The Valve

Rolling thunder rumbling over the ground above had suddenly come to a halt after I shut off the valve. The reprise of eerie silence always feels oddly muffled, a sensation that follows me through the dirt tunnels as my bated breath returns. As I step onto the concrete slab I stare up towards the exit and ascend the ladder of splintered rungs and crooked nails until I reach the iron hatch. With just a slight push, I peeked through the tiny slit of light assaulting my eyes.

       Wafts of burning death and decay hit me faster than my vision could adjust. It used to make me feel sick to my stomach, but that was before it became a symbol of safety. Throwing the hatch over, I rose to greet the blistering sun with a salute to shade my vision. How I wished I’d found a pair of sunglasses anywhere in this wasteland. If it weren’t for the valve and its connection to whatever set off that orbital bombardment of death, I wouldn’t be around to complain about what’s left of the world.

       It’s strange, I never know what the valve triggers, but when I turn the wheel, it sounds like a constant barrage of whirring bombs or boulders or something crazy heavy overhead. A remnant from the war before, whatever it is, it flings something down from the sky to cause devastation. Stranger still, there is never any structural damage to the already ruined architecture and there is no cratering or evidence of impact to be seen. All that remains are smouldering scorch marks from what I assume is what’s left of the monsters clawing and digging around the iron hatch, desperately trying to make me their next meal.

       All I know of the creatures is that they’re not human, or at least not anymore if they ever were. They’re vicious, and feral and often gallop on all fours despite shambling around on two legs. With near-translucent skin almost as white as snow, it was no wonder they didn’t like to come out during the day unless they were chasing food. Food, of course, was either myself or some poor, wandering animal in the wrong place at the wrong time. Searing flesh comes second to a burning, primal hunger, I guess.

       In any case, I always make an effort to return home by nightfall. A makeshift ‘treehouse’ of sorts built atop an old radio tower serves as my abode. It’s a bitch to climb every evening, but the dwindling yet present sense of safety is worth every aching muscle. Sure, the creatures could climb up it as well, but I’ve yet to come across one that wasn’t hissing or growling all throughout its miserable existence. If somehow I don’t hear them, stones and empty cans are hanging from ropes around the place that should alert me to any unwanted visitors. A pair of thick gloves and a long rope act as my contingency plan if any of them do get the jump on me. So far so good, I suppose.

                                                                                                                        ***

       The first night after the valve is always the easiest. Everything but me seems to be dead, so I don’t have to worry as much about getting eaten in my sleep. The same goes for the day ahead, though vigilance is key to staying alive... if you can even call this living. That and nourishment. Food is hard to come by, and while hunting is a good source, the animals weren’t spared from the valve. Like the monsters, they’ll take their time to return and I have to find some other means of eating ‘til then.

       Much like the trash pandas from the days of old, I now scavenge dumpsters and ruined buildings in search of sustenance. Food scraps and waste are no longer viable, it’s been far too long since anyone was around to throw them away. I wasn’t even comfortable eating the socially accepted mould on cheese let alone the fuzzy green stuff that’s grown on the crap I find nowadays. Not that I can afford to be picky, but canned goods, non-perishables and ‘lightly’ expired chocolate bars are preferred. I used to hate dark chocolate, but the milk chocolate bars were starting to go sour. Still, it was better than eating a dead rat, which generally works just as well for a meal. If it’s not rotting or already half-eaten, that is.

       Most of the buildings around this rubbled town I’ve already ransacked and picked clean. A restock would be nice, but a lone wanderer isn’t so lucky to enjoy such amenities. There is a decent sized shopping centre in the middle of town, but I dread the thought of venturing inside. The valve’s bombardment didn’t seem to affect or pierce through buildings and so I dare not think what horrors lay in wait. Sure, it’s dilapidated and about as ruined as any other place, but its sheer size alone meant there’s still plenty of cover, nooks and crannies. Those creatures could be nesting in there for all I know.

       Alas, the time has come for me to face my fears, or go hungry. Armed with a simple bow, a poster tube of makeshift arrows and a seemingly pointless will to live, I stepped up to the sliding doors. It wasn’t too surprising that the sensors were no longer working, but still, it would have been nice. They hadn’t been locked when the world went to hell so pushing a door to the side was easy enough. I hesitated to close it again in case I needed a quick escape. Thankfully, it rolled shut of its own accord, so I didn’t really get to make that decision.

