Merry Christmas! we are taking a festive break - all new one-off orders will be mailed on 2nd Jan
Summer Scavenger hunt winners
As always, you have blown me away with your creativity, you clever lot! A big thank you for joining in with the fun and without further ado, the winners are....
Prompt 1: Road Trip - short story by Shannon Tyler
Prompt 2: Off The Deep End - a micro fiction by Andy J Turley
Prompt 3: I'm Melting - crochet masterpiece by Fran Gibbin (check out all her entries, such a multi-talented smasher ❤ and winner of the big prize for entering something for each prompt)
Prompt 4: Fear at the Festival - a Mort illustration by Rachel Hunter
Prompt 5: Beach Bum - artwork in sand by Caroline Roberts (this made me chuckle!)
Prompt 6: Throw Another Limb on the Barbie - wow you guys got behind this one 😆 I couldn't pick just one so we have a poem by Nathan Litter and a microfiction by Selina Griffin and an honourable menion to Erica Lewis who had the balls to go into her local butcher's shop and ask for 'the most human looking limb you have' 😆 I feel like you might be on a watch list somewhere now Erica!!
Also well done to Markus Rabl, Selina Griffin, Nathan Littler, Caroline Roberts, Sharon Bushnell, Anne Holdorph, Rose Sheridan, Andy J Turley, Joanne Mellor and Victoria Cadwell who all completed each of the 6 prompts.
Keep scrolling to see the winner entries...
Prompt 1: Road Trip by Shannon Tyler
A picture is worth a thousand words.
That's what my mum used to say. At seven years old I didn't truly understand
the weight of those words, the only thing on my mind was the shiny new
camera I'd gotten for my birthday. It was the one I'd wanted for months, my
dad said it was just a phase and I'll stop using it in a few weeks. Jokes on him
though, fifthteen years later and I'm still taking photos, maybe not on the same
camera, but it's all the same.
I'd wanted to make a career out of photography. I'd gone to college, entered
competitions, did anything and everything I could to make it a reality. My
parents supported me the whole way through, even though I knew they
wanted me to do a more ‘practical’ job, they helped me through the highs and
lows.
“Promise me love, when you're older, you'll go and capture the beauty of your grannys home. i know you'll be off in all these exotic places, taking wonderful
pictures, but nothing can beat the natural beauty of the scottish highlands”
I promised you that day mum. I intend to keep that promise, one way or
another.
“Smokey! Just stay close will you!”
Of course the little grey cat had no intention of listening to me, if anything she
took that as motivation to trot further into the bushes.
“Fucking hell”
Huffing, I followed her into the wilderness, treading carefully amongst the
scattered leaves and branches. The sun was peeking through the trees
towering above me, dotting small splotches of light on the woodland floor,
illuminating the vivid colourful plants reaching towards its rays.
I paused, raised my camera to eye level as I knelt down on one knee. My
breathing slowed subconsciously, the quiet washed over me as I took the
picture.
I quickened my pace to catch up to the runaway cat, finding her chattering up
at a bunch of birds on a tree.
“Ah,not able to catch your dinner then, eh smokey?”
The frustrated feline responded with a little meow, tail wagging like a dog
getting praise, except this little girl was far from happy.
Shaking my head, I reached down to pick her up, “honestly smokes, why even
bother when you know i've got cat food in the car?” chuckling into her fur as I
held her close “its lunch time soon so you're just gonna have to hold on for a
little while”
Holding the still chattering cat, I began to make my way back to the car
when a noise stopped me dead in my tracks. I ducked behind a tree and
quieted my breathing, slowly peeking round to assess what I'm possibly gonna
have to deal with. At first I didn't see anything, just the same patch of greenery
as before. I didn't let my guard down though, I'm not gonna move until I'm sure
we’re safe.
A small movement catched my eye, freezing me to the spot. A human
figure, too far to determine what kind of ‘human’ it might be.
“Shit” i hissed, slowly patting my backpack, a gesture smokey knows all
to well as ‘get the fuck in the bag’. I cautiously began to stand, never taking
my eyes off the figure in the near distance, slow and careful steps bringing me
closer to the roadside, to safety. I'd gotten about halfway to the road when I
mis-stepped, a loud crunch breaking the suffocating silence, and to my pure
horror, the figure swinging round to face me. It was still too far away to make
out its face, but I wasn't spending another second waiting to find out, as I
turned and bolted towards the car.
