NOTE: The following story has some cursing.
The breaths were so deep that he felt his lungs were going
to leave the chest. He had the head of that beast in his left hand, and on his
right hand was a revolver with three bullets. Think, think, think he told
himself over and over again as he look again to the beast’s head, and looked
through one of the holes in the door to make sure that the other animals were
not in the area.
Damn, oh shit he said as he gave up on the floor in
exhaustion and despair. He glanced at the beast, and he knew him that when he
cut the beast’s head it him gave that commitment. People need to know, people
have to know that there is hope again he said as he looked through the hole,
but could only see smoke and fire.
He turned toward the back of the house, and left the head on
a night table that was in that room. He took the table and moved it away from
its door and any window, now that he could not lose it. He took his flashlight,
all who accompanied him on his journey until he found the dead cop in the
street with a revolver loaded with six bullets. He felt stupid because he
wanted a map, even though he knew where he was. Maybe inside he was hoping to
be closer. He was located about 300 kilometers from the alleged camps of the
few survivors. Between the camp and only were more than half a million a town
revealed, went crazy, got tired, or do not know what the hell, but just
breathing to kill all of his race. Other than fire, smoke and death. And there
were still being eight of those damned beasts.
When the neighbors of our country revealed, the fight seemed
fair, them against us, but then came these beasts and it was not fair. They
have a speed and agility that just does not seem of this world. Not to mention
their strength, they can destroy anyone into pieces with one punch. The people
felt fear, bend our knees, and now they're running and hiding.
He heard something and went to the door to see, but it must
have been the wind. At that moment he felt something running down his arm and
at that moment he realized he was hurt. He cut off part of his shirt and
covered the wound; thought thankfully was not very deep. Dropped to the ground
and remembered as the beast it was rounding up to the house. Played with him
for over a kilometer. It laughed and scared him. The tried to shoot it twice,
but the best kept challenging him and then dodged the bullets. He walk into the
house and hid. The beast entered the house to find him and started pulling
everything and make noise like wolves to scare him, but he kept silent in
hiding. The beast was looking for him every inch of the house, and when least
expected, a sound was heard leaving the beast to the ground writhing and
screaming. The shot was lethal. He took a table and smashing it up, and so did
every piece of furniture in the house until the beast stopped moving. He went
to the kitchen and look for a knife. It took almost half an hour to cut off his
head, but he knew it was a sign. They said the camps were in Boca Chica, after
the capital. He was one step away from the border with Haiti.
He stopped his thoughts and knew he had the 300 miles ahead,
but with the hope that he comes alive when tomorrow and have less kilometers to
travel. He took the beast’s head, his flashlight and gun. Do not look further
into the hole, but opened the door and walked through the fire and smoke.
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