The shelter looked to be a medium-sized lobby with a second-floor balcony. Alex estimated that fifty people could crowd inside comfortably. However, there were no people—not even the undead. Odd, but Alex wasn’t all that surprised. It’d been hours since he’d gotten here, and he’d only found two. He was curious about where everyone went or if they all died. They could be hiding, Alex hoped. Wishful thinking, but he’d never find them if that were the case. It was also likely that this shelter was deemed unsafe, and whoever was here had fled hours ago.


    Those things outside would’ve made it hard for anyone to even get here, on top of trying to defend this place. Alex then wondered how many people refused the trek and stayed put. From where he started, it was challenging enough. Since then, the only gunshots, not coming from his friends, were purely distant. The only other option was that everyone died.


    Are we the only ones left? Alex thought as he glanced around the lifeless room. He didn’t bother counting that helicopter pilot as he could easily escape if he wanted to.


    But despite the lack of people, there was enough evidence to know that there had been someone here prior. There were sleeping bags and small cots against the walls, separated by little tables with personal belongings or medical supplies. Many belongings, such as clothes and backpacks, were also abandoned next to the cots. Someone also had barricaded a broad set of double doors on the left with thick dark wood. The windows were boarded up as well with matching planks. At the end of the room was an employee’s-only door and the bathrooms were near the far right.


    The power’s on, too. That’s good. Alex silently nodded to himself.


    “Shit, no one’s here,” Keaton voiced. His hands were clenched, barring thick knuckles. But he kept his expression solid.


    “Maybe they all evacuated,” Lyra whispered. She looked somberly toward the right side of the shelter.


    “But where?”


    Lyra shrugged.


    “Maybe deeper in?” expressed Alex.


    “You wanna check?” Keaton raised a brow, and his hardened eyes stared Alex down.


    Honestly, Alex wasn’t sure if venturing further than the lobby was a good idea. There’s a reason why someone barricaded those doors, and Alex didn’t want to find out. He shook his head, and a slight pain surged up his neck. He lowered his tensed shoulders, quickly grabbed his neck, and rubbed it slightly. When did I do that?


    “Well, we could wait here and see if anyone else comes,” suggested Lyra. She cupped her elbows, nervously looking around.


    “Nah,” Keaton started. “We should—!”


    Thump… Thump… Thump…


    A vague noise came from beyond the door at the end of the lobby. Alex heard it. Survivors? Maybe? No, likely another zombie just trying to scare them. But even so, he didn’t move, unsure what to do next.


    “What was that?” he asked, a bit shaken. The hairs on his arms had formed goosebumps.


    “Maybe it’s some guy who wants to give us a million dollars,” Keaton chortled.


    Alex glared. “I don’t think so.”


    “Hey, Lyra, go check out what it was, yeah?” Keaton thinned his lips to form a crooked smile.


    “Me!?” she scoffed. Her face, a pretty porcelain, formed little grooves across her forehead as she scowled. “You do it!”


    “Nah, I gotta stay here and guard the door… Ya know, macho stuff.”


    Lyra groaned longingly at that childish response. Alex couldn’t help but chuckle at the two. Finally, she uncrossed her arms and strutted over to the door. Alex and Keaton followed closely behind.


    “You guys are bothbabies,” she muttered through clenched teeth. Lyra then pressed up against the door and pushed it open with her Hi-Power in hand. Finally, she flicked her gun into the room. An orange-tinted light peered out from the open door. Alex squinted, wondering what that light could be. What the…?


    The door creaked obnoxiously open, and Lyra completely slipped through. It didn’t take a moment’s notice before her hand appeared in the doorway. She curled her fingers repeatedly before pulling away.


    Alex lowered his gun and meandered inside. A glance around the room confirmed his confusion. The orange light came from a small candle resting atop a thin desk. It looked freshly lit, too, as the wax barely leaked. Someone was here. Are they still around?


    The whole room was relatively puny. It was a rectangular room with desks adjacent to one another. The room had two doors, and the blood trail led right to one of them. Maybe they went there? Alex wondered. The second door was at the far end. It had a broken window, glass all on the floor, and a thick, sturdy-looking wooden barricade that boarded it up.


