According to readers, my best stories are "Danger Prone," "Infected," and "Nightscape," in that order if I can recall clearly. Until I can think up more ideas for "Danger Prone" (comment please/suggestions welcome), here is "Infected" chapter two for now.
"You what!?" Sylvia's head was a cloud of confusion and doubt, darkening with every moment that passed. She paced back and forth wondering if her father and really said what he had said. "It was for the better," Bernard replied in his same, emotionless tone. She poked his chest with her finger. "Don't tell me what's for the better and what isn't! Have you gone insane? You're breaking down old man!" Matt's father gently pushed her hand away and sunk into his couch, his eyes leveled at hers. Sylvia turned away in disgust, grabbed her jacket, and made her way to the front entrance. "You're not going anywhere," Bernard said, rising to his feet, his voice increasing with it. Sylvia hesitated, the jacket still clenched in her fist. It was the only time for the past few years he'd shown real emotion. "I'm going after him," she said defiantly. The moment she turned her back, the voice spoke again. "Here!" she turned around to see a rifle flying towards her. She caught it with both hands, stepping backwards in surprise. "You're going to need that," he said with visible regret. "A gun?" she was aghast. "Since when have you had a gun? This could've gotten you killed! All of us!" He sat back down, sighing and shaking his head. He knew this wasn't going to turn out well. "I was afraid a moment like this would arise." She was reluctant to leave; she must've stood there for a couple of minutes or so until she actually left, her last words being, "I hope it's got enough ammunition."
Matt entered the store, packaged items decorating the interior; much like the objects found in haven. Colorful. Light. Most likely delicious. He snatched a random object off the counter, opened it, and popped in a few chips. He sat on the counter, munching on edible, red triangles. They were okay. After he'd finished two to three bags, he heard a deep wailing somewhere far off. He froze entirely for a few moments before deciding it was nothing. Just to be safe, though, he stuffed nine bags of red triangles into his backpack and headed off.
Sylvia zipped her jacket up to her neck and headed out the same hatch Matt had gone through. There were several bodies littered across the hallway, mutilated to the point where they were unidentifiable. She supposed it was Matt's doing, but somewhere inside, she had a feeling it was something far worse. She'd lived in the haven for twelve years, four years in the real world. She never knew so much could've changed. It was as if someone had torched the earth with a flamethrower and then placed it into a trash compactor. She wearily scanned the world around her, spotting objects both familiar and unknown. Not too long later, she came across a small convenience store; or what used to be a Seven-Eleven. The windows were smashed and Doritos were littered all over the floor. Someone's been eating. "Matt!" she called, her lungs still hurting from the last few hours she'd been calling his name. "Matt, are you here?"
She turned her head sharply to hear a deep wailing noise somewhere to her right. It was close. "Matt is that you?" she called. I'm coming to you; don't move!" she was unsure; the sound was inhuman but it was her best bet so far. "Matt, don't you-" she screamed as something bashed itself against the glass door. She toppled over and landed on the other side of the counter, the gun still in her hands. She panicked, looking left and right. She took a few deep breaths, looked over, and fired the gun. A cloud of smoke rose only to find that she had missed. The infected human bashed itself against the door, staining it with its own blood, oblivious to the open space beside it. She took a deep breath, took aim once more, and fired. It staggered backwards and dropped to the floor in a convulsing heap of blood and loose limbs. She turned away from the scene, nauseated. She felt as is she was going to puke, struggling to keep the idea out of her thoughts. My God, that was awful! When she had finally recovered from her light-headedness, she looked back over the counter, her gun raised. It had stopped moving. She was about to let her guard down when she heard screams, much like the one that came from the infected she had killed. Except that this time there was dozens. A sea of infected washed over the horizon, sprinting straight for the store. She backed away slowly, not believing what she was seeing. "Oh God...Matt!"
Matt stopped dead in his tracks. He thought he had heard his name somewhere in the distance.