       Despite what movies and video games had made it out to be, crouch-walking is an unnecessary pain in the ass that just adds another level of difficulty to moving quietly. Slow and deliberate steps are perfectly sufficient as far as I’m concerned. It’s a lot easier on the knees too.

       Like the rest of existence, the main entrance seemed void of any life. In this instance I was thankful. A couple of vending machines with candy bars and chip packet decals all over them had already been smashed and emptied. Judging by the deep grooves and claw marks, I’d wager it wasn’t another survivor. It made sense that the creatures had to eat as well. I can only hope they left some decent food for myself.

       The sound of an empty can hitting the floor struck my ear as I passed the concierge desk. Something else was moving around silently in this mall and I didn’t like it. Peering around a corner, I couldn’t see anything but a massive takeaway restaurant sign at first, broken and illegible. Its countertop then came into view and a little rat scampered across the granite slab without a care in the world. I rolled my eyes wanting to shoot it out of jealousy and spite, but it would have been a waste of an arrow. Sure, it could have been food, but I decided to allow myself to be a little picky. I wasn’t risking my ass in this place just to come out with the ingredients for vermin stew. At least if I could help it.

       I heard a sort of purring noise coming from somewhere. Where there are rats there’s bound to be cats, I figured. That was a mistake I wouldn’t make twice, for just beyond the counter I could see one of those creatures. It was on the floor, folded in on itself like a pretzel made of white sausage and putrescence. Its pale skin was covered in red veins reaching across its body in search of life. I’d never seen them sleeping before, heck I didn’t know they slept at all. Since it’s unaware of my presence, rather than rile it up and risk it alerting others, I think it might be best to just sneak on by and leave it be.

       I’d found that takeaway restaurants were a great source of overly preserved food stocks like hamburger patties that somehow lasted an age. Alas, the one I’d just passed served only bubble tea and very mouldy cupcakes, a treat I was inclined to pass. Lucky for me, around another corner and a little way down the mall, a rather large supermarket is just waiting to be pilfered. The roller doors are shut, but a side entrance through a connected liquor store looked to be wide open.

       Getting to that door was another challenge entirely. I remember when the shopping centre was full of people walking around, chattering away and shopping to their heart's content. It was noisy, bustling and any one person could barely hear themselves think. Now devoid of anyone else but myself, I could nearly hear my heartbeat echoing off the lino floors and bricked walls. One wrong move, stepping on any of the trash or debris lying all about the place and I’d no doubt awaken the denizens of hell.

       Slowly but surely, I’m sneaking my way through the mall when out of the corner of my eye I spot one of those things wandering aimlessly in what was once a bookstore. I can’t imagine that it’s trying to read, but the fact it’s already awake means I have to take further precautions. It swayed idly, glaring at the cover of a book that beheld an angrily squinting face half concealed in shadow. A staring contest like no other was at hand, and something told me the drooling creature was not going to win.

       An opportunity had presented itself and I wasn’t going to let it flutter by. I’ve drawn an arrow to my bow and taken aim at the creature’s bald, veiny head. One missed shot was all it would take to alert this thing to my presence and I’d probably end up as dinner, but the risk of it seeing me as I pass by is too great. I pulled the string, took further aim and let the arrow fly. It flew a little high for my liking, but eventually, it fell and hit its mark.

       Right in the creature’s cranium, the arrow appeared to pierce straight through. Its mouth fell wide as it softly hissed in shock and pain. A loud thud then echoed through the mall after it hit a pile of books on the ground, presumably dead. My eyes keep darting back and forth from side to side. The noise didn’t seem to draw any attention, but I can’t say I feel all too comfortable. I would have retrieved the arrow, but the bookstore was on the other side of the mall and it would be a waste of time and energy to step over all the crap strewn about.

       Pressing on, I finally reached the liquor store without issue. On the other side of it was another open doorway leading straight into the supermarket as expected. Unexpectedly, the liquor store floor was stained with booze and shattered glass. As fun as the prospect of crunching glass beneath my boots is, I feel crossing over the countertop full of papers is not only safer, but the rustling would be less audible.

       Climbing atop the counter, it seems easier to stay on all fours as I crawl towards the exit. Stepping over the cash register was a little tricky and I wasn’t prepared for the sheet of paper beneath my palm to slip under my weight. Thankfully, I kept my balance and saved myself from falling into a pit of broken glass. I’d be lying if I said my heart didn’t skip a beat and if any of those... things had been dormant amidst the wine bottles and beer cans, I’d surely have been toast.

