I left the separated and organised body of my short-term nemesis on to the floor behind me. I shook some of the excess blood from my suit and readjusted it before moving past the security checkpoint again and picking up Jason that had just been left there after my untimely demises if..

I forgot to ask his name. I couldn’t help but click my tongue.

No matter.

The exit was before me. The night sky glittered with stars. The parking lot was surrounded by lush forest enveloped it and beyond it was a large metropolis with skyscrapers reaching for the skies. Even now there was a soft glow of fires and billowing smoke visible from there.

I stepped out and watched around me. The simple half empty car park was a relief to sore eyes.

My eyes couldn’t stop glancing upward and watch the visible stars and the halved moon above me.

I smelled the air of freedom. It smelled like decrepit death and rot. It smelled of carnage.

I raised my arm and smelled it. It smelt like freedom and sweat.

It was still night-time, late at night actually, as my project of disassembling the human body while keeping the recipient alive as long as possible through makeshift tourniquets had been time-consuming. I even had to wait for a while now and then when my nemesis passed out. After letting him enjoy moments without pain helped waking him up once I continued.

I honestly didn’t want to return to the asylum after so much time spent there and the effort to get out. But the thought of moving at night without sleep and with wounds was making me hesitant.

I decided to look around the car park. I was looking for an older model or a newer one that seemed to have bare minimal features installed.

Cars that might not have alarms.

I finally came across a badly maintained white Nissan Sentra which had its paint job slowly flaking off and rust was showing. I checked around it to see any blinking lights or any sign of an alarm system, but found nothing.

I broke the back window and crawled in. I hoped that the back window would prove the most difficult for any disagreeable shambler from entering. Besides, it would keep the actually more important windows intact.

I pulled out the middle seat in the back and entered the back trunk before placing the seat back in its place.

The back trunk was as close to a trash bin as possible, but it would have to do. I shifted the bottles and fast food containers to the side and made myself comfortable and fell asleep.

----------------------------------------

After an uncomfortable few hours of shuteye, I awoke and listened around. I heard shuffling around the parking lot.

Yesterday's unsuppressed gunshots had probably attracted a crowd from around. The unliving kind.

I took a good pat around and noticed my wounds had scabbed over again. I moved the body around and felt uncomfortable pain as bullets and shrapnel were lodged inside me. They felt somehow shallow and not deeply imbedded in me. Honestly, my movement was less inhibited that after yesterday’s gunfight and honestly, I should not be fine at all.

But overthinking things without proper knowledge of the situation was pointless so I just crawled out of my lair.

The slowly ascending morning greeted me as I crawled on to the front seat. When reaching there, I pulled Jason from the back and placed it on my lap.

I adjusted the rear-view mirror and looked at my less that charming self. Unshaven and hair filled with gore. Even my blue eyes had lost a certain edge from them, either from overexertion and fatigue or whatever I had become. I let out a yawn and scanned around the parking lot.

I had already attracted one of them, and it was making its way towards me.

I leaned my head on my hand and watched it approach before sighing. These things were such a bore after yesterday. Mindless and simple. Couldn’t they, I don’t know, mutate?

I might be a mutant, so why can’t they pick up the slack? Casuals.

The door unlocked with a click, and I stepped outside. I was still feeling a little drowsy, so I stretched as I watched the gathering crowd moving at me. Around 12 were slowly creeping at me.

Well, seems like they don’t consider me as their own. I did a last twist of my upper body and swung Jason at the closest one, who had noticed me way earlier than the others. My new found strength and a hit to the head caused the neck to twist into an unnatural 90 degrees angle and going down.

I winced as one bullet popped out of me because of the swing and breaking open the scabbed over wound. That seemed to be a thing now that can happen.

As my blood dripped out of the newly opened wound, the crowd got rowdy.

Snarling and picking up the pace from a relaxing walk speed to barely speed walking.

Support creative writers by reading their stories on Royal Road, not stolen versions.

I whistled appreciatively at the crowd, who had gotten motivated. I was just about to go to meet them before I heard a movement behind me from the forest. Footsteps ran through the dense foliage and detritus.

