, but I could make out Juliana and Jake standing over me. I had been placed in some sort of sterile coffin, or so it seemed. Light was pouring in from an opening directly in front me. Gunshots and screams streamed in with it.

“M-my l-leg,” I gasped. I was nauseated and disoriented. The only distinct feeling was the endless, agonizing rhythm playing from the large seam on my appendage.

“Hold st-still,” Juliana cooed and began removing my shoe and sock.

“D-don’t...” I muttered, sounding rather intoxicated.

“Andrew, I need to treat your wound,” she responded solemnly.

“The blood’s soaked everything,” Jake wheezed. I caught a glimpse of Zach staring at me, biting his knuckle. In his arm he was holding a long object, but I couldn’t make out what it was.

I felt my sock removed, and then my pant leg being slowly rolled up.

“AGGGGHHH! AHHHH!!!!” I suddenly howled as the denim was pulled over the slice, tearing away a layer of dried blood and chafed skin as it bunched up around my knee.

“We probably should’ve put him in face-down,” Juliana sighed. “Jake, help me turn him over,”

“Oh God,” Jake moaned.

“Andrew, could you try to turn over?”

I nodded and withdrew my breath. I pulled my body to the side, Juliana placed her hand on my waist and hoisted to the left. I flopped over awkwardly, but somehow, the pain weakened.

“Some of the vehicles are still working, Jules! They’re evacuating!” I heard Eric shout from a distance somewhere behind me.

“Try this one!” Juliana ordered. It suddenly felt as if she had driven a row of needles into the opening. I screamed and pounded my fist against the hollow surface below.

“Jake, hold him!”

“What the hell happened to him?!” Jake asked and complied. I felt a very weak pressure on my ankles. It really didn’t do anything to restrain me.

“He fell onto a piece of the stairway. The wound’s really deep. We’ll need to stitch it up.”

“AHHHHHH GAWAWAWD!” I wailed.

“Juliana...” Jake whispered. I heard Juliana stop her shuffling only for a second. My brain, smart as it was, decided it had had enough, and shut off. I drifted away into unconsciousness, a subtle vibration stirring beneath me as my eyes closed again.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Thank GOD! I was FREAKING OUT!” I sighed emphatically as I stormed back into the gymnasium, Marissa right behind.

“Carla just called me. She said that she was playing with the equipment in the Theater Room, flipped some circuit breakers in the process,” Sean laughed.

“So it wasn’t a power outage...?” Ricky asked.

“Doesn’t look that way. Lights are back on. So is the microwave,” Sean stated with a shrug. “Anyway, the important thing is that we don’t have to suffer without power later tonight. Let’s prepare breakfast, clean up, and get ready for some Star Wars!”

Despite it being one of my favorite franchises, I couldn’t have cared less about George Lucas’ classic film saga at that moment.

My laptop still lived. And so did my camera.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“How you feeling?” Juliana sounded sad. It had me worried.

“A b-bit b-better,” I lied. My calf was still heavily pulsating despite it being bandaged rather well. It was farfetched: Juliana practically performing minor surgery on my leg in the midst of the bombing of a gargalite-infested compound. But hey, score one for us against the temperamental universe.

“It was bad,” Juliana forced a smile. She was sitting next to me on the floor of the little chamber I had been placed in, hugging her legs to her chest.

“It FELT bad,” I emphasized rather weakly, then changed the subject. “Where are we?”

“About a mile outside the perimeter of the GUARD facility, in one of the compound’s medical vehicles.

“You guys managed to drag me to a random vehicle during the panic?” I laughed.

“Well, Eric kind of acted as our defense. Believe it or not, the gargalites kind of ignored us... they were more focused on the evacuees... most of which didn’t surv...” Juliana’s voice trailed away into the realm of oblivion.

“What happened, exactly?” I moaned, trying to pull myself against the surface behind me in an attempt to sit up.

“I still don't know. All I can say for certain is that THEY did.”

“They?’

“The staff. The head researchers. They all left RIGHT before everything went to hell. Coincidence?” Juliana’s tone intensified and I saw tears accumulate in her tired eyes.

“They wouldn’t just abandon the patients. Besides, we saw doctors and nurses aiding the evacuation,” I tried to reason.