All semblance of trying to stay quiet was out of the window, as I jumped
and weaved over rocks and through the trees, breath desperate and pained
and I pushed myself to run faster. By the time the car was in sight, my chest
was tight and my legs were burning, but I wasn't going to slow down. I pulled
out my keys from my jacket pocket and pressed the button to unlock the car,
only then did I risk a glance behind me.
The figure wasn't close, but close enough that I could finally figure out
what it was. Jaw wide open in a silent scream, blood flooded from the mouth
onto its stained shirt, its arms waved erratically over its head as it raced
towards me.
My heart dropped to my stomach. ‘Of course its a fucking runner in the
middle of nowhere’. By the time I reached the car, the runner was on my
heels, abnormal speed catching up to me in no time. I swung open the door
and threw my backpack, along with smokey, into the passenger seat, before
jumping into the driver's seat and starting the engine. As soon as I put the key
in, the runner slammed into my door, shaking the whole car as I did so, then
began slamming its face into the window.
“Fuck fuck fuck” i turned the key and the car came to life. Glancing out
the window I saw the mangled and bloody face of what once was a man,
someone's son, silently screaming at me from outside. His eyes were pure
white except the black of his pupil fixed on me, rotten and bloody teeth
gnawing at the glass which separated us, skin turned ashen and decayed.
Red and yellow liquid spewed from his mouth on the window, black tongue
smeared the vile smelling fluid all over the glass. I resisted the urge to throw
up.
I briefly looked into his eyes before speeding off down the road. Not
slowing till he was a small dot in the rear view mirror. That was too close. Too
fucking close. Where did it even come from? How did i not notice a fucking
infected was that close? My chest began to rapidly rise and fall, images
running through my mind of what might had happened had I not been quick
enough, had I tripped or not even noticed its presence at all. My head was
spinning from all the possible scenarios that could have ended in disaster, I
could feel the tears threatening to fall.
A small meow brought me back to reality. “ oh, sorry smokes, it's okay
to come out now”, a small grey head with bright yellow eyes popped out from
the opening in the bag, before jumping out and making herself comfortable on
the front seat. “Okay buddy, i'll get you fed, don't worry”, i pried one hand off
the steering wheel to pat her head “don't worry”
It's been months now since this whole thing started, weeks since i've
seen another alive person, and days since i last found some food. Thankfully
for Smokey, cat food wasn't the main priority for people fleeing the country, so
we had plenty for her. I, however, was left to scrounge what was left from
homes and shops, my once picky preference thrown out the window in favour
of actually eating that day.
I tried not to think back to the early days, where confusion and fear was
plastered on the face of every person I saw, the not knowing and lack of action
from the people in power, leaving us to fend for ourselves. I was lucky, my dad
was one of the few people in the UK who legally owned guns, so when the
dead started rising and infecting others, we had an advantage over the other
people on our street. We piled into his land rover, taking as much survival and
camping gear we could grab, and raced to the nearest gun shop to stock up
on ammo.
“You can find food, kill what you need to kill to eat and purify water you need
to drink. But guns. Guns and bullets are limited, so grab what you can when
you can”. Somebody had already rammed into the gun shop, so my dad and I
snuck in to grab what we needed. That's when I saw my first dead body.
Sprawled on the cold concrete, blood pooling around his head, eyes open and
blank. Even now after all the corpses I've seen, walking or not, I will never
forget that one.
After driving for what seemed like hours, I finally pulled over to the side
of the road. I checked my surroundings before opening the car door, and
stepped out into the fresh scottish air. I left the door open for Smokey to follow,
and took in the sight before me. Ocean spread out into the far distance, waves
glistening like glass reflecting light, the familiar sound of seagulls and their
silhouettes in the sky. I wish the rest of the world was as peaceful as this
moment.
After making sure we were definitely alone, I opened the boot to log
today's provisions; two large bottles of still water, five tins of beans, two tins of
fruit in syrup, three protein bars and a can of Dr pepper. Not great. I pulled out
my map to check where the nearest town was. The great thing about being in
a small country, pretty much everywhere is easy to reach with a car. We
weren't far from Inverness. Big places meant more loot, but it also meant more
dead and dying.