I glanced around and saw a group of nine men and one woman rush out from the bushes with assault rifles with bayonets attached to it. They wore an odd mishmash of military clothing and civilian that clearly wasn’t up to code.

I completely froze, unable to figure out what was going on. Should I hit them or should I not hit them?

“Put the weapon down and get behind us!” One of them yelled at me. I glanced at Jason before letting it go and walking towards them with my hands up.

8 of them rushed past me while two of them stayed and kept me at gunpoint.

I was lucky enough to be graced with the single woman as my guard. She was a stout woman with short brown hair with cargo pants and a jacket that was open and showing her sports bra and dog tags. Just like most of the 10 guys, they were wearing a mishmash of civilian and military clothing, but most of them were wearing civilian footwear for some reason.

Yet all of them seemed to have dog tags, which was peculiar.

As I got around 3 meters from them before stopping.

I looked at the two guards who were watching me suspiciously before glancing over to the 8 man kill team. They were making quick work of the mini horde with their bayonets while keeping distance. I turned back to my guards and smiled.

“Hi, um.. So they have deployed the military? Does this mean this is about to end? I am doctor Jason by the way, third year practitioner of psychology. Yale. Nice to meet you.”

My guards exchanged looks before the man turns to me. “That’s quite the.. introduction ‘doc’”

“Oh um, I’m sorry I talk a lot when I’m nervous.. Um.. Could you please tell me that you are military and I’m not about to be robbed and killed.. I-I don’t have any money on me.” I stammered out.

“National guard.” The woman answered while rolling her eyes and lowering her guard slightly. “And we’re not here to rob you. We heard gunshots from our camp during the night.”

“You are not carrying any concealed firearm, right?” The man asked.

“No. Heavens no! I can strip if you would like.” I said.

“If you would be so kind.” Came from my side as a gruff-looking man walked back after killing all the shamblers.

I turned to the man and gave a wary smile and nodding. I stripped, slowly revealing a multitude of bruises and scabs underneath my shredded clothing.

The trio took a step back while increasing their vigilance, their muzzles pointed at me.

The man originally guarding me whistles as he looks over my wounded body. “Damn, they don’t look like bites, but holy hell. Did you go through a shredder or something?”

I cover myself with my arms and chuckle, embarrassedly. “I really don’t want to talk about it.”

I was met with silence and looking around; I saw the gruff man watching me suspiciously. I bite my lip and whisper. “Fine. Domestic abuse.”

“What ya say?” The other man asked with a frown.

“I said it was domestic abuse, okay! Those are cigarette burns and escaping from that hellhole!” I explode while pointing at the asylum. “My fucking wife beats me and burns me okay?! Never has she fucking bitten me!”

There was another few seconds of awkward silence before the man who had asked sights.

“Fuuuuuccckk, man.. Look I’m sorry for asking but.. Shit's real you know. Bites are real bad.” He said carefully while lowering his gun. “Those who get bit turn into one of em.”

The gruff man sights and lowers his gun. “I apologise as well.. I was thinking those were GSW.. Gunshot wounds.”

I sniff. “I know. I saw some patients and co-workers turn from the bite.. It’s just been so hard. And now this..” I motion around. “Suddenly, right after escaping from my workplace, I get surrounded by zombies and then 10 soldiers jump out and..” I sniff again. “And before you ask, I did hear gunshots last night, so that’s why I got out today hoping it was the rescue.”

I pointed towards the guard building. “ But I found dead guards at that security building with guns and gunshot wounds. So I assumed they had a conflict amongst themselves.” I let out a chuckle. “I wasn’t even aware that there were others still alive in here.”

“Did you take anything from them?” The gruff man asks.

I shake my head, “No, I was afraid they’d grab me if I got too close.” I motion at my dirty clothing. “And I already saw so much shit in there so I just wanted out.”

The gruff man slung his rifle on his shoulder and came over. I flinched a little. He offered me his hand. His eyes did, on the other hand, show he was sceptical to say the least.

