Page 7 of The General's Captive
I grabbed my bag from the bedroom and ran down the stairs. I was thankful that I had listened to my uncle’s advice, to always be ready for anything. Which was why I had already stocked up on supplies from the house I had been staying in, keeping themin the truck ready to run. Because it was clear now that the army wasn’t about to roll on through here and save me. They had evacuated these places for a reason, so now all I had to do was find out where all the people were.
It had been a solid plan, until I finally found the town of St. Anthony, one that still had power and therefore, I could see on the news how much of a shit show this actually was. The Rift, which unsurprisingly, was what people were calling it, hadn’t just affected the state of Wyoming but also Montana, Idaho, and parts of Utah too. The Rift had travelled up past three state lines, meaning evacuations closest to the Rift were taking place.
At first, the officials had counted it as a blessing, the fact that most of the Rift had cut through national parks or less populated areas. But as more reports emerged about the Rift, widespread panic gripped the states, and swarms of these creatures started attacking.
The Rift started where I had been at Lamar valley, it had then travelled across the land and into the lower parts of Montana before arching over into Idaho. Eventually, it ended somewhere in Boise National Forest. Which foolishly meant that instead of heading away from it, like I’d hoped, I had been heading closer.
That was why on day six I found myself walking down the abandoned street of a small town I didn’t know the name of. That was because the welcome sign had been spraypainted to saywelcome to Hell, Population-0. Which I didn’t exactly take as a good sign.
I had also learned a lot more in these last six days, seeing as now the name of the game was survival of the fittest. Each man was out for themselves, no one wanted to help, and it was obvious that people would sooner rob you than give you directions.
I wasn’t sure exactly when the looting started, but for those that hadn’t managed to evacuate in time, it was the only way tosurvive. As for the evacuations, the news on this kept changing, making out that they had saved hundreds of thousands. When in reality, the death toll continued to rise.
Originally, I had wanted to make my way to where the people were, but that was before I saw on the news about the mass panic. About the highway into Salt Lake City being completely blocked after the national guard had put up roadblocks. It seemed more like the government were working to keep other states protected from the threat, concentrating their efforts on putting up roadblocks and fences rather than trying to save the ones still trapped inside the danger zones. Videos going viral backed up this theory, and people became collateral damage as the army tried, in vain, to fight back against the threat. People were getting shot, gassed, or pushed off armored vehicles so the army could escape the swarms, leaving helpless civilians behind.
It was heartbreaking.
But more than anything, it made me lose hope for humanity. Thousands were dying in the heavily populated areas, because these were places the creatures targeted first. So, people soon grew savvy to this and started spreading out. Their trust in the government to protect them was near non-existent and that was only in six days.
So, seeing as I was eager to survive, I kept on the back roads and headed to smaller towns. And I did so in hopes there would be a more permanent solution put into place and that the government had a plan to fight back… and soon!
Because I had literally seen videos of creatures tearing into tanks! Creatures of all different shapes and sizes, each deadly, and usually cloaked in the same black smoke, with burning crimson eyes. Honestly, the videos on social media were the hardest to watch. People were literally getting ripped apart or outright eaten.
It had gotten so bad that social media was eventually cut off from certain areas, preventing the survivors from uploading content. But not before college professors or anyone high up in the field of mythology started being interviewed. Names for these creatures came to light and were being circulated around the world. Fantastical creatures that had only ever been known to us in story books or movies about Greek Gods.
Many called it the apocalypse, others called it…
The Takeover.
A Rift into another dimension that used to be linked to ours.
But then there were some who called it an alien invasion, so really, who the hell knew the truth? All anyone did know was that if they saw a creature, to fucking run from it! Because it was more than likely going to try and kill you.
And that was the rule I lived by.
Which brought me to now, and why every move I made came with caution in mind. It was difficult and slow going, but I always kept one side of me to the walls of any building I walked past. At least then, I only had three unprotected sides to keep an eye out for any monsters. Monsters was a word I started to use after the first video was released that showed a pack of demonic looking dogs ripping apart a college student. A poor unsuspecting girl who had been loading her car ready to leave the University of Utah after Salt Lake City ordered its evacuation.
So yeah, now they were monsters to me.
Abandoned cars line the roads, most with their windows smashed and fuel caps pried open. When my truck had finally given up, I would have looked up on YouTube on how to cypher fuel from another vehicle if my phone had any battery. But the problem with the smaller towns I was choosing meant the chances of them having power were becoming less and less. So, in the end, I had no choice but to start making my way on foot.
I had checked every single car I had come across for a set of keys, having no idea how to hotwire a vehicle at all. Now though, as I walked past these abandoned cars, I knew there was no point wasting my time. Smashed windows indicated there were no keys, and the dangling fuel caps showed there was likely no fuel left in them anyway.
Noticing a general store across the street, I debated with myself on whether to risk crossing the road or not. I didn’t like to chance being seen by God only knew what unless I had no choice. My backpack wasn’t empty because I was always picking things up along the way, but I also knew that finding food wouldn’t always be so easy, which was why I thought it wise to always keep stocked up on food.
I edged away from the wall and glimpsed each way down the long street. It was eerily quiet, and as expected, I couldn’t see anyone or anything.
A headache was forming, and it was reaching behind my left ear, making my scar itch.
I scratched at it and cursed under my breath. I hated the scar as well as the ones on my wrists, because they were a constant reminder of the day my uncle died. That, and the itching drove me absolutely insane. Thankfully, the ones on my thighs and lower back didn’t bother me as much, but I think it was because they were covered.
Eventually, my looming headache made the decision for me. So, I ran across the street, making sure to keep my footsteps relatively quiet on the concrete. Then as soon as I could, I hid behind a car that had seen better days, even before the vandals had picked at it like vultures.
My heart raced, not from the exertion but from the situation, and I allowed my body to calm as I rested my back against the cool metal of the car.
Then I got to my feet and my heart stopped as an almighty roar tore through the eerie silence.
My headache was soon forgotten, a thing of the past as pure dread filled my veins when realizing…
