Look Back (Chapter One Complete, 7/15)
Posted: Tue Sep 17, 2013 3:26 am
Alrighty then, hello there, folks. Awhile ago I decided to hop onto the zombie fic bandwagon (original, right?) and this was somewhat the result. Originally it wasn't written for KS, but after several rewrites and restructuring I decided to give it a try.
Basically, instead of churning out chapter seven of Waiting, I decided to try my hand at this again. /procrastination.
Well, enjoy. Or not. I'm not your mom. If was I would tell you to clean that room. Seriously, turn around...I'll wait...disgusting, right? Pick up all the crap and then read this. Actually, read this first. Then clean. Or not.
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Chapter One, Part One: Solid Ground
Inhale.
Exhale.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Recoil.
A sharp expulsion of breath accompanied a bang, a flash, and a thud as the lifeless body hit the concrete. Several screams echoed off the walls of the nearest buildings, the kin of the fallen voicing their dissent. Their taunting cries died out after a moment, the stale city air returning to the silence of the night.
Smoke trailed off the barrel of the rifle, wistfully joining the smoke and smog above. The iron banding around the gun had seen better days, and the wood finish was beginning to show serious age. But the gun performed. If it could push a projectile to lethal speed, well, that was all Hisao cared about.
Content that the herd was no longer concerned with his shot, Hisao raised the gun away from the iron railing and slung it back over his shoulder. Despite the oddity of this place, he still waited a moment longer, listening. He heard no frantic shuffling or angry snarls. Just the wind. He almost regretted that.
Sighing, Hisao snapped open the release on the holster holding his pistol and made for the stairs. He doubted that he would really need to use it, but it was faster than drawing the rifle off his back. Fingering the cold black metal of the pistol, he silently descended from his perch.
At ground level the subtle wind that dominated the rooftops was all but dead. His brown hair, tousled by his extended stay above, rested against the side of his head threatening to obscure his vision with its new length. The few strands that occupied his vision danced side to side with his motions. Another sigh escaped his lips. It was time for another amateur haircut.
Hisao unconsciously moved his hand away from his pistol and let it rest on his knife. He hated cutting his own hair. Even scissors would make the task a small bit less depressing. But he knew the value of vision. Letting his hair grow out would make his life more dangerous. Not to mention give him a front row seat to the graying locks that were slowly overtaking his head.
Realizing his hand was fingering the knife, Hisao jerked it away and pulled the gun from its holster. This town was making his careless.
Thrusting the thought out of his head, he slowly rounded the base of the building. He knew that is was probably pointless; he hadn't had an issue all day, but carelessness had ended too many lives for him to underestimate its importance. So he moved slowly, pistol resting in both hands, ready to fire at a moments notice.
The corner ended at the start of a street, stretching far both ways, an endless sea of flat roofs and brick fronts. In any other town Hisao would fear for potential gunmen on those roofs, but the odds were slim here. For more reasons than Hisao preferred to think about.
Still, it never hurt to be careful. Hisao poked his head around the corner, scanning the rooftops and the street. He needed to make it to that body. Four blocks doesn't seem that far from a high rooftop, but on the ground it could take hours to move that far safely. At least, in any other place.
Satisfied that a sniper wasn't going to take a pot shot at him, Hisao ducked to a crouch and quickly darted across the street. His footfalls sounded unearthly loud in the stale night; reverberating off the steel fencing lining the opposite end of the street. Breaking into a quick sprint, Hisao leaped over the fence and rolled onto the dead grass.
The pistol was the first thing to come up, followed by his eyes. Still in a crouch, Hisao scanned the area. A small park occupied this portion of the town, brown spiky grass and thick vines grew over what was once playthings. A steel wrought jungle gym was completely smothered in growth, lending its appearance to a sickly green igloo. A small concrete path ran through to the other side. Where the earth hadn't come up to swallow the path Hisao noticed faded red stains. If such things had once bothered him, he couldn't quite remember when.
Slowly, Hisao raised his body up, pistol still ready to fire. The park left too many blind spots for his liking. Anything could be hiding in the shadows. But this was the path of least resistance, and it had been far too long since that had even been a possibility. He knew it could still be dangerous, but the odds were on his side. For once.
Luckily, the earthen growth on the path absorbed most of his footfalls, allowing slightly faster travel. Taking quick and deliberate steps, Hisao drifted through the park. The solid wall of buildings continued only a few more paces away. Hisao allowed himself a quick smug smile. It would have normally taken an hour to cross such a place, ignoring the fact that he would have avoided it to begin with, and he was practically at the other side in less than five minutes. Small things in life, right?
A rustling came to his left, followed by a quick shallow breath.
Stupid, Hisao! You're so stupid!
