Alexander’s leg was only growing worse as he forced it to support him. Every step he took made pain flare up in the now swollen ankle joint, and though he was trying to keep his weight off of it there was only so much he could do in the pitch black tunnel. Every step the young boy took was a gamble, for though the tunnel was strangely clear of the rubble that dominated the surface it was not completely spared the devastation that had buried it. The smooth metal of the rail had already tripped him half a dozen times in the dark before he had learned to stick to one side, his right hand guiding him by running along the wall beside him.
If Alexander made a noise above the barest of whispers he knew the creatures behind him take notice. They had been silent for the past few minutes, the shuffling noise that had been following him for some time suddenly dropping off. He wasn’t sure if that was a good or a bad sign, but the fact that he was still alive spoke volumes to the current strategy he was adopting.
Though the boy tried to keep his mind from going there, the cloying darkness around him seemed to invade his mind. It conjured memories that flickered across his eyes, painting themselves onto the black canvas that was his world now. The way the mutants killed seemed to never follow a pattern. Some corpses were found devoid of all fluid, just dried and mummified men and women left to waste away in the harsh sunlight. Others were torn to shreds, eaten haphazardly but seemingly toyed with as many times you could find body parts scattered seemingly as far as possible. Still more simply disappeared without a trace, the only evidence of their violent ends being the bullet cases they left behind. Whatever the state of the bodies left behind one fact remained, if you managed to get yourself caught by the beasts you would not be living much longer.
Alexander had been raised on a steady diet of fear and loathing for the former humans, as both his parents regaled him with their own stories. His father had shown him the scars along the man’s arms that he claimed the blood of one creature caused, and each of Alexander’s parents made sure to drill into the young boy’s mind the reality of the world they now lived in. Friends, lovers, and relatives had all been lost to the creatures, and seemingly each of those examples had lessons to teach. The morals they instilled in the boy had been simple ones, rules and tools of survival that he put to the test every second he spent outside of the walls.
The first lesson, and the most difficult for the boy to enact in the dark tunnel, was the need to be avoid the creature’s attention as much as possible. Every muffled yelp of pain could alert some heightened sense, turning a distracted beast into a frenzied one in a moment. Not that smell or sight didn’t play a part, more often than not they did, but the boy was operating off the here and now. Because he still lived, because the heart within his chest still pumped blood into the staggering limbs he travelled with, he had convinced himself that whatever pursued him did so based on the noises the boy had made.
Alexander bought into that theory with all the faint hope he could muster, and made sure to keep every movement of his feet silent. He kept himself focused on every step that he took, heart swelling whenever his movement did not prompt a response from the other life form. Every step he took was a step towards salvation. Every limping shuffle brought him towards something he could use to save himself.
Alexander faintly remembered the layout of the buildings above him, and though the actual location of the tunnel was a task he wasn’t equipped to solve, he knew there had to be an exit somewhere. After all the beasts that inhabited the darkness below seemed to find their way into the night without hassle, and he and his father had even hunted at a few of the openings from time to time. Though prey was never abundant around them, as the mutants’ voracious appetite didn’t discriminate, one could always get lucky. Though anything edible was never left behind, every so often you’d find something that made it worth it. A torn jacket that could easily be repaired, a small package of bullets, anything that humans could find a use for but the mutants could not immediately feast upon would be left scattered at the sites of their attacks or at the entrances to their lairs.
It was because of these frequent trips that Alexander knew the closest exit had to be nearby. His father had mapped them out some time ago, and though the boy only had rough memories of the crude map he was sure he’d stumble upon an exit soon.
Step by step the boy drew closer to his salvation, silent except for the occasional puff of his breath, only for that breath to stop sharply. He had heard something, and in a panic he retraced his steps from a moment before. His mind filtered through every action he had taken, noting anything he had done differently. Any sign that he had alerted the creature once again of his movement.
He was panicked not because the creature had revealed itself again, he assumed it would have eventually followed him down the tunnel. No matter how quiet he was, the beast knew he was down here. It’d follow him, hunting, until it managed to catch him. The noise he had heard had been different, both in volume, and direction. The sound had been barely above a whisper, and if he had not been hyper aware of his own breathing he wouldn’t have noticed it. Inches above his own head, muffled by the hood that covered his ears, he had heard a single rasping breath. Caught just as he had begun moving again, attempting to be masked underneath the tiniest of noises his boots had made.
Alexander realized he had made a fatal error the instant he had adopted his earlier strategy. He had assumed something about the mutant, something that his father had always warned him not to do. Rules had their place, generalizations saved lives more often than not, but when dealing with mutants almost everything had to be tossed out. He had forgotten a simple fact about the creature that had potentially doomed him.
It didn’t attack the moment he had fallen into the tunnel. Alexander had seen it, even noted it’s presence with a wave of his gun, and it hadn’t immediately dashed towards him. It had paused, and moved away, slinking into the darkness to avoid a shot that it knew would come. It had recognized the weapon he held, and chose to wait. That was something a mere beast could not do, that took patience and foresight, and though he had never known a mutant to possess those aspects the very nature of the beasts made it possible. All rules went out the window when the enemy you faced was a freakish creature born from radiation and pain.
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Alexander had assumed the beast in the tunnel didn’t have the mental capacity to truly hunt him. To tire him, to plan and to find the perfect moment to strike without putting itself into any undue danger. He expected it to act like a rabid wolf, and it had acted like a human instead.