“Few, if any.”

“Juliana, your parents wouldn’t just leave without you and Eric...”

“DAMN IT!” Juliana suddenly began to sob. She slammed her fist down against the bed of the vehicle.

“Jules...” I had never called her that before, at least not that I could remember.

“I don’t get it, Andrew, I really don’t,” she wept. “One minute, we’re safe. We’re close to a solution! And then... why?”

“I don’t...”

“WHY?! What initiated it? Why the power failure? Why the air raid?”

“Juliana, if I knew then...”

Juliana broke down completely. She planted her forehead on her knees and sobbed. Her scathed body in its torn dress shirt, grime-laden skirt and ripped nylons trembled and heaved. Her dark hair was powdered in detritus as was her caramel skin.

I turned my body, painful as it was and scooted closer to her. She immediately took the opportunity to nestle into my side. I felt the manifestations of her fear and agony drip from her eyes and land on my sleeve.

“Juliana, I’m so, SO sorry...” I breathed, my Adam’s Apple quivering in pain. Her crying was becoming contagious.

She didn’t respond, but rather, continued to intensely wail, burying her head deeper into my side. I squeezed her shoulder and closed my eyes, trying to prevent my own tears from seeping through.

“So, so, so sorry....” My voice was barely a whisper.

The vibrations beneath us suddenly ceased as our van came to slow and jagged stop. After a few seconds, I heard a door open and slam from my left, followed by footsteps. The metal gates to our chamber quickly parted with a loud squeal, and there stood Eric, ragged and emotionally dark as ever.

He looked much worse than his sister. His face and neck were coated in a thick film of dust, blood, and sweat. His thin white tee was now a canvas of uneven brown hues as were his dark running shorts. His legs were scabbed and stained.

“We’re low on gas. She won’t last much longer.”

“W-what?” Juliana could barely speak between heaves.

“We’ll be lucky to make it a few more miles.”

“That doesn’t make any sense. All the medical vehicles were consistently refueled. How could we possibly be out of gas already?” Juliana asked.

“HOW THE F....” he started, but took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and tried again, saying, “I’m not a mechanic, Jules. I have no idea.”

“How f-far did we m-make it? D-did you see any other vehicles head this way?” she whimpered, wiping her eyes.

“Just two. Lost sight of ‘em about three minutes ago. I’d say we’re a good two miles from the fence. You can still see the smoke over the hills. Jets are still tearing at it. Lot of the working vans and medical evacs headed west to the main highway.”

“Are we on any main roads?”

“Nope. I really don’t have any idea where we are. Got kinda turned around in the uproar. Everything looks the damn same. The facility was in a secluded area... hard to find and to leave from...” Eric finished just as another mechanical bird cawed overhead.

“So now wh-what?” I asked.

“Well, we can continue onward for a bit longer, but once the tank’s empty, we’ve either got to wait and see if another vehicle shows up or walk,” Eric answered and spat into the ground.

“Well I can’t really walk right now...” I gestured to my wound.

“Guess we’ll have to leave you then,” Eric, I assumed, was joking, but his face was all too serious.

“Get off his back. He saved me. All you did was practically shoot me.” Juliana growled, eyes red and swollen.

“Well, yeah, whatever. We saved him too, so as far as I’m concerned, no one owes anyone anything. That includes kindness OR respect,” Eric spat. His animosity was so tiresome.

I scooted closer towards the edge of the van, into the light of the rising sun. The air still tasted like ash. It was uninviting.

“Eric, get Zach and Jake, so we can make a decision,” Juliana ordered dejectedly, clearing her throat in the process. She had regained her composure, but her face still oozed an expression that told of hopelessness and exhaustion. Her brother, eying me, curled his lip and walked away.

After a second, Juliana spoke.

“Andrew, we all know you’re... infected. The TI growth on your foot – it’s in the exact spot where Shay had attacked you at the apartment,” she blurted quietly with a surprising vigor.

My adrenal glands reopened as did my eyes. Wide.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The sounds of joviality filled the gym as our little group of six gathered to feast on frozen Eggos with syrup, dry cereal, and bottled water.

“Where’s your girl, Sean? Or Jack?” Ricky joked, sticking his plate in the portable microwave.