Before the unknown breath had finished its exhale, Hisao was ducked into a crouch, pistol raised at the noise.
“Hold!”
His own voice sounded foreign to him. How long had it been since he last spoke?
The rustling continued, but it wasn't frantic or hurried. The breathing remained steady. So it wasn't a person. Not anymore at any rate.
Hisao lowered his pistol and stood up. He could almost make out the huddled shape moving in the shadows. It knew he was there...it had too. He had spoken to the damn thing, not to mention being close enough to smell. But it wasn't making a move toward him. It wasn't doing anything.
The first time that happened Hisao nearly had a heart attack. Probably more from relief than shock. But the novelty soon wore off. Now it just left him feeling uneasy. Five years of experience and conditioning had taught him that this was all wrong. He almost missed the wild cries and frantic running. Almost.
Whatever the wretched thing was doing, it wasn't bothering Hisao. Better to not look a gift horse in the mouth and all that. But it still unnerved him. It would be a shame if that gift horse turned out sickly or lame.
The sounds of the creature faded as Hisao carefully rounded the corner. Another endless street lay before him, indistinguishable from the last. After scanning the rooftops for gunmen Hisao repeated the process from before, this time ducking into an alleyway on the opposite end. It was narrow, hardly wide enough for Hisao to pass, but it was the most direct.
The alleyway narrowed a bit more at its end forcing Hisao to shimmy along the wall. The back of his rifle grated along the wall, screeching as the metal etched into the stone. It almost drowned out the sound from above. Almost.
Hisao stopped immediately and squeezed both arms straight up, pistol aimed to the sky. Above him several wooden boards spanned the short gap between the buildings, several pots that once held flowers scattered along the sides. Most likely an easy way to visit the neighbors in a different time. A different world.
But now the boards shook as the weight of someone, something, ambled across its length. The shuffling gate and slumped posture was all Hisao needed to identify the creature. It stepped across the boards and onto the next building, but Hisao didn't hear its footsteps fade. Instead the creature turned about and crossed again, the wood groaning with tension.
Hisao narrowed his eyes and kept his gun raised. The creature made it across and stood for a moment before turning and crossing again. Hisao watched for minutes as the creature repeated itself again and again. This...this was new.
Content to let the thing walk in circles until eternity, Hisao brought his gun down and made to move. Before he got an inch a pebble struck the top of his head. His eyes shot skyward and his arms raised above him. He had to protect his skull from the falling pot that threatened to crack it open. But that was all reflexes. His mind was already lost in memory.
Basically, instead of churning out chapter seven of Waiting, I decided to try my hand at this again. /procrastination.
Well, enjoy. Or not. I'm not your mom. If was I would tell you to clean that room. Seriously, turn around...I'll wait...disgusting, right? Pick up all the crap and then read this. Actually, read this first. Then clean. Or not.
_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Chapter One, Part One: Solid Ground
Inhale.
Exhale.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Recoil.
A sharp expulsion of breath accompanied a bang, a flash, and a thud as the lifeless body hit the concrete. Several screams echoed off the walls of the nearest buildings, the kin of the fallen voicing their dissent. Their taunting cries died out after a moment, the stale city air returning to the silence of the night.
Smoke trailed off the barrel of the rifle, wistfully joining the smoke and smog above. The iron banding around the gun had seen better days, and the wood finish was beginning to show serious age. But the gun performed. If it could push a projectile to lethal speed, well, that was all Hisao cared about.
Content that the herd was no longer concerned with his shot, Hisao raised the gun away from the iron railing and slung it back over his shoulder. Despite the oddity of this place, he still waited a moment longer, listening. He heard no frantic shuffling or angry snarls. Just the wind. He almost regretted that.
Sighing, Hisao snapped open the release on the holster holding his pistol and made for the stairs. He doubted that he would really need to use it, but it was faster than drawing the rifle off his back. Fingering the cold black metal of the pistol, he silently descended from his perch.
At ground level the subtle wind that dominated the rooftops was all but dead. His brown hair, tousled by his extended stay above, rested against the side of his head threatening to obscure his vision with its new length. The few strands that occupied his vision danced side to side with his motions. Another sigh escaped his lips. It was time for another amateur haircut.
Hisao unconsciously moved his hand away from his pistol and let it rest on his knife. He hated cutting his own hair. Even scissors would make the task a small bit less depressing. But he knew the value of vision. Letting his hair grow out would make his life more dangerous. Not to mention give him a front row seat to the graying locks that were slowly overtaking his head.
Realizing his hand was fingering the knife, Hisao jerked it away and pulled the gun from its holster. This town was making his careless.
