Jason Sanchez - When They Come

He would sometimes return to his computer, mostly out of force of habit. Sometimes, just for fun, he would click on his inbox and read the old e-mails. It was his only link to what was the outside world. It gave him some comfort and made him a little emotional to read and remember what life was before the world went to shit.

He then blinked and saw the screen was off. It was off for weeks. It was one of very few rituals left that kept his sanity in check.

Matt wiped a single tear from his eye.

“I miss them”, He thought to himself.

He heard his stomach growl a little. The noise startled him a little bit. He made his way to his refrigerator. Knowing that there was not much in it, he carefully weighed the decision to open it or not. There was a small temperature difference in there. Opening it could mean a few hours or even days lost to some freshness.

“Fuck it. If it’s rotten, it’s rotten”, Matt thought.

He opened the ice box.

The cold cuts looked slimy. The yogurt, Matt chuckled to himself; he grabbed a cup and looked out the window.

He turned back to the refrigerator and only saw baking soda and shriveled vegetables. Matt grabbed a carrot and a tomato, he saved the cabbage since it had very little mold on it.

Matt put his “feast” on the counter. He closed the refrigerator.

He took the spoiled yogurt to his window and looked both ways. He spotted some ghouls wandering around by the building. They were in range from this height. He wound his arm back and hurled the rotten yogurt at one of them.

“Bulls-eye”, he thought to himself. He smiled.

He watched the cup splatter and spray its contents all over the monster. It lazily tried to smear the stuff off of itself but soon gave up.

Matt thought about how long it’ll be covered in the goop, maybe until it rains, or forever if it stays inside of a building or something. Whatever, it was all he had left for entertainment.

Matt bit into the carrot. Carrying both vegetables in his hands, he took turns biting into them. They were both dry and spongy. He tried not to think that he could be eating mostly fungus. As long as it sustained him, he didn’t mind. However, he knew that he had maybe one day’s worth of food left with the cabbage and he wouldn’t dare touch the rotten cold cuts. The water wouldn’t last very long anymore, the smell was getting very bad and there was a film on the surface of it.

He slumped in a corner, taking a few bites and thinking of what to do about his situation.

“I have to leave”, he thought.

Matt gagged a little bit when he bit into a bunch of fluff. He knew what the fluff was and he spit it out and started coughing. It made his throat burn. He did what he could to stifle the coughs, but his body demanded it. He was surprised with how loud he sounded. Maybe it was because of how quiet he had been lately.

Matt definitely had to leave now. The noise would surely bring unwanted attention. Maybe it was psychological, but Matt heard some shuffling from higher floors heading to his direction. He got scared. He didn’t know what to do. They were closing in and he needed help. What would he do? Who could he call? What should he do? What should he bring?

Matt’s heart began to hurt. That slowed him down. His years of inactivity were a mixed blessing. His out of shape heart anchored him and caused him to slow down a bit. His thoughts cleared up.

“The shuffling wouldn’t be here for a while”, he thought.

“I have some time to get myself together and leave. I need to get out of this apartment”, Matt said to himself in a soft voice.

Breathing hard, he supported himself by placing his hand on the wall as he slowly made his way into his room to search for something, anything, that could be of use to him.

Going through his closet, he found a hockey stick covered in dust that his parents gave him years and years ago, back when his Dad had hopes of him becoming a pro athlete.

Matt laughed to himself and swung the stick around. The dust that flew off of it brought him back memories of how his mother would scold him for leaving his room so dusty. He fought back tears thinking of how those were now his good memories.

He put on winter boots even though the weather was comfortable outside.

“Everything counts, I guess”, he quietly said to himself.

He made his way to the front door of his apartment. Placing a hand on the door knob, he took in a deep breath and looked at his apartment. He thought how he may never come back again…ever.

Just as he was about to turn the knob, he felt a crisp breeze caress his face. He looked at the window and at his fire escape.

“Wait a second.” He said.

Clutching the stick hard, he walked over the fire escape and took a look around.

He saw a few ghouls milling around the entrance of the building. He laughed a little as he saw the zombie with yogurt splattered on his head.

“I doubt some people will need whatever they left behind at this point.” Matt spoke to himself at a normal voice since being outside offered him a sort of freedom.

“First, I need food.” Matt’s rumbling stomach agreed with him.

He slowly walked down the creaking fire escape, again, taking a last look into his apartment.

He gathered his courage and tiptoed down the metal structure. To his surprise, a few of the windows were boarded up with small viewing slots. He highly doubted that the people inside would help him in, let alone take down their defenses. Some of the boarded windows, the few that were there, had boards crudely torn off of them, some had half a board taken off and blood smeared on them. Matt heard loud shuffling and items behind dropped.

“No way, how would the monsters get in?” Matt realized that for some of the boarded windows, the people inside had unknowingly trapped themselves with an infected family member or neighbor.

He closed his eyes and lowered his head, trying to imagine their final moments.

Matt thought it was best to not even go near the boarded windows, shuffling or not, surely the people inside would be a little paranoid and rightfully so. Last thing he needed was some sort of sharp object or well intentioned bullet to hit him.

There were just a few floors left to look through. The lower ones didn’t seem to be boarded up for some reason.

Looking through the first clean window, he saw a neat living room everything in place and looking spotless. This made Matt scared. Gathering more of his courage, which he was surprised he had, Matt knocked the window with his hockey stick. The closed window offered protection against any beast that would pop out.

Tap, Tap, Tap.

He waited.

Nothing.

Tap, Tap…

Nothing.

Matt tried to open the window, and with no surprise, it was locked. His stomach rumbled. He needed to take a chance. Matt smashed the hockey stick into the window. It only cracked. The loud noise rattled his skull, but he closed his eyes and clenched his teeth and hit it again.

It cracked.

Again.

A small gap.

Again.

A large enough hole to go through.

Matt cleared the glass by running the hockey stick along all the corners, making it much safer for him to pass through. He didn’t hear any shuffling and didn’t see any of the ghouls on the street taking much notice of him. He took a deep breath and went inside.

The living room was immaculate to say the very least. All the couches were perfectly arrange, the place was still decorated and nothing seemed to be out of place. There was a spot of dust here and there, but nothing out of the ordinary. Matt walked through the place very carefully. Who knows what could be inside?

The door was chained shut, so no one left and he remembered that the window was still locked.