The Rising
Gustav
As soon as Justin fell asleep I took over the guard post, pacing-marching really-back and forth across the floor. The other three were out like lights, and from her corner I could hear Alfreda talking in her sleep. The room was totally silent except for the occasional mumble or snort.
Bored, I pushed my hand back through my hair, and adjusted my glasses on the bridge of my nose. Near the closet in the master bedroom, I found a full length mirror, and stole a glance at my reflection. Nervously, I adjusted my over-sized t-shirt over my jeans. Honestly, the shirt was twice my size. The only clothes that really fit me were for kids-and that was probably one of the reasons I looked a lot younger than I was. “Ugh.” Grunting in dissatisfaction at my reflection, I resumed my pacing.
I soon grew bored of that too, and wandered out of the master bedroom, and towards another room. I turned the knobbed and pushed. The door didn’t budge. I tried again, this time harder. The door made a slight cracking sound and flew open. The smell of old perfume, air freshener, and the smell of mothballs invaded my nostrils. Ignoring the odd combination of smells I stepped inside the room.
The room was pretty much empty besides a desk and a chair that was lying on the floor, with the cushion seemingly falling apart. Something told me this house had been vacant for more than a few days when everyone fled town or was turned. I shook my head, and moved along one wall of the room to the desk. I opened the top drawer of the desk, rummaging inside it, looking for something that might be useful later on.
In the drawer I found an empty journal, an inkwell along with its pen, two packages of batteries, a flashlight, an old pocket watch, and a screwdriver. I set these things on the top of the desk, and moved to search the one other drawer. Inside I found a very old radio. Forgetting about my guard duties, I picked up the chair and put it upright.
I took a seat in the chair, and picked up the radio. Frowning in concentration, I flipped it on and fiddled with a dial. Not a sound came out of it, not even the slightest bit of static. “Schtrange…” I muttered, and shifted my position, curling my legs under me as I continued to fiddle with it.
My fingers curled around the screwdriver, and I popped open the back panel of the radio. There were batteries in it, but because of the fact the radio refused to work, I knew they were fried. Without looking up from the radio, I reached for a package of batteries and opened it, taking out two new batteries. I replaced the old ones, and tossed them onto the desktop. Confident it would work, I placed the back panel back on the radio, and turned it right side up.
I flipped it on, and heard soft static. “Yes!” I said softly, proud of myself. I fiddled with one of the dials for a moment. This time I could hear sounds coming out of the speaker on the little radio. I narrowed my eyes, my fingers moving to the other dial and turning it slowly. Gradually, the sound became clearer. It was music; old, classical music my father would always insist on listening to. I smiled to myself, and fiddled again with the dial that obviously switched stations. Faintly, I could hear the scratchy voice of a news reporter on the other side. The voice faded in and out, but there was one thing I heard that caught my attention.
“The whole world is coming to an end.”
I paled, and turned the radio off. Quickly I moved back to the other room and over to Colette. I shook her hard, almost violently like I had my father when I was younger and had a nightmare. I could feel myself shaking, and I could feel the tears running down my face.
“C-Colette…I-It’s spreadink around ze vorld…”
Bored, I pushed my hand back through my hair, and adjusted my glasses on the bridge of my nose. Near the closet in the master bedroom, I found a full length mirror, and stole a glance at my reflection. Nervously, I adjusted my over-sized t-shirt over my jeans. Honestly, the shirt was twice my size. The only clothes that really fit me were for kids-and that was probably one of the reasons I looked a lot younger than I was. “Ugh.” Grunting in dissatisfaction at my reflection, I resumed my pacing.
I soon grew bored of that too, and wandered out of the master bedroom, and towards another room. I turned the knobbed and pushed. The door didn’t budge. I tried again, this time harder. The door made a slight cracking sound and flew open. The smell of old perfume, air freshener, and the smell of mothballs invaded my nostrils. Ignoring the odd combination of smells I stepped inside the room.
The room was pretty much empty besides a desk and a chair that was lying on the floor, with the cushion seemingly falling apart. Something told me this house had been vacant for more than a few days when everyone fled town or was turned. I shook my head, and moved along one wall of the room to the desk. I opened the top drawer of the desk, rummaging inside it, looking for something that might be useful later on.
In the drawer I found an empty journal, an inkwell along with its pen, two packages of batteries, a flashlight, an old pocket watch, and a screwdriver. I set these things on the top of the desk, and moved to search the one other drawer. Inside I found a very old radio. Forgetting about my guard duties, I picked up the chair and put it upright.
I took a seat in the chair, and picked up the radio. Frowning in concentration, I flipped it on and fiddled with a dial. Not a sound came out of it, not even the slightest bit of static. “Schtrange…” I muttered, and shifted my position, curling my legs under me as I continued to fiddle with it.
My fingers curled around the screwdriver, and I popped open the back panel of the radio. There were batteries in it, but because of the fact the radio refused to work, I knew they were fried. Without looking up from the radio, I reached for a package of batteries and opened it, taking out two new batteries. I replaced the old ones, and tossed them onto the desktop. Confident it would work, I placed the back panel back on the radio, and turned it right side up.
I flipped it on, and heard soft static. “Yes!” I said softly, proud of myself. I fiddled with one of the dials for a moment. This time I could hear sounds coming out of the speaker on the little radio. I narrowed my eyes, my fingers moving to the other dial and turning it slowly. Gradually, the sound became clearer. It was music; old, classical music my father would always insist on listening to. I smiled to myself, and fiddled again with the dial that obviously switched stations. Faintly, I could hear the scratchy voice of a news reporter on the other side. The voice faded in and out, but there was one thing I heard that caught my attention.
“The whole world is coming to an end.”
I paled, and turned the radio off. Quickly I moved back to the other room and over to Colette. I shook her hard, almost violently like I had my father when I was younger and had a nightmare. I could feel myself shaking, and I could feel the tears running down my face.
“C-Colette…I-It’s spreadink around ze vorld…”