TWENTY-EIGHT – TANNER

 

Why I would think that the Savages would only go to the mountains is beyond me. I truly thought for sure they’d take refuge during the daylight hours where they were protected by nature. But the world had become nothing but a wilderness with only pockets of civilization, so the Savages could go anywhere.

I followed the Savages and the closer I drew to the unnamed town, the more Savages I saw. It got to a point where the road ended and I couldn’t go any further. Not by way of the Creeper.

It was not the mountains or woods, it was an overgrown city not far from Angeles City. The buildings were completely encompassed by trees and vines. There was a building with a domed roof and that was untouched. That told me it was the entrance and exit of the Savages. There were breaks in the trees, and I watched the Savages dip down into that area. Maybe that was their meeting place.

My stopping point was close enough to see I had found their home.

Then they found me.

Within minutes the Creeper was swarmed. It rocked back and forth and the noise was unbearable, even for me, and I was used to it.

Had they been smart enough, they would have realized that a group of them together could have lifted the Creeper and dropped it.

They didn’t; they continued to attack the metal as if they could break through. Then the sun rose and they pulled away.

I was debating whether or not I should step out. The scope gave me an ‘all clear’ view. I had to stay in the streaks of the sun to be safe and I opened the hatch, holding tight to my weapon and my crossbow on my back.

The second I did, I was bombarded by the most horrendous smell. It was sour and rotten, and I knew what it was.

Human remains.

I walked down the sunlit area of the trees and it brought me to the clearing. I actually heard the clearing before I saw it, because one thing always survived in this godforsaken world, and that was flies.

They were everywhere. The buzz was loud and they swarmed like a thick black cloud.

Pulling my shirt over my nose and trying not to inhale the smell, I moved forward. My foot sank into some substance and I glanced down. Lifting my boot, I saw strands of Savage salvia mixed with blood and I had made a footprint on what was left of a human head. Only one eye remained and the skull had been broken. The Savages took great care not to turn their meals into Day Stalkers.

I had seen a lot, and had the head been the only thing I saw, I would have been fine. But as soon as I looked away, the sight was overwhelming. The entire clearing, as big as a city block, was nothing but bones and rotting flesh. A garbage dumb for their leftovers.

It was too much, sight, sound, and smell, and I backed up, turned, and ran. I didn’t make it too far. My glands filled with spit, my eyes watered, and about twenty feet into my escape, I heaved forward and vomited.

I couldn’t stop. Not for a long time.