“Pssh, they’re still sleeping. According to her, she’s the only one in the group who doesn’t get up at an ‘ungodly hour’. And you know Jack. Sleeps most of the day. More of a night owl. I say more power to him. We need eyes after sunset.”

“What time is it now?” Ricky asked.

“Almost six-thirty.”

“I’ve always been an early bird. I used to go jogging before sunrise,” Marissa bragged.

“What time did you go get the food from the market?” I asked Ricky.

“Left about four. Was still dark out.”

“Why so early? You could’ve slept in a little,” Sean stated.

“Couldn’t sleep. Anyway, I like going when it’s still dark and cold. Those things are less active before daylight. It’s easier to go as incognito before the sun comes up anyway.”

“I don’t think you’re using that word correctly,” I laughed.

“Shut up, Chase.” Ricky shook his head with a smirk.

“See any gargs near the school on your way back up?”

“Just that same old man. Creeper. Just hangs out by the fence. He’s lookin’ worse and worse every day.”

“Some of those... creatures just kinda get lost and, you know, dry up.” Carla suddenly chimed in.

“So as you can see, most of the group is here enjoying breakfast together,” I suddenly recited, my camera poised to face the surprised stars.

“Where did that come from?” Carla squeaked.

“He likes to pull it out randomly,” Ricky stated, annoyed once more. “He’s making a movie about us.”

“It’s not a movie about you, just life in general. I wanna depict how we as survivors cope in this world.”

Carla suddenly withdrew, bashful and anxious. I chuckled.

“That’s Carla, or ‘princess’ as we like to call her,” I introduced her, while focusing the camera on the adorable blonde of fourteen.

“What’s her last name, Chase?” Ricky teased me. I turned the camera on him.

“You already know Rick,” I continued and he just shook his head. Carla giggled.

“Sean, please tell them a little about YOURself,” I ordered as the camera’s view fell unto him. Sean smirked and obliged with a simple raise of his hand to gesture a greeting.

“I’m Sean...” I raised a brow as a prompt, to which he added: “Patton.”

I nodded.

“Twenty-one. Uh, my girlfriend and I -- I’m sure Chase’ll introduce you to her later -- met up with these kids here at Morning Glory High. Been making a stand here for a good few months now. Been awhile, but we’ve managed. We’re strong,” Sean surmised as my mind began to drift back to our first encounter. Sean was the iconic too-good-to-be-true handsome stud that ran our ‘community’ from the start. Due to his age and stature, we all naturally looked to him for direction. He guided us. He protected us. He was our stronghold.

When the outbreaks had first began in the autumn months of the year before, no one thought much of it, except for me. I had been immediately terrified. I was always a firm believer in the possibility of a zombie apocalypse actually occurring -- I was one of those super nerds who actually had a survival plan. The Zombie Survival Guide by Max Brooks was practically my bible. It was a love/hate fear/fascination phenomenon.

Even when the rapid spread of the infection began to sweep the Southwestern United States, my parents refused to listen to me. They told me to stop worrying. They said that everything would be resolved soon enough. After all, the media had just described it as a “mass craze of organized pranks’ originally, perhaps ‘a publicity stunt’. What confused everyone and even refuted my fears was the fact that tickling was involved. How could’ve that been taken seriously? By ANYONE?

So when the attacks really got violent and people began to panic, that’s when my family decided it was best to get out of town...a little too late. Unlike the typical uneducated zombie, the gargalites proved to be quite formidable. They retained human intelligence, human sensibility, and the prowess to scale surfaces with ease.

My folks never stood a chance.

“Chase, you okay?” Marissa asked.

“Oh, uh, yeah,” I cleared my throat.

“Dude, you’re not even pointing the camera at us anymore! What a lame-ass director you are!” Ricky called out.

“Sorry, I got distracted,” I admitted and turned the camcorder off, placing it on the ground next to my chair.

“Am I really that boring?” Sean shot with a smile.

“Who chose the movies today?” Carla asked, effectively propelling us into a different topic, before taking a swig of water.

“Who do you think?” Ricky chuckled and pointed to me.

“Star Wars? Really? Blegh!” Carla shook her head.

“Quiet, Princess. They’re a key aspect in cinematic history!” I argued. Sean chocked on a breath trying to withhold laughter.

