|Red Wheelbarrow WEP + IWSG Writing Challenge|
I was surprised at how odd it was that I no longer was able to even think of it as something that was once human. But then again, this wasn't really a very humane time for any of us, was it?
Perhaps there was something here, in the garage. I reached out blindly and took a few steps to what I thought was the rear of the garage. I hadn't planned for it to happen here, but sometimes an opportunity arises and you just have to grab it.
My knee hit something hard in the pitch black and I reached my hand down cautiously. Metal. Cold as ice in this weather. Rounded. Was that a handle? I shuffle walked around the edge and stubbed my bare toe on something. Damn that hurt. Bending even further down now, I felt a tire. What was this? A wheelbarrow? Perfect.
I had come in here looking for something. What, I couldn't even remember now. Shock must be setting in. Adrenaline. The killing could do that to someone. Killing? Is that even what it was? Weren't they already dead? Well, maybe not. I didn't know the science behind it all. There wasn't enough time in the day to waste it trying to understand what had happened. Once the sun went down and the electricity was shut off everywhere, all you could do was hunker down and wait for sunrise. Try to sleep if you could through the noise they made.
It was the noise that would really make you crazy. The last bit of humanity that they had, and you almost wished they didn't. It was like listening to a wounded animal. That deep guttural moaning of something not quite dead yet, but very aware and terrified that it was soon going to be. It was the sound of fear. You could even smell it on them when they came close to you.
No one knew how or where it started. Almost overnight it just "happened." Newspaper reports said that it was something from space that came down with a dead satellite. Television newscasters said that it was a biological weapon experiment gone wrong. The vegans said it was from chemicals in the meat. The meat industry said it was pesticides on the plants. Bible thumpers said it was "The Enemy" or "Satan." Satanists said it was God. The Left said it was The Right, and The Right said it was the Conservatives. I really didn't care anymore. I just wanted to survive.
I rolled the wheelbarrow back to where I thought it was on the floor. That's odd. Maybe it is over there just a bit? I stretched my foot out, not wanting to really touch it again, but knowing I had to find it to get it into the wheelbarrow.
With all the fingerpointing, we still didn't know how it was transmitted from person to person, or if it was airborne, in the water, or just a sudden mutation of everyone's DNA. You could go to bed with your significant other and wake up with ... something else entirely. Only you wouldn't even know it until after the sun went down. For some reason, the artificial light showed you what it really was. Like it reflected the light differently, even candlelight.
Where is it? I could have sworn it was ... ah, found it. Thank God. I was starting to freak out a little. Ugh, what a smell. Deep breath, hold, get it in the wheelbarrow, turn, breathe, again. Watch out for the shovel that I used to kill it, don't stub ... ouch! Damn it! Why didn't I put shoes on before I came in here? Oh, yeah, now I remember why I came in here. Shoes. I'd left my shoes in here because they were muddy after the rain, so I took them off before I shut the garage door.
The thing about it all was that it wasn't even really considered dangerous. I mean, no one had been killed by one that I knew of. But we didn't waste any time killing them. Because ... I don't know why. If they weren't dangerous, what were they? Different? They didn't look different in the daylight. It was just after dark when you knew they were. Because of the sound. And that smell. Wait, is that sunlight under the garage door? Finally!
I opened the garage door and turned to see what it looked like. The wheelbarrow was red with all the blood and gore. I'd grabbed the shovel when I heard it and smelled it after I flipped the light on in the closed garage. Swinging wildly, I'd hit the bulb and plunged the garage back into darkness, but I could hear it screaming in fear and pain as I struck it again and again. I must have hit it a thousand times trying to make sure it was really dead, not knowing where I was hitting, just hearing the blade of the shovel hit flesh and bone again and again. Splatter had hit my face and hands, and I'd almost slipped once in the blood on the floor.
In the daylight, I could see that it was not as large as I had thought it was, and wait ... is that blond hair? Those pajamas, they look just like ... oh no no no no no no no NO NO NO NO NO NO NO ... DJ! My son my baby boy my DJ! NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!
Word Count: 972:FCA
Word Count: 972:FCA
This is my first time writing with "Write...Edit...Publish" and I welcome your comments!