Chloros: Avaritia

By Rafael Guerra

Genetically Modified Foods are highly questionable. The government places little to no restrictions in their development, and most of us have no clue GMOs exist. Unknowingly, we consume genetically modified foods every day. Is our health at risk? Even worst, will our DNA change over time?

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Dec 6, 2013
• ISBN: 9781620180693

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Chapter 1

                                                      2014

She had been on his trail now for a week, and if not for the tracking device, it would have proven difficult to locate him. In the past year, destruction had overtaken the world. Walking on the streets alone meant an early death, or, even worse, becoming infected. Fear had left her a while back, among other things, and if any residue of it was left, she needed to clean it out. She could not afford any mistakes and thinking about the outcome was not helping her nerves. She needed to complete her task and hope for the best. What else did she have? Nothing to look forward to other than death and misery, she thought.

He was in her sights but she could not hit him from that distance. Getting too close might be a mistake she would not live to regret, however. Maybe it was not a good idea to have come by myself, she thought. Like a tiger slowly getting ready to attack its prey, she felt fear slowly crawling in to her, slowly filling the void in her chest. She could not allow anything to hinder her task. She could see him but she needed to get closer. The target just stood motionless in the void, staring at nothing. It was a very eerie sight to look at. His rotting skin denounced his humanity, but from a distance, one could easily be confused. Those things had multiplied with a deadly force, overtaking the whole country; and she was not sure but assumed the world as well.

She slowly made her way next to a blue dumpster, making sure she did not make any noise. The smell of rotting flesh and metallic, dried blood filled the air; she gagged but with all her might, kept it in, ensuring she did not make a noise. While looking around, she could see that the weeds were winning the battle over the concrete streets. They rose from under the streets like knives cutting through butter, protruding the hard concrete with ease.

It had been a while since someone had attended to the streets and, anyway, no one in their right mind would be worrying about how the streets looked. For those who were still alive, the only thought was how they would survive the next day. A strong gust of wind blew by, bringing fear with it; for a moment, her heart skipped a beat. Old newspapers and dust flew right past her into the direction of her target. She knew those things had a very good sense of smell and she was close enough to the infected, that it could easily pick up her scent. If it did, then she definitely would be in trouble. Luckily she was next to the dumpster and whatever was inside masked her smell. Around the corner of the dumpster, she could see her target. There was a car about ten feet from where her target stood; if she made it to the car, she would be in firing range. She would have a significant chance of hitting it. No time to be afraid, she thought, and she slowly crawled her way over to the car.

Her heart was pumping so hard and so fast, it felt as if it would tear her chest apart and fall right out of her. She tried to calm herself down but whatever she tried, it did not help. She felt her heart racing, making her neck throb as blood passed through her arteries and veins. She was in a flight or fight state. Slowly keeping her head down, she crawled. The feet of the creature were visible through under the car. She could not wait to be under the cover of the car, getting ready to fire at it. As she was getting closer to cover, she concentrated on calming herself down for the shot. She moved closer, inch by inch, but then she kneed a Coca-Cola can. It went flying under the car, landing on the passenger door side. It made a rattling noise all the way through its final destination. She looked at it and her heart sunk; for a second, she lay flat on the ground, disappointed at herself. The infected human turned in an instant, ready for its next meal. It walked slowly towards the can. She had not but a second to decide what her next step would be. She quickly jumped up and, with tranquilizer rifle ready to fire, lifted and moved her arms, to find her target. Like a locomotive slowly gaining speed, the flesh eater charged at her. She placed her right hand on the trigger and her left on the green alloy barrel to stabilize it. Although the rifle had a scope, she had no time to look through it; the infected would be on her in a matter of seconds. She fired the tranquilizer gun; it met its target. She hit him on the left arm, barley. She expected him to drop but with no avail it kept charging. Frantically, she dropped the tranquilizer rifle and reached for the Smith & Wesson SD9 she had brought with her in case the first option did not work. Her hope was the 9 mm round would be powerful enough to stop the flesh eater. It kept charging as she was going through the process of taking it out of her jeans. She lifted her arm ready to fire; it made its way around the car. She detonated the pistol and missed, but it did not.

It bit her arm, forcing her to drop the pistol. She instinctively pulled her arm back tearing at the skin where his mouth and teeth had landed. Blood gushed out; it was life and death for her now. She kicked the infected, forcing it back. What used to be human, stumbled back, giving her enough space to run down the stairs into an alley. If she had had enough time to think, she might have decided on another place to run to but everything was happening so quickly. Her breath was erratic; she could not contain her fear anymore. She went down the flight of stairs like she had never done before. Blood spilled out of her wound, leaving trail of blood with every step; it trickled down her arm and into the concrete alleyway.

