top of page
Writer's pictureAuthor Bruce Shields

Pandemic Realm 001


Pandemic Realm 001

The daylight just began to peek over the horizon. The landscape appeared as a silhouette in the distance as the eerie soft orange glow of the sunlight broke through the treeline. She moved once more, trying to position herself in a way that would not hurt, but there was none. The previous night's actions proved too much for her malnourished and dehydrated body.


She stared at the field leading to the forest and felt her fear return. Nothing could change what happened, and nothing could make things better. There was no going back, and she knew it.


Sitting up, she began feeling around the ground blindly, trying to find anything she may have dropped in her sleep but only found the stick, rather, what was left of it. It was covered in a wet, thick substance. She dropped it quickly, remembering the blood, and wiped her hand back and forth on the morning dew-covered grass.


She had no clue where she was, only that she would not return to the forest. She listened intently to hear any signs of movement, talking, anything. Finally, in the distance, she made out the faint sounds of a generator.


With nowhere else to go, she turned and began her trek through the field where she had slept the night before.


"If only I still had my gun..." she stopped, knowing it no longer mattered. She no longer had the gun, tools, food, or anything else she had collected over the last few months. She had nothing as if it were day one.


She took a deep breath, trying not to cry.


"This isn't the end. I just have to keep going. I can do this," she assured herself.


She knew if she were not so dehydrated, she would be crying. So she mindlessly placed one foot in front of the other and walked in a daze toward the distant sound. Alone.

Comments


bottom of page