“Staff Sergeant Saul Garnham of the National Guard” He introduced himself.

I showed a relieved smile and grasped his hand and revealing my naked body.

“Jason Hall. Psychiatrist. Yale.”

----------------------------------------

POV Saul Garnham, Tank Commander of the National Guard.

I eyed the survivor as I shook his hand. He had a slightly slouched posture for someone of his physique. A lean muscular body covered in bruises, scabs and scars.

Apparently, he was a victim of domestic abuse. I see corporal Ventus eye the man with pity.

I somewhat feel bad about it, but I don’t trust this psychiatrist. Something seems off about him. I get a feeling he’s studying our every action under a microscope. Almost unnoticeable, but his eyes shift to us whenever we so much as twitch.

I let go of his hand.

“You can put your clothes back on. I apologise again for it but it was the fastest way to ensure that you are not infected.” I say to the survivor.

“N-no, I understand.” He says and begins to dress himself again.

I excuse myself and walk to the rest of the team. Lieutenant Winters joins me, leaving Ventus alone with the civilian. She slings her rifle over her shoulder and walks beside me.

It should be fine to leave only Ventus with the psychiatrist. I listen as Corpral Ventus chats with him and turn to Winters.

“What do you think, Ma’am?” I as her.

She scratches her scalp and frowns as she pulls out a stick from there.

“His story? Plausible but weird.” She responds as she throws the stick away. “Left firearms just lying around.. sure it could’ve been as he said. Stress could be a factor or the mere fact that he was afraid to pick up what he considered a murder weapon as he’s been stuck there these few days so he is not aware of what is happening.”

I hum and nod.

We reach the rest, who have spread out into a circle and are scanning the perimeter. We head to the middle where Sergeant Qill, the squad lead is Lieutenant Winters exchanges a few words with him.

Quill nods and moves around the circle and giving orders quietly while Winters turns to me.

“I’m going to send you in to the security building with a pair from Quill’s squad. Check his story and if you can find supplies. The civie talked about guns, so there are probably those and hopefully some ammo.” She says while pointing at the building leading into the asylum.

I give a crisp salute along with a nod and walk out of the centre towards Quill, who is already waiting me at the edge. He nods and motions towards the two guys closest to the building. I pass the circle and the two guys follow me as we head to the building. I glance back towards the survivor, who is quietly chatting with Ventus and drinking from his canteen.

I notice him glance towards me before I refocus to the matter at hand.

“Holy shit.” One of my escorts says as we see the interior of the building.

There is blood everywhere, windows have been broken and.. is that a..

I walk in and look at the neatly arranged human parts. It looks like a science dissection with all the body parts and internal organs neatly separated around a torso. Everything is neatly arranged and separated into its own neat rows, the rows themselves are then arranged based on size, with the largest body parts like the head legs and hands being first and the smallest things like nails being last in the row.

My breakfast barely stays in me and I hear the escorts gag. One of them goes outside without permission, but that is understandable. Hell, I want to leave as well.

I look at the removed face sitting next to the head. Even the scalp is removed. And all the blood. It’s everywhere around this.. crime against humanity. One massive pool of blood and splatters everywhere.

“Staff Sergeant, I don’t think we should be here. This looks like some crazy voodoo shit right here. And I don’t even believe in voodoo.” Says the escort who had remained with me. A corporal I believe. A man of Hispanic descent who keeps his hair shaven.

“Right, corporal..”

“Andino, sir.”

“Okay, Andino. I totally agree that we should GTFO of here. Let's just get some supplies and report back.” I say and finally manage to take my eyes off the.. what would you even call it..

I have to stop again as soon as I look around. An AR-15 assault rifle with a silencer is lying on a corpse in black assault fatigues and has a utility belt with pouches for magazines and tactical elements.His left arm and leg are bandaged and one of his arms is still holding the rifle tightly.

Hs eyes tell of astonishment and fear during his last moments that seemed to have ended with the glass shard in his side that was smeared with dark dried blood.

“What the fuck have walked into?” I can’t help but ask no one.