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Walking through Death

Chapter Text

- 17 days after the end -

The soft rays of the midsummer sun, now almost set, dimly illuminated the streets of London, giving the landscape an almost romantic appearance, making the English capital look like an oasis of peace and tranquility.
Too bad that neither of these two things could be found anymore, apparently, not only there, but in the whole world. Of course, they couldn't hear the trumpeting of cars, no more traffic or the din of the crowd that had always animated London, but compared to what was happening...
The bluish-black-haired boy leaned slightly from behind the corner of the house where he had taken refuge for the previous two days, his face and clothes smudged with dust and mud, the light shirt he wore was torn in several places.
He carefully checked that the alley before him was easily practicable and that there were no signs of other presences within a few meters. In his right hand he held a long piece of mirror wrapped at the base in a cloth so as not to cut, it was pretty pathetic as a weapon, he realized, but in that moment it was the only one he had. He cast a quick glance behind him, making sure he had a free escape in case he needed it, and then he advanced carefully into the alley, causing a couple of rattling mice to escape at his own passage. He walked slowly along the dirty, sunken road between the two dwellings, checking that the road he was facing was clear, his ears straining in an attempt to catch as many sounds as possible. He jumped just as the car's burglar alarm at the end of the main road started ringing suddenly, echoing through the buildings.

"Tsk ... one of those crap must have ended up against it..." the boy thought with a slight grimace "better ... if there are others around, they will be attracted by the noise and with a little luck they will ignore me". He walked down the street being careful to continually hide behind the overturned carcasses of the abandoned cars, to the rubbish bins and to anything that could be his shelter. He just hoped that this fortuitous sound diversion kept the zombies busy long enough for him to take cover. There were ten or more days that he moved around the city taking refuge from house to house trying to move more and more towards the countryside, in order to get away from the center of London. After all, given the number of inhabitants that populated the British capital, the number of zombies present now was definitely high. The best choice was to move to the countryside, where fewer people lived and perhaps, with a little luck, the level of infestation was lower.
He had almost managed to reach the edge of the city when suddenly a trio of zombies emerged from behind one of the houses, two men and a woman. The woman was the worst one; her side was completely torn, from which blood and guts were partly coming out. The boy stepped back a couple of steps, tightening his improvised weapon more tightly between his fingers, moving his gaze quickly, looking for an escape route. He knew he had neither the right weapon nor the physical abilities for a body-to-body confrontation with those beings, he would have been torn to pieces while still alive.

As those monsters ascended directly from Hell advanced towards him the boy noticed that, unlike the city street behind him, the path behind the zombies was clear. He retreated again and then took a sideways step, managing to overtake the walking corpses by pure luck, continuing to run along the path that led to the country hoping to be able to sow them somehow. Unfortunately for him it was not so. Partly the tiredness of the days spent running away and hiding was making itself felt all together and in part he had never been a great runner. He could hear the cries and groans of the three zombies who seemed intent on following him to the end of the world as sweat ran down his face and back.

He could hear his ears whistling and his heart in his throat, his mind clouded with fear and anger. He didn't want to die. Not like this, torn apart by beings now without the slightest spark of reason that could do nothing but grope around, drool and eat whatever moved. He refused to make such an end, if he had to die he wanted to do it his way. He just glanced back over his shoulder, noticing with a sense of growing anguish that the zombies were getting closer and stretching their semi-rotten arms towards him. He could not have made a bigger mistake than the gesture of turning as he ran; he didn't even notice the thick branch that had collapsed on the road, ending up stumbling over it, ending up ruinously on the ground, scratching both arms extensively in an attempt to cushion the fall. He groaned in pain as he pulled himself up to his knees as he could, while trying not to cut himself with his own arranged weapon, turning immediately and noticing with horror that those disgusting beings were now less than three meters away from him. Despite feeling every fiber of his body tremble like earth during an earthquake, he raised his fist with which he clutched the long piece of sharp glass, ready to defend himself as he could, not at all intent on surrendering to death that way. One of the zombies snapped before the others doing to reach him when suddenly, preceded by the roar of the engine and by the light of the headlight, a motorcycle came out on the road investing the zombie without much compliments, ruinously sending him to the ground and passing on his head with the wheel. The skull of the ex-man crushed himself like nothing, pouring blood and bits of brain onto the road. The raven-haired young man narrowed his eyes, trying to see beyond the light of the bike, noticing that on the latter sat a boy with hair of a very light blond who must have been about his age.

-Fuck you doing still there on the ground?! Raise your ass and jump on!,- said the blond before getting off the Harley Davidson and holding a metal baseball bat. He walked briskly against the zombies with a snarl, knocking down the other "man" and unceremoniously smashing the woman's skull with a well-calibrated blow of the bat, - move before I change my mind and decide to leave you here! - he shouted before dropping the sole of his right boot mercilessly and repeatedly on the zombie's face on the ground, killing him, splattering his shoes, clothes and minimally his the face with the corpse's blood. The raven sat up trying not to weigh too much on the ankle that he had slammed against the branch and that must have at least dislocated seen the evil he felt, a dull and throbbing pain that expanded along the calf. He approached quickly while the boy put the bat back in the case affixed to the bike, climbing into the saddle and turning towards him. The young man was able to notice only that the other one had the eyes of an ice-blue color before going up behind him and squeezing his arms around his waist while the blond was leaving quickly in the same direction he had come from.