Trying to Find Safety

Messages flickered across the screen; desperate cries for assistance, vague directions. Mila studied every word.

Kyle threw his hands up in frustration. “This is ridiculous. If they were still alive and trying to contact us, you would have found them already.”

Loud clanks echoed in the sealed tunnel behind them. Mila didn’t glance up but Corrine did. She chambered a bullet into her shotgun, staring at the metal door.

“Mila, anything?” she asked.

Kyle snarled, “We don’t have time for this.”

“I’m sorry. Everywhere’s under attack. I’m trying but there are so many messages.” Mila kept her focus on the computer.

The door shook. Kyle jerked out his pistol. All of their faces paled in recognition of the impending danger.

“There, I got it! They’re still a safe place. They’re at the Northern Silo.”

“Hopefully, we can reach them,” Corrine said.

The metal shuddered and bowed inward. Mila snatched up her shotgun. The door peeled open from the corner, the hinges squealing as the creature forced its way through.

A mass of pulpy flesh, teeth, and claws, the mutation snarled and snapped. Eyeless, it couldn’t see them but it smelled them. And it was hungry.

Shots rang in the small space, deafening them. In the buzzing silence, they waited for another to clamber over its deceased friend. Nothing further climbed through the door.

Mila pulled at the damaged door, mouthing, “Help me.”

Tugging at the metal, they managed to shift it far enough for them to squeeze through. They edged around the behemoth, most of its body slumped on the other side.

It was the only one, for now. But, they wouldn’t wait for others to hunt them down. They would travel to the Northern Silo and rally with the other survivors. The mutations would not win.


This is an entry for

Daily Flash Fiction Challenge  (13+) Enter your story of 300 words or less. #896794 by Arakun the Twisted Raccoon

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