Her only hope was to get into one of the shops as she was defenseless against him. Running for her life, she dropped on a bike that lay against the red brick wall. Pulling it by the handle bar, it fell across the 6 foot wide alleyway. The infected tripped over it, giving her some hope of escaping. Whatever she could find behind her, she would drop in the alleyway in the hope that it would hold her attacker long enough so she would be able to find a back door open. She flew passed a dangling sign of an old massage parlor; at one time, a very busy one. She tried the next door but it was locked. She pulled it several times, thinking it would open but it did not. He was 10 feet away. She gave up on that door and ran to the next shop. The infected was gaining on her.

She tried the metal door which had seen better days; it was rusted and could probably fall out of its hinges alone, but she had no time to think of the details. She tried it, it was open. In haste, she made her way in but as she was attempting to close it, the infected’s hands reached in, preventing her from closing the door. They struggled for a moment. His hands were covered in what seemed like rotting flesh, but upon further inspection, it was like a hard external layer of skin. It was dry and falling apart. The thing yanked the door opened with force. She looked him straight in his eyes; there was nothing inside. A pale, white cloud covered them.

A tear escaped and made its way down her soft cheek. She back peddled in her last attempts to escape the inevitable; her life came down to this moment. The infected walked towards her moving through the clutter and debris. She backed away, looking around for something to defend herself with. With her attention on the infected, she did not notice the shelf that lay across her path. Her hands went up in attempt to reach something to hold herself up as she fell but there was nothing around. Her head hit a counter on her way down, knocking her out. Blood spilled out from behind her head as she lay on the ground. The creature had his prey within the reach of its fingers. There would be no resistance from her.

The infected could taste his prey as he walked through the debris to get to her. Her legs lay on top of the shelf that had brought about her demise, blood still trickling from the wound that the thing’s bite had caused. He slowly got to his knees as he reached the shelf and placed his hands next to her legs, gently reaching down and moving himself up to her face. He lowered his face inches away from her milky, white skin, which was covered with dirt and scratches from when she was frantically trying to escape. White pus oozed from one of the open wounds on his face, it trickled down onto her neck. Its face was covered with what looked like dead skin, ripping apart. The skin had white edges where it lifted and exposed the red, moist skin underneath. Its whole body was covered like this, only the torn shirt and jeans he wore blocked it from view. It looked like he was rotting away.

He opened his mouth and a loud growl, like something from another world, came out of him. It was as if the devil had possessed him and was trying to make his way out. With his right hand, he reached behind her head pulling her towards him. As he did, her blonde hair touched his nose; he smelled it and something came over him. He dropped her instantly; like fire it ran through him, reaching his head. He got up, pressing on his temples. Shaking uncontrollably, he dropped again next to her on his knees. Whatever was happening was causing him extreme pain. As he moved his hands down from his head, he glided them over his face. With the motion, he peeled some of the dead skin off, revealing tan colored skin. Electrical pulses ran through his head; he growled and moved his head from side to side, trying to shake off whatever was happening to him. Layers of pus-filled rotten flesh slid from his arms like a snake shedding its old skin. His pale, white eyes that showed no reflection of a soul slowly faded out, hints of brown peeked behind the cloud of white. It was too much for him and he passed out, next to what was supposed to have been his next meal.

Slowly, he regained consciousness. He was not the same; the skin that had covered him earlier lay next to him. Some still remained on his face and arms, but for the most part it had fallen off. He stared at the ceiling for a minute and noticed a giant black stain on it; he thought it must be mold. It certainly did smell musty. Something was digging into his back; it was from all the trash that he was lying on. He moved to the left, a small grunt came out of him from the pain in his back. He looked at his hands and could still see pieces of the white skin that had covered him. Still lying on the side of his stomach, he tried to wipe it away gently. It got stuck to his hands so he then wiped it on the ground.

He rolled over, putting his hand and knees on the ground ready to lift himself up when he turned and saw a women lying next to him. She was bloodied and her eyes were closed. Startled, he jumped up, scared out of his mind. He looked around as if he would get some clues from the old, abandoned, military surpluses store. Everything was a mess; it looked like if a hurricane had been let loose inside, destroying everything. His breath was heavy; his nerves tingled all over his body. Not knowing how he had ended up here scared him but not knowing why a bloodied woman was lying on the ground with no one else around terrified him more.

Hello he said, in a low tone. Still staring at the women on the ground, he noticed the same thing he had on his arms on her. Hello, is anyone here? This time he spoke louder, but no one answered. He then looked at himself and noticed his torn clothes and that puss filled, smelly skin-like substance on his chest as he peeked over the collar. What the fuck? he said. On the back wall in a dusty mirror, he noticed his reflection. He still had pieces of slimy skin stuck on his face. He stared at it for a few seconds then he wiped off what he had on his face. The situation was very overwhelming as he had no idea of what was going on. He thought hard but could not even recall who he was.