    Alex crept up toward the blocked door and peered inside. The lights were on inside, giving him a full view of the smaller room. That’s when he saw it. Cots that held corpses in filled sleeping bags. Blood was splattered against the floor as two of the sleeping bags had been viciously torn open with the contents out of full display. There were half-eaten pounds of flesh and guts that were hanging loosely over the cots. Alex stepped behind Keaton, trying to look away, but his eyes refused. The chunks of flesh lay in small pools of blood. In the far corner were discarded mangled bodies. The ones that were still whole had been brutalized by broken glass, knives, and even ice picks.


    Gross, Alex thought, his stomach tied in knots. So fucking gross. Tiny hairs stood straight up as goosebumps formed on Alex’s skin. He wanted to curl up and cry; he wanted this nightmare to end. He then shut his eyes and counted internally to ten. God, I’m so tired.


    When Alex finally opened his eyes, he was still in the shelter, next to Keaton, holding a gun, still trying to stay alive. Several echoing gunshots came from outside, though they sounded too far away.


    Then, as Lyra made her approach, a zombie jumped out from behind the blocked door, squealing and spitting blood onto the broken window frame. She jumped back, catching her breath. The zombie held a smile that repulsed into a rictus as it lightly tapped on the wooden board.


    “Bastard!” Lyra seethed. Her feminine voice sounded strained like she was silently screaming it at the zombie.


    Alex lowered his eyes to her gun. It was firmly grasped and quickly rising, and he knew what would happen next. He placed both hands against his ears to lower the sound as, in a swift blinking motion, Lyra flicked her gun at the now moaning zombie and fired it. One ear-piercing shot caused him to flinch as the vibrations slapped his body.


    It slumped back from behind the door with a heavy thump then silence returned to the room. Alex lowered his hands and then sat down on the closest chair. Finally, he took a deep, relaxing breath and holstered his Glock 48.


    “Sorry about that,” she whispered, not facing them. After a few seconds, she then holstered her weapon.


    “No worries,” Alex assured. A light tapping noise prompted him to shift his head back. Keaton had been fidgeting with a vending machine in the left corner of the room. From what Alex could see, soda and other various snacking options were still untouched. He watched Keaton kick it, and in response, the vending machine dropped a few water bottles.


    Keaton then grabbed the bottles and grinned as he walked toward Alex. He then sat on the desk next to Alex, sighing through his reddened nose.


    “Here, take this.” Keaton then handed Alex a bottle then tossed another over to Lyra.


    “Oh, cool, I didn’t even see this! Nice find, Keaton.” Lyra holstered her weapon before twisting the cap off and gulping down the water. She left only an empty bottle.


    “No problem.” Keaton then spread his legs wide for comfort, rolling his neck before gulping down his bottle. Once finished, he crunched the plastic, twisting it to get every last drop. And after that, Keaton tossed the bottle and leaned over before breathing heavily. “Fucking hell, I didn’t realize how dehydrated I really was. All this running around and shooting shit is making me hungry as well.”


    Alex glanced down at his bottle. As refreshing as it looked, he decided not to open it. He wasn’t all that thirsty and likely needed it for later. So, instead, he put it away into his back pouch.Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.


    Everyone seemed okay. Lyra backed up against the wall and cupped her elbows. Her thin, petite body heaved as she closed her eyes. At the same time, Keaton sat on a rugged plastic chair and casually drank from his water. It was almost nice that they all could enjoy this small amount of peace. Going to the shelter was at least a good call to take a break. At least they were safe, and at the moment, that was all that mattered to Alex.


    He then moved toward one of the desks. Upon its smooth, dark wooden surface was a small written letter. Someone’s last words? Alex wondered. His thin fingers snatched it up quickly, and he began to read.


    October 31st, afternoon,


    We shouldn’t’ve left Terry; he was the best man to take us through the streets. And now we’ll be stuck in this stupid store with little to no food left. The gunshots are still goin’, though! That’s good! ‘least—people are still fightin’. But if we don’t move soon, I fear we’ll be stuck here. I ain’t gonna go creepin’ through the night with all them carriers. The stalkers are also hard to kill too. They take half a damn mag, an’ they still can git up. Fuck this shit… Fuck ev’rythin’.


    Alex set down the note as he pondered. Stalkers, huh? That’s a good name—I wonder where that guy is now. He gently set down the note, sighing briefly. There’d be no way to find out—and to be frank—he didn’t want to either. All he could do was keep going; maybe Keaton was right in taking supplies from fallen survivors. If it kept them alive, then Alex had no choice. Otherwise, we’ll be stuck like that guy. There won’t be any help either… Will there?


