Run

By Addison Conyers

It’s close to midnight, and something evil’s lurking in the dark. There has been, for a year. I look around me, I see darkness, but when I look through the darkness I see much, much more. I see them, sleeping, in the bushes. We tremble through the forest, trying not to wake them. Something moves beside me. A shock of adrenaline flew through me as I jumped, but it was just Naomi. She’s one of the four people I’m with. One of the four people I met a couple weeks ago. One of the four people I don’t trust. But also, one of the four people who will help keep me alive.

We keep walking. I keep looking around. Naomi, Erica, Arthur, Charlotte, and so many Culex. I remember first hearing the word culex. It was a couple hours after the outbreak. I was in the lab, with the other scientists. Working hard, trying to determine what had happened. People around me kept repeating it. Culex. Culex. Culex. The name of these creatures around me. Half mosquito, half human.

It started with mosquitoes. A mosquito took someone’s blood, spreading it to the next person. You could only imagine how fast that would escalate. It turned humans into… something else. Culex. Their eyes big, like a fly’s. The extra arm they grew carried scathing fingers, which the disease is isolated in. Trapped. They run. They chase.

I scrutinize around me. A light?

“Look,” I whispered, gazing at the light.

“A light? Where’s it coming from?” Questioned Charlotte, forgetting to whisper.

We all freeze, knowing what she had done. I look around. Naomi, Erica, Arthur, Charlotte. No Culex. They had woken up. A bush on my left rustles. I shoot my head around. Nothing. another rustle. But this time, there was a three-armed bug-eyed beast standing right before my eyes.

It clutched on to my shoulder, almost heaving me across the ground. Arthur kicked the culex in the shoulder, causing it to stumble backwards. They helped me up, and we ran towards the flickering light.

The Culex transmit a disease through the fingers on their third arm. Their long, pointed fingers only have to pierce your skin to become infected.

I knew about the Culex before anyone else. The other scientists in the lab started working with me, helping me to invent a vaccine, but the outbreak happed too soon. We weren’t expecting it for at least another week or so. The first one broke in, then the second, then they all bombarded themselves through the glass doors, whilst large planks of wood trying to hold it shut.

The light got nearer and nearer as we got further away from the stampede of Culex. A house. The squeaky door sway open, as we took our first steps through the door. The floorboards, just as loud as the door, as if they were trying to tell us something. ‘Run!’ they said, ‘Run!’ and again. Maybe we should listen to them, maybe we shouldn’t.

We slowly insinuate up the stairs. ‘Run! Run!’ We didn’t. We kept going, kept climbing the stairs. The stairs finally came to an end, screaming at us one more time.

Three doors. The light shining through the third door, alerting us there was something behind it. We creep closer and closer to the door. My sweat-dripping hand reached for the doorhandle as the others followed closely behind. I twist the muscles in my wrist, and quickly swing the door open. No one goes in. We all stand there, gazing at the scene before our eyes. A person. A person covered in blood. A person weeping on the floor. Holding the light in his four-fingered hand. We hesitantly creep closer to the person.

“I’m not one of them!” He screams, through gasps of air.

“I’m not one of them, I swear! My brother, my brother h- he’s gone, they got him.” He said, almost out of breath. My inquisitive got the better of me. All six of us creeped into the room and sealed the door behind us.

5 HOURS LATER – 5am

They screech their long, sharp, nails on the door, waking me up. I look around Naomi, Erica, Arthur, Charlotte, and the new guy, Peter. The thudding on the door got louder and louder as I became more aware of my surroundings. Their nails engraved into the door again, like nails on a chalkboard.

I jump up. My eyes saunter around the room. The door. It’s slowly caving in. I quickly slam myself against it, waking the others up. Erica bounces of the ground, like a spring, pushing herself against the door to help me. Instantaneously, Peter swings his arm through the window. The blood drips from his knuckles, revealing the tiny cuts beneath it. They started to climb out the window. A wave of jealousy hit. I don’t want to be stranded here. Erica must have discerned the expression on my face and known.

“You go!” She screams, selflessly.

I bound myself off the door and run to the window. I swing my legs over the broken glass, just in time to see one of the culex stab Erica through the worn-down door. She was one of them now.

I should have listened to the stairs.

Run. Run. Run.

28 HOURS LATER – 9am

What was that? I got closer to the sign. Its bright yellow letters reading the word ‘Bakery’. I look around. A Supermarket. A Gift Shop. A Fish and Chips shop. A Bookstore. It was a little town. We had been walking for an hour now, our legs feeling like they’re about to snap off.