“You ready smokes? This is gonna be a big one”
The little cat responded with a chirp, and jumped back in the passenger
seat. Well if she's ready to go, then I'd better be too. These provisions are not
gonna fill themselves up.
We’d made our way into the centre without much hassle, which i
couldn't decide if that was good or bad. Our main obstacles were cars and
crap in the roads, as well as the occasional dead body. It had been eight
months since the outbreak, in the first few weeks bodies had littered the
streets, blood pooled into the cracks of our modern society. As the months
passed by it was becoming less and less frequent that i would see an
excessive amount of bodies, whether people had actually escaped the country
or just joined the army of the dead i wasn't sure, but either way i needed to
eat, and a big place like inverness had to have something i could take.
I parked the car in the road, hoping it would blend into the sea of
abandoned vehicles, and covered my stock with a blanket. Probably not the
smartest thing to do but it had worked so far, and i wasn't planning on being
away long, i needed to set up camp before it got dark.
Most shops had, as I expected, already been broken into, so there
wasn't much left. Inspecting the map again, I noticed the Eastgate shopping
centre was a few streets away, but that wasn't what interested me. There was
a big iceland down the road from it, and an ALDI just a little further up past
that. A shopping centre probably has more variety to offer, but if it's anything
like the previous ones I've encountered, then it's best to avoid at all costs.
Survivors tend to flock towards big places like that, and this far along in the
apocalypse they probably aren't friendly.
Smokey by my side we headed back to the car, leaving it for too long
wasnt the best idea, passing a few little shops as we went. I cautiously
checked around every car we passed, not liking the idea of having my ankles
bitten through. Smokey took pleasure in jumping from car to car, turning this
apocalyptic world into her own playground. How I wish I could do the same.
The dead seemed to have no interest in anything that wasn't human and
breathing, so wildlife seemed to have finally caught a break, but that didn't
stop me from thinking about what might happen to my cat if those ‘things’ got
their hands on her.
I paused when I looked inside a house and spotted a huge cat tree near
the window. Yeah, we've gotta check that out. I paused in front of the door,
giving it a slight knock, hoping anything alive or dead wouldn't answer. All
quiet. The door was already unlocked, so I let myself in, gun raised and ready
for any threat who wants to make themselves known. I wasn't going to stay
long, so I neglected a full sweep of the house and instead made my way
towards the room with the cat tree.
Glass and bits of broken wood covered the moulding carpet, a mist of
dust settled on every surface in the room. I patted my shoulder for smokey to
jump on, which she happily did, and continued towards the window. The cat
tree was huge. Shaped like a tree, each branch held a once soft platform with
its own unique charm, one a little hut to hide it, one a little basket to sleep in,
and one with feathered toys dangling down to play with. It was beautiful.
“Someone here really loved their cat” I smiled. Smokey lunged to jump
on one of the platforms, but seeing it covered in glass I quickly stopped her.
“Sorry girl, not this one”
Smokey responded with a low whine and a harsh stink eye. I pet her
head and mumbled an apology before quickly scanning the room for anything
useful. I turned to the left and my heart nearly jumped out of my chest.
A giant broken mirror lay propped up against the wall, cracked surface
distorting my already unkempt appearance. I came closer, the only mirrors I've
had available recently are the ones in my car, and they don't paint a pretty
picture. No matter how hard I scrub, or how much I bathe, my once fair skin
was stained with the remnants of mud and blood.
I'd paid hundreds on skincare, applying numerous serums and
moisturisers, all for that perfect ‘poreless’ look everybody but me seemed to
have. I'd spend hours washing and styling my hair, applying masks and
creams to try to create a vision of ‘im doing okay, i take care of myself’.
All for what?
My once long, vibrant red hair was cut short, just past my ears, dull as a
wet foggy morning. Strands fell over my face and clung to my skin. Small
flakes of dandruff were dotted around the top of my hair. How long had it been
since I washed it, properly washed it?
I had loved my hair. Not only for its appearance but how it connected
me to my family. Me and my sister would spend nights watching movies and
braiding each other's hair, mine taking the longest since it reached down past
my waist. School friends would call me rapunzel, adults would always
compliment its beauty and length, it was nice having something people loved.
I liked being ‘the girl with really long hair’.
