surface of the mottled ground was not the kind in which life generates.”
— Nathanael West
I.
A young woman walked through the woods of the Dunes State Park with her head constantly turning to keep watch. In the twenty-eight hours since Anita fled her dad’s house, she came in contact with three different monsters hungry for her flesh. Luckily, she was quick and was able to make a run for it before they could grasp her in their cold, hard hands. During the last escape she had to climb a tree and wait for the thing to lose interest and move on. She waited up there for fourteen hours. Her mouth had been so dry that she thought she was going to die of thirst in the summer heat as the sun beat down and burnt her skin.
“I need to find somewhere to hide. I need shelter,” she said to herself as she walked with awkward footsteps in red high heels along one of the dirt trails. “I need…other people.”
Her legs felt like cooked spaghetti noodles and her knees buckled at random. When she fell it was a struggle to pick herself up again. Her arms shook as her hands pressed into the dirt and twigs. She wanted to cry, but she didn’t have it in her. She smacked her ruby red lips together. Her tongue clicked on the parched roof of her mouth. She ripped the blue bandanna from her pinned up retro hairdo and dabbed at her drenched face, her liquid liner ran down her cheeks like black rivers.
“Where is everybody?” she asked aloud. “They can’t all be dead. I can’t be the only one left.”
The woods were silent and dark. Anita couldn’t see two inches in front of her nose for the first few hours. Eventually, her eyes adjusted to the lack of light and she was, at the very least, able to navigate around the trees with her arms outstretched like one of the infected. She couldn’t continue that way and survive. She had to find somewhere safe to lay low, even if it was only for a few hours.
She took her heels off and attempted to tread lightly in her bare feet. She clutched the red shoes in her hands with the heels pointed outward, the best weapon she had on her. “Thank God it’s summer,” she whispered as softly as she could. The sound of her own voice was comforting against the chirping of crickets and the rustling of the trees.
The animals didn’t seem to notice that the world was at its end. A raccoon walked lazily across the trail at Anita’s feet. When she felt the fur brush against her skin she jumped. The raccoon stopped for a second to sniff her toes before it moved on. She let out a burst of air from her nostrils, a quick and quiet laugh. In all the times she’d hiked the Dunes trails with her dad, never once had she seen an animal up close like that, let alone have one sniff her and decide she wasn’t worth their time.
“Bye, Mr. Raccoon,” she said with a small wave of her fingers.
The fat raccoon walked off and disappeared into the brush on the other side of the trail.
Anita was alone again, but the silence that once weighed on her shoulders heavily didn’t seem so ominous anymore. The brief interaction with the raccoon had given her hope. She wasn’t the last survivor. She couldn’t be.
She stood on the trail and stared blankly ahead, letting her ears tune in to the world around her to give her strained eyes a break. Her lids were heavy. But the minute she let her eyes close, her dad’s face flashed before her. His arms reached for her longingly, his teeth ready to tear the colorful tattooed flesh from her thin arms. Her eyes burst open as her heart thumped loudly.
“Come on!” a voice echoed from somewhere in the darkness.
Anita blinked a few times as she stood perfectly still. Did she really just hear someone or was she going crazy? She’d only been alone for one day. “I can’t be going crazy already,” she mouthed silently.
“It’s this way,” another voice whined. She squinted her eyes and saw a tiny white dot of light up ahead.
People! They were really
— Nathanael West
I.
A young woman walked through the woods of the Dunes State Park with her head constantly turning to keep watch. In the twenty-eight hours since Anita fled her dad’s house, she came in contact with three different monsters hungry for her flesh. Luckily, she was quick and was able to make a run for it before they could grasp her in their cold, hard hands. During the last escape she had to climb a tree and wait for the thing to lose interest and move on. She waited up there for fourteen hours. Her mouth had been so dry that she thought she was going to die of thirst in the summer heat as the sun beat down and burnt her skin.
“I need to find somewhere to hide. I need shelter,” she said to herself as she walked with awkward footsteps in red high heels along one of the dirt trails. “I need…other people.”
Her legs felt like cooked spaghetti noodles and her knees buckled at random. When she fell it was a struggle to pick herself up again. Her arms shook as her hands pressed into the dirt and twigs. She wanted to cry, but she didn’t have it in her. She smacked her ruby red lips together. Her tongue clicked on the parched roof of her mouth. She ripped the blue bandanna from her pinned up retro hairdo and dabbed at her drenched face, her liquid liner ran down her cheeks like black rivers.
“Where is everybody?” she asked aloud. “They can’t all be dead. I can’t be the only one left.”
The woods were silent and dark. Anita couldn’t see two inches in front of her nose for the first few hours. Eventually, her eyes adjusted to the lack of light and she was, at the very least, able to navigate around the trees with her arms outstretched like one of the infected. She couldn’t continue that way and survive. She had to find somewhere safe to lay low, even if it was only for a few hours.
She took her heels off and attempted to tread lightly in her bare feet. She clutched the red shoes in her hands with the heels pointed outward, the best weapon she had on her. “Thank God it’s summer,” she whispered as softly as she could. The sound of her own voice was comforting against the chirping of crickets and the rustling of the trees.
The animals didn’t seem to notice that the world was at its end. A raccoon walked lazily across the trail at Anita’s feet. When she felt the fur brush against her skin she jumped. The raccoon stopped for a second to sniff her toes before it moved on. She let out a burst of air from her nostrils, a quick and quiet laugh. In all the times she’d hiked the Dunes trails with her dad, never once had she seen an animal up close like that, let alone have one sniff her and decide she wasn’t worth their time.
“Bye, Mr. Raccoon,” she said with a small wave of her fingers.
The fat raccoon walked off and disappeared into the brush on the other side of the trail.
Anita was alone again, but the silence that once weighed on her shoulders heavily didn’t seem so ominous anymore. The brief interaction with the raccoon had given her hope. She wasn’t the last survivor. She couldn’t be.
She stood on the trail and stared blankly ahead, letting her ears tune in to the world around her to give her strained eyes a break. Her lids were heavy. But the minute she let her eyes close, her dad’s face flashed before her. His arms reached for her longingly, his teeth ready to tear the colorful tattooed flesh from her thin arms. Her eyes burst open as her heart thumped loudly.
“Come on!” a voice echoed from somewhere in the darkness.
Anita blinked a few times as she stood perfectly still. Did she really just hear someone or was she going crazy? She’d only been alone for one day. “I can’t be going crazy already,” she mouthed silently.
“It’s this way,” another voice whined. She squinted her eyes and saw a tiny white dot of light up ahead.
People! They were really
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