We infiltrate the bakery. Hoping to find something.

I walk towards the back of the bakery. A tub of cinnamon.

I rummaged through my brain for a serviceable source of information.

‘Just like mosquitoes, they hate cinnamon. They stay away from it,’ her co-worker had hypothesized, just after the outbreak.

I rushed towards the others.

“They stay away from cinnamon!” I shouted. There was a long moment of quietude.

“So, they don’t bother you, if you smell like cinnamon?” Arthur askes. I nod, even though I wasn’t completely sure.

“Well then, I guess we should cover ourselves in cinnamon,” He suggests.

We scamper across to the supermarket after discussing our plan over and over again. We shoved every piece of food we could see into our bags. Which wasn’t much, but it was enough.

10 HOURS LATER – 7pm

“Does anyone know how to get there?” I asked, hoping for a response.

“I do, I used to live around here. I loved it when my grandparents took me to the museum, the WW2 bunker was my favourite part.” Peter ensured.

Sometimes I wonder what we would have done if we didn’t come across Peter that night. The night his brother become one of those three-armed bug-eyed beasts.

“How far is it?” I asked.

“Maybe an hour? But we could take the shortcut.” He suggested.

35 MINUTES LATER – 7:35pm

I didn’t know the shortcut would be through a graveyard.

By now, we’d already smeared ourselves with cinnamon.

It was too unilluminated to see anything, the only light is from the moon. We are surrounded by them. I know it. we waited until dark for a reason. They needed to be sleeping if we wanted to get to the WW2 bunker alive.

I look behind me, just in time to see Peter pull Charlotte away from the grave she was about to walk into. We all freeze as Peter begins to talk.

“Charlotte why aren’t you covered in cinnamon?” He asks.

“Did you really think I was going to do that?” She replies.

Suddenly, a culex awakens, dragging Charlotte into the darkness. Her best friend, Naomi, screams, running after her. Trying to save her. Great. Now they’re both dead.

Run.

20 MINUTES LATER – 8pm

Now were down to three. Charlotte has never been exceedingly intelligent.

We’d managed to find a river, to lose track of the Culex. All except one. Still lingering on the water’s edge. Staring us down.

That’s when Arthur pulled out the gun no one knew he had.

“Why didn’t you tell us you had a gun?” I asked.

“There’re only six bullets, I didn’t want to waste them,” He explained, with a glance of humour in this living nightmare. He lifted the gun, aimed at the creature, and pulled the trigger.

8 HOURS LATER – 4am

I’d known that we had to wake up early, but I wasn’t even asleep in the first place. I could barely even shut my eyes. I was afraid, but I knew I couldn’t give up.

Once again, we start walking.

“Ow!” wails Peter. I shift my eyes to the ground, and there was his foot, pierced by the dead Culex’s pointed finger. We’re all wondering the same thing, but Peter is the one to say it.

“Is it still infected?” he asks. They all look at me, but this time, I didn’t have an answer to give them.

“I don’t know…” I reply, clearly disappointing them. we stand there, not knowing what to do. We can’t trust him now. I snatch the gun out of Arthur’s hand, pointing it at Peter. If he turns, I shoot. If he stays normal, I won’t. My eyes staring at his, making sure I make the right decision. Abruptly, his eyes expand, his third arm shoots out from his side. I shoot.

5 minutes later – 4:05am

We didn’t spend much time at the river. We had to go. Even though the 2 culex in front of me were dead, others weren’t. And they were coming. Arthur and I hadn’t said a word since I shot the mutated version of Peter.

Luckily, I knew where we were. We were about 200 meters from the exhibition at the museum. We could barely carry all 5 bags stuffed with food. We walk further.

Click

Arthur stops. I stop. We look at each other, the tinniest part of me knows what it was.

“Was that…” I ask.

“Yep, a landmine.” He replies.

We were so close.

Fear shoots through me not knowing it was under my foot or his.

“Who stood on it?” I ask, almost hoping it was him. I was right.

“Go. Get to the WW2 bunker, get inside, and stay there. There’s no point in me trying to get away.” He says.

I didn’t want to leave him there to die, but what choice did I have? He passes over the other 3 bags, and I start running, more like hobbling, actually. Struggling to carry all 5 bags, I manage to make my way to the bunker. I pry open the door, shove all the bags inside. I look behind me. He’s still there. This was the last time I would ever see him.

I jump down, into the bunker, after taking one last look at Arthur before he is blown to smithereens. I close the door, pulling it tight to make sure nothing could get inside.

Boom

Arthur was dead. And here I was, all alone again.