“More like you’re a diehard Luke Skywalker fan boy,” Marissa teased and patted my shoulder.

“Am not! I just think everyone should watch the entire Star Wars saga at least once!”

“It’s not healthy to deny your man crush, Chase.” Sean continued. “But anyway, we all agreed to watch it. After all, it was his turn.”

“Probably used a Jedi mind trick to get us to agree,” Ricky shook his head.

“All of you, shut up!” I laughed.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Juliana... I swear, I barely j-just....”

“Andrew, it’s okay.”

“Are you s-sure it’s T.I.?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

I finally directed my attention down to my bare foot, the skin surprisingly clean and white compared to the rest of my body. The single white branch on my instep was clearly visible, but didn’t look any larger than it had before.

“Andrew, it doesn’t matter. You’re not displaying any symptoms. For now, it’s safe to say that you’re not a danger to yourself or any of us,” Juliana tried to comfort me, but her tone was stressed and sharp.

“What about the others. What do they think?”

“Well, I’m positive Eric would love to put a bullet in your brain right now.” Juliana said with a forced smile. Eric’s recent behavior was somewhat frightening. I could tell I wasn’t the only one who it made uneasy.

“Jake? Zach?”

“Jake was the first one to notice. He pointed it out before I began working on your leg. I don’t think he cares. He has an infected brother and he still loves him. That’s inspiring,” Juliana noted.

“Thank you, by the way. Where’d you learn to...”

“Andrew, my parents are both government medical researchers. The whole doctor bit runs in the family. Eric and I have been trained for emergencies since we were kids.”

“Makes sense,” I said with a nod.

“Anyway, Zach’s kept his distance since we left the compound. He’s been carrying around what’s left of his guitar’s neck. I don’t think he’s really interested in talking to you right now. I mean, he said he was happy that you were alright, but that was about it,” Juliana explained.

“I see...”

“Andrew, we’re all just a exhausted and scared. No one knows how to feel or what to think right now. We just need to focus on our next goal. I’d say that meeting up with the evac caravan would be ideal.”

“You heard the broadcasts?” Eric suddenly returned, his stature bulky and ape-like, his weapon prepped.

“You’re receiving a radio signal?” Juliana asked.

“Car is.”

“And?”

Eric grabbed Juliana and pulled her out of the vehicle. I lunged forward carefully, afraid to place my barefoot onto the asphalt below. If my leg was capable, I’m sure it would’ve screamed in pain. My arms buckled.

“Need help?”

Jake was watching me from beside the open door on the right.

“I’m just intrigued. Don’t think there’s a point in hurting myself just to listen to the radio, though,” I admitted.

“Guess not,” Jake mimicked dejectedly. He was holding a stick, a small piece of brush from the dry flora surrounding us.

“Jake, thank you. For helping me out.”

“No worries, Andrew. You woulda done the same for me,” he replied, still staring at the object in his dirty palms.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you back there. I was just scared. Stressed.”

Jake raised his head, his blue eyes bereft of their normal spark.

“I understand.”

Silence rode in on the dry breeze. Amongst the winds, I could hear the static-emitting radio from the dash up in front. Eric was really blasting it.

“...Sacramento has been eva..ated and de... after... ..ard Res... quarantined due to...” A female was speaking. It was very hard to make out. Was she providing some sort of explanation for the recent events that had just occurred or was this just merely an emergency protocol message that had been repeating endlessly for weeks?

“Guys?” I heard Zach, but I couldn’t see him.

“Shut up, Zach. I’m trying to hear what she’s saying,” Eric growled.

“...are advised to remain calm. Help is on the w...” the woman continued.

“We’ve got trouble!” Zach retorted, drowning out the broadcast.

“SHIT! WILL YOU SHUT UP?!” Eric roared, ignoring the meaning of Zach’s outburst.

“What do you mean?” Juliana clarified.

“Take a look,” he mumbled. I looked up at that moment, toward the fields behind us.

“Ah shit,” I bit my tongue.

As if cued in a horror film, a staggering herd of limping creatures, some standing, others crawling on all fours, began to pour over the horizon, a foreground to a twisting vortex of smoke where the compound once stood.