       Finally, I reached the other side and crept through the exit, entering into the megastore. Groceries both perished and not await my sticky hands. Of course, nothing could be so easy as grabbing a trolley and picking food off the shelves. No, there had to be several pale monsters sprawled along the aisles, all peacefully purring in idle sleep. I’d have counted how many there were, but for one I couldn’t see them all, and two – I’d be counting well into the night.

       These creatures somehow looked slightly different from any I’d ever seen before. They still resembled some kind of human mutate, which for all I know they are, but I could swear I saw some sort of tentacle protrusions coming from the mouth or in lieu of a mouth on some of them. Others had strange-looking snouts with a singular horn like that of a rhino at the end of their nose. Scaled skin was another commonality I observed among these creatures. They weren’t quite lizard-like, but more as though their skin had hardened into a cobbled flesh.

       There were plenty of fallen groceries littered along the floor as well. Nothing but rotten fruits and veg as well as miscellaneous plastics I had no use for. What was once a luxury was now a hazard that could potentially mean my end. Nevertheless, I was on a mission to fill my knapsack with cans of food and drink.

       Amidst the purring I heard some hissing and soft growling coming from behind some shelves, a clear indication that not all of the creatures here were asleep. I had to be careful as the canned goods section wasn’t going to be somewhere easy for me to reach, like right at the checkouts for instance. No, I had to creep at least halfway into the store to find what I was looking for. Typical.

       Stepping over a couple of slumbering creatures, the temptation to slit their necks with the tip of an arrow rises ever higher. Not wanting to risk waking them or others, I keep chickening out. In hindsight, that’s probably for the best.

       I continue peeking around the shelves of every aisle before passing to ensure nothing is looking my way. That and hoping that my eye doesn’t meet with one of theirs. Sneaking past the first two was fairly simple, but the third had a couple of pale skins rustling through the cosmetics section with their sharp, elongated fingers. I doubt they were looking for a particular shade of lipstick or blush, so any movement is sure to draw their eye. They’re fairly close to my end of the shelves as well which isn’t making things any easier.

       The thought to distract them by tossing some rubbish or a coin or something had crossed my mind, but then that might just be enough to wake the others and that wouldn’t be ideal. Perhaps I could go down another aisle where there were no monstrous beasties, but then they were present in all of them. They just happened to be awake right at the edge of the one I needed to pass by.

       With no other options coming to mind, I knocked another arrow slowly to my bow and drew the string. As fast as I could manage whilst staying relatively quiet, I peeked down the aisle and shot one of them right through the ears. A long hiss and toppling thud came next with a gurgling growl to follow. I assumed the gurgling was from the other creature, confused as to why its companion had suddenly fallen to the ground. Not wanting to leave them in a state of confusion, nor one where they could potentially sound off an alarm of danger, I quickly whipped another arrow to my bow and shot the monster through its saggy eye socket.

       Perhaps it was looking for some sort of beautification product after all. I’d prefer not to humanise the monsters, so instead I’ll simply enjoy the soft hissing and eventual thud the creature makes as it meets face to ass with its friend. I’m beginning to think I might be taking too much joy in this.

       None of the others seemed to wake, so I have ample time to retrieve my arrows. Dislodging them is a tad harder than I’d hoped. The moist squelching of the first arrow between the ears is horrible enough, but it keeps getting caught on what I can only assume is the ear canal. I guess only retrieving the one from the eye socket will suffice. That one came easy, albeit with a bit of eye stem wrapped around the end. Oh well, I still have a handful of arrows left.

       Two aisles more were easy enough to pass and then finally I had reached the canned food. There was one pale skin down the other end of the aisle staring in my direction, but a swift arrow to the head sent him falling to the floor in no time at all. It’s way too satisfying taking them out one by one. Though I’m beginning to wonder at what point have I become the monster?

       Oh well. Since I’ve cleared the rough vicinity of immediate dangers, it’s time to grab as many cans as I can fit in my bag. Mind you, they’re beginning to add up in weight and I haven’t even looked at the drinks section yet. The knapsack’s already looking full, but maybe I can get just one more can of baked beans in. The rest will have to wait ‘til I return. My heart then dropped into the pit of my stomach as I heard the sound of stretched fabric begin to tear.

       “Noooo,” I whispered aloud. My eyes are clenched tighter than my ass, hoping that that was the seam of my pants and not the knapsack. The ensuing clanks and clunks of canned beans and pasta on the lino told me otherwise. My heart seemed to rise back up almost out of my throat as the beats grew faster. The sound of purrs slowly faded, replaced with gurgling growls and hissing.