When the apocalypse began, my mum suggested cutting it. It was far
too easy to grab, and would just get in my face, so having it short was the
most logical choice. But I had refused. Still too attached to the comfort and
security it gave me, the memories hidden in its strands.
Hair holds memories. That's what I believed in.
So after i lost my family, and it was only me and smokey left, i’d kept it
long to remind me of all the mornings my mum would comb and style my hair
for school, the ruffles on the head my dad would give me when i did well at
something, even the times my sister would tug at it slightly when i had my
headphones on in the car and she wanted my attention. Even Smokey had
memories with my hair, like the time she decided to chew through a long piece
of my hair whilst I slept, and I woke up almost in tears thinking it was the end
of the world.
Funny how things turned out.
A few months of just me, smokey and the road, I was trying to find
supplies from abandoned houses on a residential street, without much
success. I had turned those houses inside out looking for anything useful,
when I came across a garage full of different tools and gadgets, many of
which were probably useless now, but I wasn't about to leave empty handed. I
had drained the place dry of anything I deemed useful and was about to leave,
when a loud grunt spun me around, and I came face to face with an infected.
She had come through the door leading into the main house wearing a
blood stained white nightgown, fuzzy orange slippers still hanging onto her
feet as she charged towards me. I’d blocked her attack with my gun,
struggling to push this old lady back, her jaw open wide and dripping black
blood and chunks of red, screaming at me with bloodshot eyes.
After much effort I'd shoved her back against the wall, holding her there
till an idea came to mind. A large metal cabinet stood a few feet away from
me. I took a deep breath and stepped back, willing the infected woman to
follow, before dodging and pushing the cabinet onto her, sending her back
against the wall and pinning her there.
As I'd gone to move around her, she had grabbed a fist full of my
ponytail in her free, veiny hand, yanking me back towards her, the heat of her
putrid breath smacking the back of my neck. I’d had a split second to react
before she could grab anymore of me, so I grabbed my dads knife from my
side and sliced through my hair without a second thought. It was only after I
escaped and jumped in my car that the gravity of what had just happened hit
me. Not only had I nearly died, but my hair, my hair was gone.
All those years growing it, taking care of it, the memories, gone in an
instant for the sake of survival. I cried that night, the most I had cried since
witnessing my loved ones horrific deaths. So silly, crying over hair. But I still
cried.
Looking at it now, it was barely a shadow of what it used to look like, its
uneven edges casting a sharp shadow around my face, extenuating the dark
circles under my eyes. I looked wild. My light brows overgrown and full, light
pink lips chapped and dry. If I looked like this a year ago I would have had a
breakdown. It all seemed so silly now.
I pried myself away from the mirror, not willing to continue down the
painful path of revisiting the past. I focused my attention back on the room
around me, the present.
There was a wall lined with books, small ornaments and trinkets placed
in between the novels. Family pictures lined the walls, young children with
their parents, and Christmas family photos in a bright red frame decorated
with resin holly. My heart ached. I decided to have a quick look when a
sudden thump came from upstairs.
I stopped in my tracks and stayed as still as I could, listening for any
other sounds, gun ready in my hands. After not hearing another sound, I
thought about checking upstairs. I wouldn't usually, sudden unexplained
noises usually mean something bad, but the continued silence after that pulled
at my curiosity, and before I knew it I was ascending the stairs.
I cautiously entered the first room, gun up and pointed, but saw nothing.
I stepped inside, and a flurry of feathers shot out of the window. Bloody birds. I
huffed and turned to walk out when I noticed the bed. It was a large king's
size, faded floral patterns decorated the musty bedding, a large wooden
headboard jutted out purposely from the top of the bed. The bed was lumpy.
Lumpy like a person, or persons, where inside. I warily approached, silent as I
could to not alert whatever was in the bed.
Only when I got close did I fully understand what this was.
Four bodies, a man, a woman and two children lay side by side under
the covers, eyes closed as though sleeping. Only there was very little skin left,
and what skin there was left was rotten and infested with flies. I tumbled back
and gagged. These people. They couldn't take it. The pain. The suffering. This
was no world for children. They died together, wrapped in a loving embrace,
comfortable in their own bed. At least that's what I hoped. I muttered a small
sorry and made my way out onto the street, heading straight for my car.
Soon we were heading towards big iceland, gun loaded and ready for
any unpleasant encounters we might have.
