| Episode 019 | |
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“Take a little trip, take a little trip, War, Lowrider
When I reach the edge of road 5, I set the trip odometer at zero. I turn onto what seems to be road 3 and start to drive around the bio-dome. I remember bio-domes from a city simulator I had on my computer, but I never fathomed them being this big. I drove at a brisk pace and it took me a while to just reach the edge. Road 3 coasts around the bio-dome. Since I can’t really see more than what’s immediately in my lights, I can only guess by the slight, but constant turn I have to maintain to keep on the road and away from the tree line. I see movement. The SUV skids as I swerve as a monster jumps out from the tree line that densely crowds the road. But even as he lands, I’m already past. I look out the rearview window and watch him, running faster than possible, even as he disappears into the red-lit darkness behind me. I turn back to the front and focus on driving ahead. As I drive, I see more monsters as they jump out. But I pass them before they can get near, and I watch them chase after me in the darkness of my rear lights. It takes me almost ten minutes before I see light again. It’s another town. This one, though, is considerably bigger. I see a series of intersections, as well as a variety of buildings, some as tall as five stories high. I see vehicles littering the roads here or there. Most of them have been crashed, with their doors open, exposing the interior of the vehicle to the harsh night. I see bodies, but I try not to look too close. I don’t see any monsters, though. I come to a small shopping center and I pull into the parking lot. Far away from anything, if the monsters show up, I’ll have a least a minute’s warning. I look around at the night sky and consider the non-existent horizon. I check the clock on the turned off stereo, surprised to see the time. “6:42.” I say. I look up at the nothing. “Either the sun should have been up or should be coming up.” I yawn. It dawns on me as I look around in the darkness of the dead world that I have no idea how long I’ve been up. My stomach rumbles as my eyes droop a bit, the exhaustion of the day catching up with me. I can feel my heart slowing just a bit. I look around in the SUV, seeing a variety of buildings. But then as I look past the back, I see a layout of similarly designed buildings of varying heights. Apartments.
Shady Apartments. That’s what the sign says as I pass into the residential area. All the apartments are four stories, with entrances on the first and third floors. Layered on the sides of hills, the brick and red-roof structures have bridges leading across to the third floors from the top of the adjoining hills, creating a bridge-like effect. I pull into the leasing office, watching for any signs of movement. Being so far away from the research facility, it’s hard to remember where I am or what’s going on. The area doesn’t look that different from Williamsburg. I step out with my machete ready, leaving my backpack in the SUV. I stand with the door open, listening while I try to decide if I should lock my door or not. A quick getaway versus the chance of something sneaking in while I’m out. I lock the doors. I swing the metal handle of the machete in my hand as I walk towards the leasing office’s door. I keep an ear out for any sounds, but nothing comes close. No animals or radios. Nothing. I try the door hesitantly, honestly not expecting it to open. But when it does, the light from the outside comes casting in, spreading light over the empty hall. Paper litters the floor and the stench of blood oozes out, but I don’t see any bodies. I step just inside the darkness of the room, letting my eyes adjust. It’s tan-colored place. The beige carpeting matches the deeply off-white walls and the light brown furniture around the space. Most of the table-tops are glass, while the desk in the far corner near the sliding glass door is heavy wood. On either side of the room are two hallways that led back to opposing rooms. I glance down the hallway to the left as I inch towards the one on the right. I see nothing to left, but it’s perfectly dark. When I reach the entrance to the right hallway, I dash my head in front of it, seeing nothing. I listen, but hear nothing. I swing around the doorway and the silence hits me with the darkness. Nothing. I move to the first room, letting my eyes adjust even further to the darkness. I can slowly make out a desk and several metal cases on the walls. Still no bodies, but the stench of blood is greater. I make my way over to the metal boxes on the walls and search them carefully. It’s the fourth box I check for a title when I finally read ‘keys’. I reach for it, but the lock on the side keeps it closed. I look at the lock, then look around the room. I step the few steps over to the door and close it almost completely. Going back over to the lock, I draw back with the heavy metal handle of the machete. It takes me six blows to knock the hinge of the lock off. The soft metal bends and gives, finally breaking free. I listen for a brief moment, but I don’t wait for too long. I open the metal box and check the keys. Seeing a variety, I grab as heavy handful a stuff them into my pocket. I grab another handful, then turn back to the door. I open it slowly, listening. I hear movement. I freeze. I hear the bushes moving outside. I listen. I hear the bushes, but no steps. No hisses or growls. And for the first time, it hits me. It’s the wind. I step out into the hallway, then into the main room. I don’t bother with the other rooms or anything else in the office. I got what I wanted. Outside, I get inside the SUV fast and pull out. I drive over to the center of the parking lot and park. It’s not as spacious as the mini-mall, but it will still give me some response time. I pour the keys out of my pocket and consider them. I glance around at the addresses of the apartments around me, trying to figure out which keys go to which apartments. I slowly realize that all the keys that are even numbers are top-level apartments. I discard all the other keys to the passenger-side floorboard and lay out all the keys I want on the passenger seat. Cranking the great beast again, I set out to match up a secure-looking apartment with a key on the seat next to me.
It’s not the most remote apartment, but it was on a corner of the building, it had a bridge leading to it, and it oversaw the most of the complex. 1816-B. When I open the front door, I’m pleased that it was locked. I step inside, shutting the door behind me. The air in the apartment feels stale, like it’s been enclosed for a long time. Worse, however, is the smell of blood. I drop my backpack and stick by the door, keeping my machete in hand. I lock the door behind me and stay still, listening and looking. The apartment’s pretty sparsely decorated. Either they just moved in, or their not too well off. The front room is just a square, while the kitchen is next to me. Ahead is an opening that leads into the television room, with a set of stairs shooting off to the right and a hallway to the left. I sneak into the kitchen, opening up the fridge. The light doesn’t come on, which would jive with the absent numbers on the microwave. But a breath of cold air hits me from inside. “It hasn’t been too long.” I whisper. But I shut the door. I make my way to the hallway, checking around the corner. I see nothing just like I hear nothing. The hallway leads to nothing more than an empty washer and dryer connection, with a bathroom at the far end. I check it, even the small cabinets underneath, but still no sign of the origin of the blood smell. I check the living room, seeing the sliding glass door that leads three stories down. The room, though, seems untouched. I step back to the hallway, looking at the front door. That just leads me one place. I step in front of the hallway, confronting the stairwell. |
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