       All I can do now is knock another arrow to my bow and hope to remain unnoticed as I scurry elsewhere. As is the way, two white claws slipped around the end of the aisle I’m sneaking towards. Looking back, there was already a handful of the pale skins shuffling down the aisle towards me, looking somewhat groggy from waking. The shelves aren’t sturdy enough for me to climb, yet they’re far too heavy for me to push and topple over. My choices are one of two directions and since my initial path is closer to the exit - a coin toss would be redundant.

       Throwing caution to the wind, I started to run and pre-emptively drew my bow. Two of those creatures pulled themselves into the aisle and stopped for only a moment to register my existence. I’d never known their eyes to glow with pinkish hues, but it was hard not to notice when they’re staring right at you.

       Not willing to miss the opportunity I’d been granted, I let the arrow fly and it skewered one of them right through the eye. “Lights out for you,” I thought with a smirk. It fell dead to the ground yet its companion took no notice. Instead, its glare was fixed upon me. Drool began to seep from its pustulant lower jaw, among other liquids I wasn’t quite sure about.

       Since I was already running towards the creature, I didn’t really have time to reach for and knock another arrow. Instead, I raised my bow and readied to use it as a flimsy sort of club. The thing leapt out towards me, razor talons stretched out to tear my flesh from bone. I swung my bow like a baseball player and smashed it into the creature’s neck. It tumbled backwards and to the side leaving me ample room to run out of the aisle.

       I always hated those greeters at the shops as I never really knew how to properly respond. Compared to the ten to fifteen pale skins greeting me at the storefront now, I honestly would have preferred the nice old granny who’d check my dockets. They were hunched on the ground, ready to spring into a gallop of death at any moment. With a bunch more of the creatures behind me, I couldn’t afford to wait around. Drawing another arrow to my bow, I pulled back on the string only for the top bloody arm to snap off. There’s a good reason you’re not supposed to use the bow itself as a melee weapon.

       With the broken bow in one hand and an arrow in the other, I rushed towards the creatures, swinging and stabbing as best I could. They toppled backwards with each successful strike and I quickly stepped on top of the fallen, hoping to gain some high ground. At the very least, I hoped to launch myself over the others. For the most part, I somehow cleared at least two or three of them. That’s when I felt a very sharp pain enter my right leg. One of the bastards’ claws must have caught my calf as it tore my boot clean off. It was difficult not to scream and a tiny little grunt still managed to push past my clenched teeth.

       Kicking the creature with my now good foot and twisting as best I could, I somehow managed to wriggle free. Good luck for a change, the path towards the liquor store was relatively free. Limping seemed to be all I could manage, so I limped as fast as I could, swatting away at least another two creatures as they jumped at me. Once inside the liquor store, I quickly turned and pulled down the security roller door. It was just a bunch of metal rods with plenty of airspace in between, but nothing large enough for them to crawl through. It was enough to buy me a little bit of time at least from the many more than ten to fifteen that I had originally spotted.

       Their growls, gurgles and hissing screeches were enough to wake up the dead, but it seemed my own scream that soon followed would take care of that if they didn’t. In my haste to leave, I’d forgotten about the broken glass along the liquor store floor and stepped straight into several shards with my bare foot. There was no grunting this time, just a full-on scream of cussing and indecipherable noise. Oh my god, the pain is immeasurable. The sound of more glass shattering returned me my wits, however. It seems there was a slumbering creature amidst the wine bottles and beer cans after all. It was just a heavy sleeper, but now I truly had awakened it and probably every other pale skin in the entire shopping centre.

       From limping to hopping, this day couldn’t get any better. Hopping along as hastily as I could, I made my way out of the liquor store and back into the main mall. Several more magenta lights were staring at me from within the shadows than before and it rightly made my skin crawl. Picking the glass out of the sole of my foot would have been nice, but there was no time and I didn’t have the luxury of being able to slowly hop away. I took several deep breaths to psyche myself up. With great pain and many moans, I planted my bare foot on the ground and took one limping step after another, headed back towards where I had entered.

       After the first ten or so steps you kind of get used to the odd sensation of glass deeply embedded in your tendons and just get on with it. Judging by my chest’s rapid thumping, I had to assume adrenaline had a good deal to do with my coping as well.