We arrived at its doors and I signalled for smokey to wait outside, gun
raised as I stepped into the dusty gloom of the abandoned store. Of course
the shelves were wiped clean, but I continued on with my sweep, only
stopping to stare at the pool of dried blood by the tills. It looked way too much
for one person to have bled out, the image of countless dead bodies piled on
top of each other invading my thoughts.
As soon as I was sure it was safe, I gave a low whistle for Smokey to
come in. I grabbed a trolley that was left on its side and gestured for the little
cat to jump in. She happily did, and she was soon stood up peering out from
the top of the trolley, another ride added to her playground. I weaved through
the isles checking top to bottom anything people had missed. A lone tin of
tuna was hiding under one of the shelves, and I held it up for Smokey to see.
She gave an excited trill and began rubbing her head on the cold surface of
the tin.
“ Yeah, yeah don't worry girl” i grinned, patting her head “we can split
this”
We continued on, finding odd bits that people had either missed or just
left. A couple of individual toilet rolls, a few more cans of food and even a
bottle of cordial. I gave a little internal cheer for the last one, I always did have
a sweet tooth. We finally made it to the aisle Smokey was most looking
forward to, and thankfully for her, there were sachets of cat food littered along
the shelves and floor.
“It really is your world isn't it Smokes” i cant believe how lucky this little
cat is, if only her luck would rub off on me. I began scooping up the sachets of
cat food when a sound stopped me in my tracks.
The glass doors to the store were broken, leaving shards of glass
scattered around the entrance. I had been as silent as I could, stepping over
the sharp material, but I wasn't as nimble as a cat, and a small crunch had
escaped from where I stepped. That same sound had just echoed through the
store, louder and messier, like the cause of the noise had no worry over who
might hear. Panic shot through my chest and I dove down to the ground,
Smokey soon following after, lying down next to my arm and lowering her
head. I tried to listen to any other sounds, groaning, grunting, breathing.
The dead had become intelligent enough in the later months to mimic
the livings silence, and learned to adapt to this new world the same way
survivors had too. Thankfully in most of those cases it was the ones who had
been infected nearer the beginning, the runner in the woods was most likely
infected recently, and most of the infected from the beginning had moved to
bigger cities or died out. I couldn't risk it though, living or dead, I didn't want to
take my chances.
I snuck to the edge of the aisle to glance towards the front of the store,
worry rose in my throat when I couldn't see anything. Fuck! Where is it? I
slowly began to stand, gun raised to eye level, breath slow and controlled. I
took careful steps forward, fully prepared to fight for my scraps, aiming down
every aisle until I got to the last one.
I froze.
Standing in the middle of aisle one, between the large dirty freezers,
was a grand red stag. Its flaming coat glowed in the sparse light the building
offered, head raised high, antlers stretching out like tree branches in a forest.
It stepped carefully over the remains of humans mess, silent, as though it
wasn't actually there, like an illusion. After a second I regained my composure
and slowly raised my camera that I had hanging from my neck, aimed at the
stag and shot.
I barely had a chance to stand up fully before I noticed the stag making
its way towards me. Every muscle in my body became still. This giant creature
leisurely came closer and closer, so much so that I could hear its low breaths,
and its hooves on the hard cold supermarket floor, yet I felt no fear. I knew
exactly how dangerous these creatures could be, how easily it could crush my
skull and break my bones, but this creature seemed so placid and gentle.
I dared not move, even when its wet nose sniffed at my hair, so close I
could smell the grass and greenery on its fur. I carefully looked up, avoiding its
eyes in fear of spooking the great beast. I could see the fine details of its coat,
the deep black eyes full of life and experience looking down at me, long strong
legs unmoving like the Scottish mountains.
My heart had finally began to slow, realisation of how truly wonderful
this moment was, when an ear shattering sound exploded behind me, and the
magnificent creature fell to the floor before my eyes. I hurriedly ducked down,
in fear that whatever had injured the stag might strike me too. I spun around
as I did so, and the first thing I saw was a scruffy man aiming a shotgun in my
direction.