He walked towards her, and went down onto his knees. Miss, he said as he gently pushed her, Miss, But she did not respond. He noticed the injury to her hand and then saw the pool of blood under her blonde hair. His chest rose with every deep breath he took. He tried to control his nerves but it was not helping. He checked if she was breathing, but she was not. As he looked around, he noticed he had something stuck to his left arm. He reached over with his right arm and, as he pulled it away, he felt a small sting. He pressed his lips together from the small pain he felt. He inspected it closely. It said MZ-2 on the stainless still tube. Both ends were red and the needle was thick. Its contents had been emptied into him. The idea of an unknown substance in his body frightened him. Everything that he was experiencing was driving him crazy. Anxiety threatened but he slowed his breath.

A loud metallic noise startled him, bringing him back to reality. For a moment, he was lost in wonder of what was going on. The noise had come from the alley. He made his way over to the rusted door. Slowly, he peeked outside, afraid of what he would find. He saw six men in the distance; at least that’s what he thought they were so he screamed for help. Soon enough, he realized that these things were not human. One of them had noticed him and started to run towards him. Soon, the rest followed suit. Not being able to process what was going on, he stood paralyzed then realized he needed to get back inside.

Survival was now his main priority. He immediately closed the door and locked it with the dead bolt. He knew the door would not hold on for long so he looked for something to place across the door, with the hope that it would keep them away. He knew they were false hopes. He had no idea of what was going on and what those things were, but he was ready to defend himself to the death. He looked for anything he could use against those things.

By the back wall, there stood a metal weapons’ storage cage. In it were rifles, handguns and twelve gages. His hopes of surviving whatever it was that was coming rested on being able to get the fire arms. He quickly made his way over but, to his disappointment, the cage was locked. He had no time to try to break the lock or look for the keys. He needed something quick but all the weapons from behind the counter were gone; probably looted a while back. He frantically looked around trying to find a weapon lying on the ground. Those things had arrived; they pounded on the door with every intention of getting in. Nothing would stop them. Breathing heavily, he looked around and under the shelf where the women lay. He saw a black, tactical ax. In haste, he ran towards it. He pulled it but it did not budge. He tried it several times; the pounding on the door persisted. Beads of sweat poured out of his forehead, his life balanced on getting the ax out in time. The door came flying down, lifting dust as it hit the debris and dirt filled floor. Fighting amongst each other, they poured in like water coming out of the flood gates. With every last bit of energy, he pulled at the ax. The Tanto spike from the ax tore a piece of wood as it became free. The tactical ax finally was loose; he fell back as the monstrous creatures hurried to get their prey.

Like a cat, he rose quickly with ax in hand. This ax was made for battle and now it came down to would he know what to do with it. His blood boiled with rage and fear as the first one came at him from the front. A quick swing with his right arm and the ax came crashing down on its skull. Without thinking, he pulled it out and was ready for next one, coming from the right side. With an upper motion coming down to the right, he hit it with the blade on the chest, quickly taking it out; then, with a side swing, hitting the third one on the temple with the spike.

Blood and brain matter splattered, the ax still stuck in its temple, he gave a right kick to the chest of the one he had hit on the chest, dropping him to the ground. The others came running together. He made a movement to the left to try to get them one at a time. He knew if all three hit him at the same time, it would be the death of him. He did not know how but the thing was already on him; before it laid its teeth on his neck, he swung the blade first to its jugular, cutting the head off. The other one came at him swinging its hands trying to grab him; he moved to the right and swung the ax on the back of its head, hitting it in the middle. The sound of cracking bone could be heard miles away. In a single motion, he released the ax from the skull and threw it to the last one standing. It hit its mark, right in the middle of its face. The ax almost went through.

Before he could catch his breath, one of them rose from the ground. How? He found himself without a weapon so he ran to retrieve the ax from the thing’s face. As he did, he tripped over a broken stool that lay in his path. The creature quickly fell on him, trying to bite his neck. Though exhausted, he found extra strength in him and held him back by the shoulders. It would not stop until it fed its uncontrollable hunger. It grunted at him. As he battled with the creature, he was processing how he could defend himself from this monster that he had in front of him. He could not hold much longer; the face of the creature was inches away from his. He could smell the rotten flesh. Any other time, he would have probably spilled his lunch but, this time, he was not thinking of smells. His life was in the balance. With all his might, he tried to push it back but he was losing the battle. Its face nearing, he turned it to the side so as to avoid getting bitten. There he saw his chance; a piece of spiked wood that had broken off when he had pulled the battle ax from under it. It was his last chance. With every last bit of his strength, he slid to the side and pushed the thing off him for a second. He reached for the piece of wood and thrust it in the creature’s left eye.

He was on top of the creature, breathing heavily. Defending his life from those things had exhausted him. His lungs were trying to get oxygen so