Chapter 7: Into the Open
1287 Words
The emergency exit creaks open, its rusted hinges groaning like a wounded animal. The air outside hits me like a slap—cold, sharp, and filled with the faint metallic tang of the wasteland. Finn steps out first, rifle at the ready, his eyes scanning the horizon. Lila and I follow close behind, every sense on edge.
The bunker entrance is nestled against a jagged outcrop of rocks, partially hidden by overgrown weeds and twisted metal debris. The landscape beyond stretches endlessly—a bleak expanse of ash-colored soil, dotted with crumbling remnants of the world that came before.
“We need distance,” Lila says, her voice steady despite the fear still lingering in her eyes. “That thing will find its way out eventually.”
Finn nods. “Which direction?”
I pull out the battered map we’ve been relying on—barely legible, its markings faded and smeared. I point to the northeast, where a faint marking indicates a settlement. “There might be something here. If we move fast, we can get there by nightfall.”
Lila hesitates, her gaze lingering on the bunker. “I don’t know… settlements mean people. And people aren’t always friendly.”
Finn raises an eyebrow. “You’d rather deal with whatever’s still down there?”
Lila shakes her head, adjusting the strap of her pack. “Fine. Let’s go.”
We move quickly, our boots crunching against the dry, cracked ground. The silence of the wasteland is unnerving, broken only by the occasional whisper of wind or the distant call of some unseen creature. I can’t shake the feeling of being watched, as if the shadows themselves are alive.
---
By midday, the sun hangs heavy in the sky, casting harsh light over the desolate landscape. We stop near a rusted car skeleton, its frame twisted and half-buried in the earth. Finn scavenges through the wreckage, pulling out a dented gas can and a few scraps of wire.
“Not much,” he mutters, tossing the wire into his pack. “Better than nothing.”
Lila leans against the car, her eyes scanning the horizon. “We’re too exposed here. Let’s keep moving.”
We press on, the terrain growing rougher with each step. The ground shifts beneath our feet, loose gravel and sand making every step an effort. Finn spots what looks like a dried-up riverbed in the distance, its banks lined with jagged rocks.
“We’ll follow that,” he says, pointing. “It’ll offer some cover.”
As we make our way into the riverbed, the air grows cooler, the sun’s harsh rays blocked by the steep banks. The ground is littered with debris—rusted cans, scraps of fabric, and bones bleached white by the sun.
“Stay sharp,” Lila whispers, her hand resting on her knife. “This place feels... wrong.”
She’s right. There’s something unsettling about the riverbed, a heavy stillness that makes my skin crawl. Then I hear it—a faint rustling sound, like dry leaves scraping against each other. I stop, holding up a hand to signal the others.
“Did you hear that?” I whisper.
Finn nods, his grip tightening on his rifle. The rustling grows louder, coming from the rocks ahead. Lila steps forward, her knife at the ready, her eyes scanning the shadows.
Then it appears.
A creature, smaller than the one from the bunker but no less horrifying. Its body is lean and wiry, its skin a mottled gray-green that seems to shimmer in the light. Its eyes are black pits, its mouth filled with needle-like teeth. Long, spindly legs end in sharp claws that scrape against the rocks as it moves.
The creature lets out a high-pitched screech, its body crouching low as it prepares to pounce.
“Move!” Lila shouts, throwing herself to the side as the creature leaps forward. Finn fires his rifle, the shot echoing through the riverbed. The bullet grazes the creature’s side, drawing a thin line of dark, oozing blood, but it doesn’t slow down.
I raise my knife as the creature lunges at me, its claws swiping through the air. I manage to dodge, the blade slashing across its arm. It lets out another screech, its movements frenzied and erratic.
Finn fires again, this time hitting the creature square in the chest. It collapses with a guttural hiss, its body twitching before going still. The silence that follows is deafening.
Lila stands, her breathing heavy, her knife dripping with black ichor. “What the hell was that?”
“Another mutant,” Finn says, his voice grim. “Smaller, but just as deadly.”
I kneel beside the creature’s body, studying it closely. Its skin is rough and leathery, covered in strange, scaly patches. Its claws are razor-sharp, and its teeth are stained with a sickly yellow substance.
“This thing was hunting us,” I say, my voice low. “It’s like it knew we were here.”
Lila frowns, wiping her knife on her sleeve. “We need to keep moving. If there’s one, there’s probably more.”
---
The riverbed leads us to a narrow canyon, its walls towering high above us. The air is cooler here, the shadows deep and dark. It feels like a trap, but we have no other option. The wasteland stretches endlessly behind us, offering no shelter, no safety.
We move cautiously, every sound amplified by the canyon walls. I can hear my own breathing, the crunch of gravel underfoot, the distant rustle of the wind. But there’s something else—an eerie clicking sound, faint but unmistakable.
“Do you hear that?” I ask, glancing at Finn.
He nods, his rifle at the ready. “Stay close.”
The clicking grows louder, coming from all around us. It’s rhythmic, almost like Morse code, but there’s no pattern, no logic to it. It sets my teeth on edge.
Then, from the shadows, they emerge.
Dozens of creatures, smaller than the one we just fought but no less menacing. They move quickly, their spindly legs clicking against the rocks as they swarm toward us. Their eyes glint in the dim light, their mouths opening to reveal rows of needle-like teeth.
“Run!” Lila shouts, grabbing my arm and pulling me forward.
We sprint through the canyon, the creatures chasing us in a frenzy. Finn fires his rifle, each shot taking down one or two, but there are too many. Their screeches echo off the walls, a deafening cacophony that drowns out everything else.
The canyon opens up ahead, revealing a rocky plateau. We burst out into the open, the creatures hot on our heels. Finn turns, his rifle empty, and swings it like a club, knocking one of the creatures to the ground.
Lila and I fight side by side, our knives flashing in the dim light. The creatures are fast, their movements erratic, but we hold our ground. For every one we take down, another takes its place.
Just when it seems like we’re done for, a loud, mechanical roar fills the air. The creatures pause, their heads jerking toward the sound. A moment later, a massive truck barrels into view, its spiked front grill plowing through the swarm.
The driver leans out of the window, a wild grin on his face. “Get in if you wanna live!”
We don’t hesitate, scrambling onto the truck as it roars past. The creatures screech in protest, but they’re no match for the vehicle’s speed and power. Within moments, we’ve left them behind, their cries fading into the distance.
The driver glances back at us, his grin widening. “Welcome to the wasteland, folks.
- Writer