“ The stags mine” his voice was like his appearance, rough and messy,
faint Scottish accent peeking through his words. He started striding towards
me, heavy work boots echoing through the desolate store, gun pointed
straight at my head. I raised my hands quickly above my head, shaking
uncontrollably from fear, “please!” I begged, voice cracking “I don't want the
stag, I just want to leave”. I risked a glance up, hoping to see some human
compassion in his eyes, an understanding that we are both just trying to
survive in this horrific world.
But I saw nothing.
“You with people?” His gun was right in my face now, looking down the
barrel at certain death. I gulped. How am I supposed to answer this? Tell the
truth and hope he doesn't see me as a threat and let me go, but that could
mean he would do something worse than killing me, and lying and saying I'm
not alone could anger him and cause him to do something rash, especially if
he realised I'm bluffing.
Fuck it.
“No, no, just me and my cat” I stammered. God, I hope we get out of
this okay.
The man looked at me like I was a piece of shit under his shoe, and the
same look followed when he layed eyes on Smokey, who by this point was
huddled by my side, fur puffed up and ears back as she made a low growl.
He finally lowered his gun, hope rising up inside of my chest, “so there's
nobody here to look after a cute thing like you?”, the hope dropped like a
boulder to the ground, crushing any chance this could go well. This guy was
twice my size, and I had dropped my gun when the shot rang out, making it
too far to reach quickly. I had a knife on my hip but if he grabbed my arms then
what? Why was this happening?
“I've got a group at the shopping centre”, he leisurely knelt down in front
of me, so close I could feel the heat from his rancid breath on my face “lotta
guys and a lotta guns, not many girls though”.
A disgusting smirk spread across his face, revealing rows of black
rotten teeth “show me you can give us something and we’ll look after you real
good”
I could feel the vomit rising to my throat. This disgusting prick. I needed
to get out of this somehow, preferably without any bloodshed, but I don't think
this guy would allow that. I tried playing coy, anything to bring his mind
somewhere else “i have food and ammo in my car, plenty of water and
vitamins”, I looked at him pleadingly, eyes begging him to not do this, “take
whatever you want, i even have food in that trolley over there”, my limbs
began to shake uncontrollably, “please just let us go”.
I bundled Smokey up in my arms, shielding her from this monster
whose vile intentions were all too clear. The man's smile grew even bigger,
excitement flickering through his eyes “oh honey, i don't want your shit”, he
raised his calloused dirty hand to my face, crooked thumb rubbing my bottom
lip, “what you've got to offer is much more valuable than a few cans of shite”.
My eyes stung with tears, lip trembling in the fear of what was about to
happen. “ Now be a good girl and take off your-”. His sentence was cut short
by my knife plunging into his neck, blood spilling from the point of contact in
small spurts. I finally looked him dead in his eyes, wide with fear and
confusion, barely a second to react before I pulled out the knife and plunged it
back inside. Again and again, he collapsed to the ground, the only sound
coming from his lips was a pained groan. He lay on his back as blood pooled
around his head, “FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU FUCK YOU!”I
screamed in his blood splattered face, tears streaming from my eyes as I
continued to stab him in an uncontrollable frenzy.
Visions from the past invaded my mind, flashes of a residential street
covered in flames, the dead ripping out the throat of my sister, her extended
arm reaching out to me in a desperate plea for help, her own voice gurgled by
the blood spurting from her mouth. Why didn't I help her! Why didn't I do more
to save her!
My arms lifted and fell in a blur of uncontrolled rage and hurt, vision
clouded by the tears streaming down my face.
My sister's body was consumed in the blink of an eye into the mass of
the infected, each of them tearing chunks from her flesh, fingers digging into
her skin and tearing her apart. Why didn't I stop it? I could have done
something! Why am I here? What have I done to deserve to be here?
By the time I regained control over my mind, I was covered in blood.
The lump of flesh below me was unrecognisable, barely human looking, just a
clump of bloody meat in a pool of dark blood. My arms hurt. Fuck they hurt. I
tried to stand, but my legs went numb and I collapsed back to the floor, my
mud stained jeans drenched in blood. I was still gripping the knife, which only
now I realised my hand was holding the blade rather than the hilt, my blood
mixed with the man's remains dripped from my palm to my thighs.
A little meow snapped me back. Smokey stood next to me, big eyes
staring into my own, willing me back to reality. I released a breath i didnt even
realise I was holding.