    “Well,” Lyra suddenly spoke. “We made it… now what?”


    Alex already knew what he wanted to do. Waiting for help was pointless—he just wanted to go home. “I really don’t wanna stay in this town any longer than necessary.”


    A gruff sigh came from Keaton. He then stretched out his large muscular arms over his head. “But this is the only safe place we’ve come across unless you’ve got a better idea,” Keaton finally asked. His light brown eyes were full of uncertainty, and the sullen look didn’t help lighten the air either.


    “Let’s be honest, this place is a dud. I was for it originally, but I didn’t think it’d be so…”


    “…Dead?” Lyra tried to force a smile but ultimately stopped halfway. But she was right; that’s what he was thinking.


    “Well, if you’ve got ideas…” Keaton stressed, repeating himself.


    Alex opened his mouth when suddenly, he remembered something. “Oh!” He’d nearly forgotten the map! Alex quickly pulled it out from his back pouch, unfolding it and handing it over to Keaton. “I couldn’t find our location. Maybe you can? A better idea of our area doesn’t hurt. We might be able to find a way out of the city.”


    “Alex, where did you find this?” Keaton scrunched his face, looking intensively at it. He then traced his rough-looking fingers against the paper along the lines of some streets.


    “Outside, in a cop car.”


    Keaton gave a curt nod, not taking his eyes off the map. Eventually, he tapped a large block in the upper left—the northwest part of the town. “We’re here, in this factory.”


    “This place is a factory?” he asked bluntly.


    “It’s a combination,” Lyra chimed in. She stepped forward, looking at the map herself. “The front entrance is the store that sells food. That’s on the far-left end of the street. The factory portion is where we’re at. It was originally all just a factory warehouse until a union, I think, took over a few years ago.”


    “You sure know your history,” said Keaton. He then showed Alex what she meant by circling the building on the map. It was large, bigger than the other little gray squares. But where he had closed in on the circle was a conjoined section right next to what looked to be a bridge by the river.


    “So, what should we do?” Alex glanced at the two for an answer.


    “I dunno.” Keaton groaned, rolling his neck. “I wanna stay a bit longer, maybe explore the grocery department of this place first. I’m kinda hungry. And going back outside and facing those rat mutants isn’t something I wanna do at this moment.”


    “That sounds fine, for now.” Lyra blew air through her mouth, vibrating her lips. “I’ll think of a way out; just give me some time.” She then pushed off against the walk and sauntered to them. A quick unholster of her gun told them she was ready to go.


    Keaton left the paper on the table, hopped off his seat, and moved toward the exit door. Just as he reached for the knob, a leaden boom echoed into the safe room, shaking the candle’s wisp of a flame. Then another boom emitted, hitting Alex’s ears. This time, he stood up and glanced at the room’s entrance.


    “What was that?” questioned Lyra. She turned her body slightly, slowly pulling her handgun.


    It can’t be good, thought Alex. His hand wavered over to his holstered gun, wondering if he should pull it. Keaton finally pulled the door ajar and squeezed through. Alex quickly hopped off his chair and followed behind. Once outside, he then moved toward the middle.


    Those things were those stalkers shrieking in unison, slashing against the wooden barricades. They held, but it didn’t look like it would for long as chippings started flinging onto the floor. An elongated snapping sound began to erupt as the wood bowed.


    Alex remained silent, though his mouth was left hanging open. How did those things know they were in the shelter? Alex shook his head, unable to form any valuable thoughts. His heartbeat pounded in his chest as the varied shrieks came once more. They definitely were calling out to one another. But it didn’t matter as they needed to leave this place. He could count at least four, but Alex knew there’d be more. As he tried to pull himself away, his legs suddenly tightened; his body refused to respond.


    “What the!? No way!” Lyra groaned at the sight.


    “They sussed us out? That’s fucking bullshit unfair!” shouted Keaton in response.


    They’re here! This isn’t good! Alex narrowed his gaze.


    It had only been a few seconds when the wooden barricades snapped, finally buckling. Dust and wood chippings blew into the shelter as a stalker burst through. They squealed as they jammed themselves through the broken windows. The abnormally large furry rats collapsed onto the floor but were quick to their feet. The closest one flexed its dangerously long claws before taking off with a burst of speed.


    “We’ve gotta retreat!” Lyra screamed.


