Tundra ran out of the house, his mother’s yells following him. He was going to just leave, but then he went back and locked the door. She wouldn’t do it, and he didn’t want anything attacking her and Olly while he was gone. Then he left. He ran wildly, not really paying attention to where he was going. He usually would have gone through the sewers, because they were a lot safer than the surface, but he was too angry to have any common sense.

Finally, when he saw it was getting dark, he broke into a building, noting the military surplus store nextdoor which he could visit the next day, and chose an apartment at the very top. He kicked his trainers off, and crashed onto a chair next to the window. From where he was sitting he could see the whole street. He liked that, he liked always knowing everything that was going on. He felt hungry, so he opened the cupboard and picked a can of ravioli, which he ate cold. He dozed off, staring out the window.

He woke up with a jolt when the sun came up behind the buildings across the street, blinding him when he opened his eyes. He put his hand up to shield them, then stood up and stretched. His back felt sore after sleeping on a chair all night. He checked the cupboard again and chose some canned pineapple for breakfast. He didn’t really like pineapple but it seemed like the most breakfasty option there.

Once he was done he made sure he wasn’t forgetting anything and went to check at the window if the coast was clear. It wasn’t. There was a turned infected out in the street, rummaging through a pile of burned bins right outside his door.

===

Tundra was staring out of the window. He could see it roaming the streets outside. He regretted running away from home now. His mother was an infuriating idiot, yes, but she was incapable of taking care of Olly, and he had left his younger brother alone with her ! He wanted nothing more than to go back, but there was that thing just outside in the street. It had been there for three days already, and it still hadn’t turned back. It was too near to the building door for him to risk running to the nearest manhole, so he was stuck there. At first he had waited for it to turn back into a human but that was taking too long. Olly needed him.

He climbed onto the roof and stared at the one meter gap he needed to jump. He couldn’t do it. He went back down, unhinged a door, struggled back up with it, and laid it down between the two roofs. Then he walked across, his eyes closed. That was stupidly dangerous but he was too scared. Then he went down to the store.

He figured that while he was there, he might as well grab some clothes and other gear as well as some kind of weapon. He was quite small, so it was hard to find boots that fit him, but he did. He also found trousers his size but picked a jacket that was a little big. He liked oversized clothes. He also took a pair of fingerless gloves because they looked cool. Then he grabbed a backpack, a tent, two more changes of clothes, socks, two canteens, a rechargeable flashlight, a solar battery charger, an electric lighter, and a first aid kit. He had made a decision. When he got home, he would leave with Olly. Their mother wasn’t able to look after them and they would be better off away from the town, and survivors.

He took a hunting knife and put it in his belt, but he wasn’t sure he would be able to use it that efficiently, since to stab something you need to get really close to it. He would have to find something better later on. He left the shop.

He walked slowly, carefully placing his feet on the ground so they didn’t make any noise, and tightly gripping the handle of his knife. He stared straight at the thing, which hadn’t noticed him, and walked over to the manhole cover. He got there without alerting it, but removing the metal slate would make noise, and he knew it was pointless to try to do it silently. So instead he took a deep breath, and pulled it off. It turned to look at him and he ignored it. He jumped down a few rungs of the ladder and pulled the cover back on, just before it got him. Then he dropped to the bottom of the ladder and leaned against the wall with a sigh of relief.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

‘‘That was too close… That was way too close…’’

He could hear it scratching at the cover at the top of the ladder, too stupid to know how to lift it off. He stood there, panting, letting his heartbeat settle. Then, after a few moments, he started walking away.

He knew every nook and cranny of these sewers. Before the spark he used to hang out there with his friends, at night, when they didn’t want anyone to find them. He jogged straight to a room he knew, that had rusted tools and other maintenance stuff. He picked up a metal pipe that had a practical length, and he strapped it to his pack, moving it around until he found a position where he could easily pull it out, but where it wouldn’t fall. As he left he walked past a spray painting of a dick, that someone had framed with the caption ‘Dick, Anonymous’.

Before going home, he chose to stop to get some cans of food. There probably wasn’t anything left at home, and it’s not like his mother would go to get some more. Olly was probably starving. He felt guilty at the thought. He shouldn’t have left home, he should have stayed there, no matter how much he thought he hated her. Someone was relying on him, damnit ! The supermarket he was thinking of had a stairway to the sewers, probably because it had been something else at one time. He went up, less cautious than he should have been, and rushed straight to the canned food. He stuffed things in his bag at random, not really paying attention to what he was taking.

That’s when he heard a scratching sound somewhere deeper in the shop. He pulled the metal bar out of the bag straps, and slowly made his way to the noise. It was in the animal aisle, deep, in the dark where he couldn’t see. Then, suddenly, two small lights appeared. He stumbled back, stifling a startled shout, and tripped on his own foot. He dropped the metal pipe and it made a loud noise when it hit the ground. He heard a hiss coming from the dark. He hurriedly pulled the torch out of his pack and shone it in the dark. It was a cat. It was frozen, staring at him, ready to run away at the slightest threatening move of his. Next to it there was a bag of cat food that it had been trying to scratch open.

He breathed a sigh of relief, then slowly stood up, trying very hard not to scare it. Raising both his hands to show it he wasn’t a threat, staring at it. Then, he took a few steps closer and it hid under the shelf and hissed at him. Oh well, at least it hadn’t run away entirely. He pulled his knife out and stabbed a few bags open for it. Then he left and went back down to the sewers.

He lifted the manhole cover by a few inches and glanced around. He could see his house, and the whole street. There wasn’t anyone around so he emerged. Everything was perfectly still, perfectly silent. Too silent. His mother was never so discreet, even when she was asleep she snored. Gripping his metal pipe, he went up to the front door and unlocked it, then he walked in, slowly and cautiously. Still, there was no sound. He found his mother in the kitchen, slumped on the table, empty bottles around her. So she had passed out drunk. But she was silent. Was she… dead ?

He carefully prodded her shoulder with his pipe and she turned around with surprising speed. Yellow eyes, sharp teeth, claws. Tundra yelled and stumbled back. The thing his mother had become sprung forwards and without thinking he swung his metal pipe at it’s head and it contacted with a sickening crack. It slumped down onto the floor and he stood over it, panting. He thought it was dead but it got back up and managed to scratch him across the cheek, before he swung at it again. And then again. Yelling the whole time. When he stopped it was really dead.

He had just killed his mother. That should probably have affected him in some way but his thoughts were focused on one thing only. He wanted to look for Olly, but he was terrified of what he might find. A six year old had no chance of defending himself against that thing.

‘‘O- Olly ?!’’ he called out.

He left the kitchen and went to check the room he shared with him. There was no one there. There was no blood either, however, which brought his hopes up.

‘‘Olly ?!’’ he called again.

‘‘Thundra ?’’ came a shy response.

It had come from the bathroom. His heart beating fast, Tundra rushed over there. The door was covered in scratch marks, like an angry beast had tried to break in. He tried to open it, but it was locked. So, his brother had managed to lock himself in there after their mother had turned.

‘‘Olly ? Yeah, it’s me… You can open the door now, it’s gone.’’ he said. ‘‘I’m here, so you’re safe now, okay ?’’

He heard the lock click, then the door opened and Olly looked up at him with a teary face. He picked him up and hugged him tightly, promising himself he would never leave him alone again.