“Im okay girl, im okay”
I took a wobbly step out into the fresh air, breathing deeply, feeling the
crisp air fill my lungs, grounding me in this moment. Mind clear and sharp, i
set about doing what I needed to do. I grabbed my first aid kit from my car and
started cleaning and wrapping my injured hand. Thankfully the cut wasn't too
deep, but I had no idea what that man was carrying, so I made a note to
continuously check for signs of infection and anything else that could go
wrong in the next few days. I took a few seconds to find a change of clothes,
the blood was wet and sticky on my skin, it made me heave.
Then I scanned the car park for any new vehicles. Perhaps the stranger
had arrived in a car, I thought it was unlikely considering I didn't hear anything,
but it was worth a check. In the distance, I spotted a grimy white van parked
haphazardly on the pavement, which I'm certain wasn't there earlier, and
made my way towards it. It was open, and a selection of bullets and weapons
lined the floor of the back of the van. This had to be his, right?
The tank was fairly full, and with this much space it would be stupid to
not make use of this, it's not like the man would be needing it any time soon.
Perhaps his ‘friends’ might, but I'll be long gone by the time they find what's
left of him. The keys were already in the ignition, god that man was stupid,
and parked it right next to my own car. I push the trolley with my new finds out
of the store and towards my car, unloading my provisions into the trolley, then
loading them into the van.
Smokey was perched on top of an overturned trolley, unwilling to give a
hand in anything other than moral support, which was enough for me. “No
rush smokes, but i think my screaming might have attracted anything with ears
in this area”, my throat was sore and my words came out hoarse and raspy,
months of nobody to talk to except my cat was finally catching up with me.
With everything loaded and ready to go, my mind finally came to the
stag. The poor thing was dead, no doubt about it, and the van was big. Maybe
I could take it to a more secure place and take what I need, only issue being,
how was I going to get a over 100kg stag in the van. There was enough room
around all the food and gear I've got, but my body was exhausted.
I rustled around inside the van a bit more and found a large piece of
tarp pushed to the side. This might work. I went to work shifting as much of
the tarp under the heavy creature as I could, avoiding looking at the bloody
pulp on the floor. The smell was repulsive. As soon as it felt secure enough I
attached the tarp to the van with a few ropes, and drove forward slowly,
checking the rearview mirror every few seconds.
Finally the stag was out of the dingy gloom of the store, with little
damage done to it or the tarp. Now for the hard bit. I grab my foldable ladder
from the boot of my car and place the ropes used to drag the creature under
the ladder, laid out on the ground. Then I carefully rolled the stag over and
placed the extended ladder underneath, finally letting go of the animal and
letting it rest on the ladder.
Wrapping the stag up tightly with the rope, I carefully lifted the top of the
ladder onto the edge of the back of the van. My muscles screamed in protest,
but all the running and scavenging for food in dangerous places had given me
strength I never had before, and slowly but surely the top on the ladder was
hanging onto the back of the van.
Mentally preparing myself, I set to work painfully edging the ladder up
towards the van, short heaves of power inching the animal further into the van.
After what felt like an hour the stag was finally in the vehicle. I crumpled into
the driver seat, the little grey cat already waiting expectantly for me on the
passenger seat, curled up in a cosy little ball.
“Lifes good for some, huh Smokes?”
The little cat chirped in agreement, curling even tighter into herself and
closing her eyes. Looking back into the van, I smiled at today's haul. I didn't
pay attention to the lingering image in my mind, the one of a corpse covered in
blood, head almost severed from his neck, left to rot on the cold floor of a
supermarket.
I shook the image out of my brain. I did what I needed to do. I survived.
He didn't, even though I gave him the chance.
“How about we make our way to Loch Ness? I heard it's pretty quiet this
time of year” pulling out of the car park, i barely glanced at the horde of
infected making there way towards the iceland, “who knows, maybe we’ll even
get a glimpse of Nessie”
Prompt 2: Off the Deep End by Andy Turley
Toby's toes curled gripping the edge of the board as he starred down at the pool Beneath him. It hadn't looked that high from the ground but now 10 meters up he felt the height in his gut, he stepped back and clasped the handrail, a group of boys from his class were laughing, the games teacher called up to him "come on Toby, other people want to have a go". Toby stood cold sweat covering him and making him shiver, white knuckles matching the handrails paint job.