    Alex slowed his breath to regain composure. Then he whipped around and tried to sprint. But before he could get far, his legs collapsed to the floor, with an intensive amount of weight suddenly appearing on his back.


    What the!? Alex flinched. A long, sharp claw tickled his soft throat. From the corner of his eye, the muzzle half opened and leaked murky foam. It hissed slightly in his ear; hairs on his neck stood erect. Its hind legs pressed down on the back of his shins to keep him immobile. Even if he wanted to, Alex didn’t dare move a muscle; a single step and his head would be on the floor.


    I can’t use my knife. I don’t have the speed…


    A quick shadow flashed in the corner of Alex’s right eye. Then, the heavy weight of the stalker suddenly lifted and dropped Alex to the floor, gasping for air. It was Keaton who now had the thing in a headlock.


    “Alex, look away!” shouted Keaton. He flexed his strong muscles, holding down the struggling monster. His left hand locked its mouth, and his right held its thin neck. It let out small whimpers as it struggled, pleading to its fellow stalkers for help. But they couldn’t do anything. Even as some of them leaped to cut the distance, Lyra was precise with her aim. She didn’t waste a single bullet as she covered for them. Alex swayed back and forth, trying to sit up as the flashing lights irritated his vision. The dreary cries of those things in pain and blood pulsating through his ears made it hard even to focus. It didn’t help that his ears started to ring after the fifth shot from Lyra’s gun. His eyes fell over to Keaton, who’d been making small adjustments in his hold. It looked like he was preparing to do something else to the creature.


    “Keaton… You—”


    “Look away!”


    But it was too late. Alex sat there on all fours, eyes wide, mouth gaped in horror as he watched Keaton’s strong hands twist the stalker’s head with ease; the creaking snap of hard bone soon followed, and the deadly creature fell limp. He wanted to vomit. The ghastly sight made his body feel light and numb. Practically petrified, his eyes glanced toward Lyra’s direction back near the safe room. Without hesitation, she dashed to his side and grabbed his shoulders, scrunching up his high collar.


    “Alexander, get up!” she yelled.


    Within seconds, he was back on his feet. Lyra held onto the back of his sweater and right forearm as they shuffled back into the safe room. More gunshots erupted from his other companion, but Alex kept his mind focused. We can barricade ourselves in and find a different way out.


    Once they were safely inside, Lyra finally let go. The door then slammed shut with a gust of wind brushing against Alex’s back. He turned around, spotting Keaton pulling the vending machine to the door. He was fast in moving it, probably due to an adrenaline rush, but that was their only option. The machine firmly held it closed. Alex backed away, letting his friend have breathing room. The door thumped vigorously with heavy bangs from outside, but the makeshift barricade held strong. Even so, Alex watched as the vending machine’s base scraped against the floor with each attempt to burst through.


    It’s too crammed in here. No way to fight them, he thought. Without notice, Alex ran over and grabbed the second door’s handle, twisted it, and then pushed it open.


    Alex didn’t look back as he moved into the next room. They had no choice but to find a different way out. He cursed silently as his friends joined him inside. They had found themselves in a similar room. It was elongated with a set of doors on opposite ends. Though, on their left was a set of double doors. Above them held a fixed metal sign that said grocery section. Lyra walked up to it and jiggled the knob. For a brief moment, the silence was broken by a faint rattling sound.


    “No good,” she said, shaking her head. “It’s locked.”


    The only other option was the opposite door. As Alex went for it, another high-pitched shriek came from the room they’d left. Those things would no doubt bust down that door, too. They’re relentless.


    Alex quickly hustled through the next door and stumbled into a long, wide corridor that took them west. The hall had a few entries on the left side and matching windows on the right. A gloomy bluish light fed through and brightened up the area. The white paint had coated both the walls and the tiled floor. However, on the ground, an unfortunate victim was directly under one of the closest windows. He looked like he was once a survivor, wearing a thick leather coat and a baseball cap to cover his long, wavy hair. His skin was surprisingly not grayish. However, there wasn’t really any color left. The corpse looked… drained. Then, Alex spotted why that was. A large gash on the body’s abdomen had thoroughly bled him out. His head was slumped over, causing a few droplets of blood to fall onto his stained tank slacks. It was likely that the face was mangled. Alex stayed back, trying to hold back a rising feeling of vomit. It burned viciously in his throat, but he kept it down.


    Those things—the stalkers—Are any of them in here, too?