Thrusting the thought out of his head, he slowly rounded the base of the building. He knew that is was probably pointless; he hadn't had an issue all day, but carelessness had ended too many lives for him to underestimate its importance. So he moved slowly, pistol resting in both hands, ready to fire at a moments notice.
The corner ended at the start of a street, stretching far both ways, an endless sea of flat roofs and brick fronts. In any other town Hisao would fear for potential gunmen on those roofs, but the odds were slim here. For more reasons than Hisao preferred to think about.
Still, it never hurt to be careful. Hisao poked his head around the corner, scanning the rooftops and the street. He needed to make it to that body. Four blocks doesn't seem that far from a high rooftop, but on the ground it could take hours to move that far safely. At least, in any other place.
Satisfied that a sniper wasn't going to take a pot shot at him, Hisao ducked to a crouch and quickly darted across the street. His footfalls sounded unearthly loud in the stale night; reverberating off the steel fencing lining the opposite end of the street. Breaking into a quick sprint, Hisao leaped over the fence and rolled onto the dead grass.
The pistol was the first thing to come up, followed by his eyes. Still in a crouch, Hisao scanned the area. A small park occupied this portion of the town, brown spiky grass and thick vines grew over what was once playthings. A steel wrought jungle gym was completely smothered in growth, lending its appearance to a sickly green igloo. A small concrete path ran through to the other side. Where the earth hadn't come up to swallow the path Hisao noticed faded red stains. If such things had once bothered him, he couldn't quite remember when.
Slowly, Hisao raised his body up, pistol still ready to fire. The park left too many blind spots for his liking. Anything could be hiding in the shadows. But this was the path of least resistance, and it had been far too long since that had even been a possibility. He knew it could still be dangerous, but the odds were on his side. For once.
Luckily, the earthen growth on the path absorbed most of his footfalls, allowing slightly faster travel. Taking quick and deliberate steps, Hisao drifted through the park. The solid wall of buildings continued only a few more paces away. Hisao allowed himself a quick smug smile. It would have normally taken an hour to cross such a place, ignoring the fact that he would have avoided it to begin with, and he was practically at the other side in less than five minutes. Small things in life, right?
A rustling came to his left, followed by a quick shallow breath.
Stupid, Hisao! You're so stupid!
Before the unknown breath had finished its exhale, Hisao was ducked into a crouch, pistol raised at the noise.
“Hold!”
His own voice sounded foreign to him. How long had it been since he last spoke?
The rustling continued, but it wasn't frantic or hurried. The breathing remained steady. So it wasn't a person. Not anymore at any rate.
Hisao lowered his pistol and stood up. He could almost make out the huddled shape moving in the shadows. It knew he was there...it had too. He had spoken to the damn thing, not to mention being close enough to smell. But it wasn't making a move toward him. It wasn't doing anything.
The first time that happened Hisao nearly had a heart attack. Probably more from relief than shock. But the novelty soon wore off. Now it just left him feeling uneasy. Five years of experience and conditioning had taught him that this was all wrong. He almost missed the wild cries and frantic running. Almost.
Whatever the wretched thing was doing, it wasn't bothering Hisao. Better to not look a gift horse in the mouth and all that. But it still unnerved him. It would be a shame if that gift horse turned out sickly or lame.
The sounds of the creature faded as Hisao carefully rounded the corner. Another endless street lay before him, indistinguishable from the last. After scanning the rooftops for gunmen Hisao repeated the process from before, this time ducking into an alleyway on the opposite end. It was narrow, hardly wide enough for Hisao to pass, but it was the most direct.
The alleyway narrowed a bit more at its end forcing Hisao to shimmy along the wall. The back of his rifle grated along the wall, screeching as the metal etched into the stone. It almost drowned out the sound from above. Almost.
Hisao stopped immediately and squeezed both arms straight up, pistol aimed to the sky. Above him several wooden boards spanned the short gap between the buildings, several pots that once held flowers scattered along the sides. Most likely an easy way to visit the neighbors in a different time. A different world.
But now the boards shook as the weight of someone, something, ambled across its length. The shuffling gate and slumped posture was all Hisao needed to identify the creature. It stepped across the boards and onto the next building, but Hisao didn't hear its footsteps fade. Instead the creature turned about and crossed again, the wood groaning with tension.
Hisao narrowed his eyes and kept his gun raised. The creature made it across and stood for a moment before turning and crossing again. Hisao watched for minutes as the creature repeated itself again and again. This...this was new.
Content to let the thing walk in circles until eternity, Hisao brought his gun down and made to move. Before he got an inch a pebble struck the top of his head. His eyes shot skyward and his arms raised above him. He had to protect his skull from the falling pot that threatened to crack it open. But that was all reflexes. His mind was already lost in memory.