The laughter below was getting louder, the games teacher was trying to shout to him over the exaggerated cackles, he would never live this down. He hadn't wanted to climb up here in the first place, but how do you say that when the whole class is listening, looking for something else to mock him for, but now he had blown it and just shown how much of a pansy coward he really was, Toby closed his eyes trying to stifle his tears.
The noise below was getting louder, the laughter had been replaced by shouting, Toby peered downwards, the games teacher was choking one of the boys with one hand while thrashing a fist at the others, what the.. Toby forgot where he was for a moment and clutched the handrail tighter to steady himself. It was a full-scale fight, the class had turned on the teacher, the boys were howling now, the teacher had disappeared from view as the mob piled on top of him, a wet pool of blood blossoming out from the melee.
The boys separated from the huddle, some holding and gnawing at parts of the games teacher his defiled body prostrate on the floor tiles. Toby let out a scream and with it the boy’s heads turned to the diving board their limbs slouching toward the ladder.
Toby watched, terrified as they crowded the base of the ladder, uncoordinated hands unable to grasp the rungs while their slack jaws grasped at Toby from a distance. Toby called for help at the top of his voice again and again his cries echoing around the swimming pool, he collapsed on the board his throat horse and heard the screams from outside followed by a deafening silence.
How long he had sat there he wasn't sure, the light was beginning to fade, the boys below were still trying to grasp the ladder rungs to get up to him, he could only just make them out churning and snapping their teeth. Toby stood and braced himself on the handrail, then with a push ran to the board end and dived into the water below.
Prpmpt 3: I'm Melting - a crochet masterpiece by Fran Gibbon
Prompt 4: Fear At The Festival by Rachel Hunter
Prompt 5: Beach Bum - artwork in sand by Caroline Roberts
Prompt 6: Throw Another Limb on The Barbie, a poem by Nathan Littler
In charnel grounds where shadows creep,
The damned meet,
Where embers glow, and secrets sleep,
To feast on this bounty of human meat.
The world lies shattered, sun eclipsed,
Cold, stark night drawing in,
Morality's compass, long dismissed,
In this grim twilight, bone split from skin.
Around the pyre, the flesh-eaters gather,
Their laughter echoes, harsh and cruel,
Once kindred spirits, friends and lovers,
Now ravenous fiends, their souls unmerciful.
The air hangs heavy, thick with dread,
As flesh sizzles on the grate,
A macabre banquet, richly spread,
Where hunger's grip seals human fate.
"Throw another limb on the barbie, Jack"
A voice proclaims amidst the throng,
Like hungry wolves, they attack,
Eating pork-like meat, all night long.
The feast continues, night descends,
A symphony of screams and cries,
Where humanity's spirit ends,
And primal instincts rise.
In this wasteland, bleak and dire,
Where love has died,
The cannibals dance 'round their pyre,
Their monstrous hunger, satisfied.
Prompt 6: Throw Another Limb on The Barbie, a micro-fiction by Selina Griffin
You get used to it eventually. The taste I mean. Not the…well, not the actual...what you’re actually doing. Not sure we can ever get used to that. I mean, I did meat-free Monday in the before-times. Even Veganuary one year until the 12th when I saw all that left over cheese from Christmas in the fridge and something in me just snapped. They should have tried for another month really. Anyway, now look where I am. Where we all are. Those of us still standing of course.
But the taste is OK. Some people say it tastes like pork but it doesn’t. It doesn’t taste like anything else really. It tastes like people. I mean; how else would it taste? Maybe it tastes similar to monkey? I don’t know. I’ve never eaten monkey. The zoo animals went pretty quickly when we first ran out of food. Those that hadn’t already starved to death of course. Poor things; in their cages wondering when someone was going to come and feed them. Now that is inhumane. Not this. This is just…survival, necessary. There are too many of us (always have been) and with resources as they are, food so scarce, it makes sense not to waste everything.
Of course, I prefer mine culled. We all do, but no-one wants to admit that. But the Natural Causes are usually a bit….chewy, or just weird. You have to stew them for ages.. Like mutton I guess. And of course despite not wasting things, we do chuck the brain. Too much risk of CJD; reminiscent of that beef scare back in the UK in the 90s or whenever it was. But other than that, one person can go quite a long way if you know what you’re doing. Which I do. It’s largely why I’ve not been culled.