“We’ve gotta go,” Eric ordered. I heard heavy footsteps, and soon, he tore in front of me, his weapon ready to fire.

“But the van!” Juliana argued.

“It’s not going far, but we can’t just sit here,” Eric retorted. “Get in the damn van! Juliana, hurry!”

Out of nowhere, Eric turned to me and pointed the magnum at my face.

“HEY!” I shouted angrily.

“ERIC, WHAT THE HELL?!” Jake gasped.

“Get out,” he ordered.

“WHAT?”

“GET OUT OF THE VEHICLE! YOU’RE NOT COMING WITH US!”

“We’re not leaving him, Eric,” Juliana defied him with a shake of her head. The moans of swarm trickled into earshot.

“He’s not one of us anymore,” Eric muttered through pursed lips.

My heart was sinking fast.

“We’re NOT leaving him!”

“We’re running out of time!” Jake cried.

“Don’t make me force you to leave him,” Eric threatened.

“Excuse me?” Juliana scoffed.

I didn’t know how to respond. I eyed him cautiously, my eyes occasionally darting to look directly into the semi-automatic’s muzzle.

He removed the safety.

“ERIC, if you kill him, YOU’RE DEAD TO ME!” Juliana screamed, tears returning to her eyes. Eric’s hand trembled, his eyes shimmering brilliantly with an intense hatred. I sensed a strange fallacy about him. I knew he wouldn’t. I was unafraid.

“Fuck,” he breathed and lowered his gun.

Jake was crying too.

The sounds of the gargalites echoed across the burning hills.

“It’s us and them, Andrew. We all know what you are now. You haven’t fully turned yet, but you will. I’ve seen it a thousand times before. And as soon as I’m positive that you’re a danger to our safety, I’m going to kill you,” Eric whispered, still eyeing me with a coldness that was only comparable to the tundra of the arctic. Barren and lifeless, his soul.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Why watch them in order?!” Jack whined, sitting toward the back of the room, dressed in a black hoodie and jeans. “And turn that damn camera off!”

“Are you camera shy, Jack?” I teased.

“No, but you’re an asshole,” Jack retaliated in his smooth English accent.

Jack. Ah, Jack. The estranged, quiet kid with a brilliant artistic mind. Jack was a skinny, somewhat timid individual with an eye for the metaphorical. He had darting green eyes, and curly short hair, which he sometimes straightened and adjusted over his forehead. He had already been hiding out in the school when we arrived. I didn’t know much about him, but he was kind enough. He was an observer, always studying us. It made me a bit uneasy, but I had been growing accustomed to it as time went on.

“You’re not going to record us watching the movie, are you? That’d just be redundant,” Sean laughed.

“Of course not.”

“Anyway, let’s just start with A New Hope,” Jack continued his previous rant.

“We HAVE to watch them in order,” I explained.

“But all the good ones are last!” he argued.

“Sorry, pal.” I smiled as the projector hummed to life.

“The DVD’s in. How do I switch views?” Marissa asked from the control room.

“I’ll be right up to help,” Sean called from atop the stage before us.

The Theater Room was quite large for a high school, seating at least sixty comfortably. It had an eclectic feel, decorated to mimic the old cinemas of the early 20th century. A brilliant stage lined with ruby curtains acted as our main view. A large canvas screen rested above the stage platform, used on various occasions in lieu of actual dramatic performances. It would soon be our window to the imaginative realm of George Lucas.

“Getting started earlier than planned, I see?” A beautiful woman in her mid-twenties stepped in the room, dressed in loungewear. Her hair was pulled back and she was wearing black fuzzy slippers on her feet.

“Hey, Haley. Glad you could finally join us,” Sean lit up and he jogged on over to kiss his girlfriend on the cheek.

“Haley! Say hello! Introduce yourself!”

“WHAT? WHY ARE YOU FILMING ME?! OH GOD, I LOOK AWFUL! TURN THAT OFF!!” she screeched and ran out of the room. Everyone started laughing.

“C’mon, Chase, I think that’s enough for now,” Sean emphasized with a smile and I complied. I decided it would be best to recite her opening lines for her.

“That’s Haley Adler, Sean’s girlfriend. She’s not really a morning person,” I chuckled, before the screen went black.

==============================================================================================================================

Take care! :)
 
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