       Somehow, I’d made it to the bubble tea takeaway place leaving only a trail of blood and gurgling horrors behind me. That’s when the pale skin I’d left alone earlier had to show its big, ugly, cleft-jawed face. I swiped at it with my bow, but it caught the haft within its claw. Thinking fast, I pulled an arrow from over my shoulder and jammed it into the creature’s throat. It screamed and gurgled then backhanded me across the face. I was sent flying across the mall from the impact alone. Those creatures were stronger than I ever gave them credit for.

       Luckily, I was sent flying towards the exit. It was a struggle to scramble to my feet, but I managed in the end with just enough time to see that bubble tea bastard bleed out to death. Unfortunately, there were more of them heading my way, so I couldn’t go back and retrieve my bow. Hobbling the rest of the way to the exit, I pushed open the sliding doors with all the strength I had left. The screeching and gurgling were growing louder behind me, so I quickly stepped outside and pushed the doors closed once more.

       A single white claw managed to force its way between the doors and held them ajar. I wanted to kick it, but quickly realised my foley as I lifted my bloodied foot. So many of the creatures were in pursuit behind it, there was no way I was going to see tomorrow without heading to the valve. With my last arrow, I stabbed the claw and pushed it back inside. I had just enough time to close the sliding doors before it reached back to grab me. Oh, how I wish I could have locked them, but they seemed to struggle with the sliding concept anyway.

       Sucking up the pain again, I had to limp, then run and then limp some more towards the edge of town. I heard the mall doors get smashed to bits behind me, making way for the spawns of evil to break through. The head start I’d managed to give myself should have been more than enough for me to get to the iron hatch. At least that’s what I was hoping. It certainly would have been if I didn’t have a foot full of glass.

       The screeching and wails from the monsters were getting louder and more accumulated as if others had joined the chase from elsewhere in town. The pale bastards were like cockroaches. You could kill a bunch of them, yet somehow there’s always a million more in hiding.

       I finally reached the hatch as the horde of pale skins was drawing near. Somehow, I managed to twist open the lock, climb in and shut the door before getting swiped by their claws. Never had so many chased me down before, I made damn sure to lock the hatch this time. As per usual, I could still hear them digging outside, clawing at the ground to get to me. It was louder this time, but I suppose that comes with having more claws doing the digging.

       Normally I’d climb down the ladder as fast I could but with one foot cut to ribbons, I could only hop down each splintered rung slower than what felt like molasses. A shiver ran down my spine as I’d never been able to hear the creatures so clearly through the walls as deep as I had already descended. It’d be a lie if I said I wasn’t worried, the tunnels to reach the valve were just caverns of dirt and stone after all. If they could dig that fast down the shaft, how easy would it be for them to penetrate the walls? Could the bombardment even reach them now that they were so far underground?

       Pondering those questions would have to wait, I first needed to make it to the valve and I only just reached the bottom of the ladder. My foot is absolutely killing me. With the added security of the hatch and the dirt bunker, despite my concerns, I’m willing to take a little more time hobbling for “comfort’s” sake. That was when I heard a loud crashing of metal and what I can only describe as a hundred cracking whips. You know what? Comfort’s overrated. I did not like that sound.

       The screeching and gurgles were growing louder than my own grunts and groans, yet thankfully they still seemed muffled behind the walls. Soon the valve came into reach and its metal embraced my slumping body of everlasting sufferance. At this point I’m just exhausted, sweating, seething, bleeding and all around just done with it all. That said, I needed to muster the strength to actually turn the wheel. My knuckles shook, my wrists turned blue and my teeth ground together. After a couple of large breaths and a few hefty tugs, the valve finally turned on its axle to the open position. Or on position. I’m not really in the mood to argue semantics with myself.

       All I have to do now is wait for the thundering bombardment and the monstrous shrieking will soon be silenced. I just have to wait. And wait. And wait some more...

       ...it has just occurred to me though, that the valve was never really that tough to twist before. Something must have changed, but the only thing I could think of was the monsters digging and then those strange, loud noises of the metal and whips.

       The pessimist inside me would wager those sounds were the monsters breaking whatever it was that connected the valve to the orbital bombardment system. Of course, that would render the valve just a heavy disc on a stick. The optimist inside me wagers that was them hitting a gas pipe or something and the creatures are now slowly suffocating themselves underground and the bombardment is just a tad delayed. The realist in me, however, sees those oh-so-familiar white claws reaching around the corner of dirt and wagers that much like the valve, I appear to be screwed.