The scrawny child leapt into motion immediately, raising the weapon he held to angle it towards the ceiling. He aimed in the direction of the noise he had heard, only to feel the weapon smack against something. Instantly his finger squeezed the trigger, a bang ringing out as a bullet whizzed into the darkness.
Alexander shrieked, his voice expressing the fear that gripped his mind as his thoughts caught up to what he had seen in the faint light of the gun shot. Inches from his own face was another. Ghoulish, grey, with skin tight to the skull underneath the creature had one hand gripped into the stone of the ceiling. The other had wound itself tight around the weapon in his hand. That was bad, for he now knew what had stopped his aim in the first place, but the expression he had seen on the beasts face was worse. Sharp, jagged teeth had been bare to the air around them, red lips exposing them in a wide freakish smile. Black and cunning eyes peered out of thin strands of brown hair, the nose that ruined the face more bat like than human. Pointed ears spread out, filling the air on either side of the sickening face, drooping skin making them seem that much larger to the boys frantic eyes.
They were plunged into darkness an instant later, and Alexander felt his heart stop. He could feel every thrum of the blood in his veins, his eyes once again blind to the horror he now knew was inches from him. Suddenly the creature yanked on the gun in its grasp, pulling at the boy’s shoulder harshly, another shriek echoing around the dark tunnels quickly followed by another shot. This too missed, and the arm of the mutant forced the muzzle some distance from it before Alexander could even register completely what it was up to.
“Hooman!” the creature jeered, the hunger in its voice easily read by the boy. Hearing it talk was too much, the voice was sharp, twisted and a mockery of any sort of human language. It over annunciated the consonants, and Alexander swore he could her the teeth in its mouth click with every movement of those twisted lips.
Screaming the boy fell, yanking back on the gun with all of his strength, pulling it downwards with both his body weight and all of the panicked muscle he could bring to bear. Alexander could feel the slight give as the creature struggled to keep a hold of the weapon, and that was all the boy needed. Feeling his back hit the hard ground beneath him, he squeezed the trigger once again. What had once been a teasing horrendous grin, had devolved to an angry scowl as the light flashed the room visible once again.
Growling like a mad animal, the beast dropped downwards releasing its grip on the ceiling above the boy with a scraping noise. Alexander felt the ground thump against his back as the much larger creature slammed its feet downwards. One foot slammed into the ground followed by the other onto his wounded ankle, prompting another pained yelp from the boy.
All pretences of being silent were thrown away as both the creature and Alexander screamed at each other. The beast’s was filled with malice and anger, high pitched and shrill, flecking spittle downwards. Alexander’s was instinctual, his fight or flight response kicking in confusingly with a voice cracking war cry.
Another shot went wide, singing against the stone walls as the boy yanked at the gun once again. Alexander was trying to keep track of his shots, trying to count them and save the limited amount of ammunition he had left in the magazine. Something told him that the beast currently slashing at him with the same hand that had buried itself into stone wasn’t about to let him reload, and every bullet he wasted on the stone walls was one more chance of survival thrown away.
Scrambling he fought to free his trapped wounded ankle, the mutants weight pressing down the moment it sensed movement, clawed fingers slashing at the boy. Two inch claws sliced into the thin fabric of Alexander’s hoodie, digging into the flesh underneath without pause, the wounds they left in his defending arm already oozing copious amounts of blood.
Reacting instantly Alexander tugged at the rifle again, kicking out with his free leg and slamming the limb into whatever he could reach of the beast. The tough leather boot connected against something in the dark, forcing the leg off his own and causing the creature to lean back slightly. The slight movement was enough for Alexander to capitalise on, lifting himself and yanking back with all of his strength once again.
For the briefest of moments the rifle was free, and both beings in the tunnel knew it. Instead of attempting to grab at the weapon again, the mutant decided to simply end the encounter, once again slashing at the boy. It aimed for his neck, its wide arch of attack digging the fingers into the ground and it took the swing. The bloodied claws dug through anything in their way on their approach to the boy, picking up dirt and pebbles and flinging them forward.
Alexander heard the claws coming, and knew he had limited time. He could hear every inch of dirt they passed through on their trajectory towards his face. He didn’t have time to dodge, the creature still stood over top of him, crouched low, and any movement to either side would just bring the boy against one of the looming limbs. Silently he aimed the now free weapon, moments passing as he held his breath.
Alexander heard a shriek of claws against metal as the beast slowed imperceptibly as its attack passed through the rail, and the boy took his shot. One loud bang rang out, filling the tunnel with noise once again, only for another to quickly follow. Moments later Alexander felt a gentle rhythm tap against him as blood began to drop from somewhere above him, dropping to mix with his own, hoodie staining rapidly as the second ticked by.
The beast shuddered once, the muscles in its arms tensing and dragging the claws ever closer to his face for another second, before it collapsed, weight slamming into the boy and trapping him against the floor. Alexander felt the life leave the creature as it gurgled against him, its last breath a forced and hateful one, sharp teeth inches from his ear.
Huffing his breath rapidly, Alexander attempted to shove the beast off of him, but his now ragged arm could only shift it slightly. Pain tore through him and it took another pained scream before the boy could shift the beast enough to wriggle his way free from its weight. Cradling one arm against his chest, he knelt, fingers tapping against the stone ground until he found his rifle once again. With shaking legs he stood, injured ankle now unable to take any of his weight without agony ringing through his system, and began limping once again.
He had to keep moving. He had to continue forwards, into the darkness. He had to ignore the pair of eyes he had seen in the distance on that last shot, just as he hoped they’d ignore him.