The serene waning moon barely illuminated the city that night. However, the man running across the streets didn't turn on his flashlight. He merely relied on his memory to get to their building, their safe place. He grasped at the heavy backpack's strap. The scent of blood on his jacket mixed with his sweat and breath. He was injured, but returning alive was a must.
Two of his companions had already died. He must deliver the supplies back to their shelter.
"Help!" He screamed as he reached the primary gates of their building. The old guard quickly supported him and took him to the entrance. He looked up and saw the metal shutters pull up halfway through.
"Get inside first. You're hurt." The old guard dragged the man inside, wary of grabbing the man's wound. "Where are the others, Mr Wells?"
Mr Wells carefully dropped the heavy backpack next to him. He collapsed to the floor, hugging his wounded abdomen. "…gone… Dayton got hit… Ross is… He lured the thing away from me… from us. A mimic… I can't kill a mimic! I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"
Their building was six stories tall, but the silent night brought his voice to every tenant. They crowded by the entrance, in time to catch Mr Wells's words.
One of the women gasped and looked at the guard. "Grandpa! Let me out! I need to find my brother! We need to rescue him!"
"Wait, Ashley, you can't go…!" The old guard, nicknamed Grandpa, gasped in response. "It's nighttime! The mimics are all out there! You won't last a second outside!"
"No! My brother is all I have! I won't let him die out there alone!" Ashley screamed and ran off. However, a pair of strong hands grabbed her shoulders. She gasped at the pull, her back colliding with someone's firm body. When she looked behind her, a tall man met her gaze.
"Stay put and tend to the bag. Your brother exchanged his life with the supplies." The tall man looked up to meet the old guard's eyes. "I'll bring him back."
The crowd gasped softly. They watched the tall man walk from behind Ashley and toward Mr Wells. He sported a dark casual get-up that matched the darkness in his eyes. His dark hair looked overgrown from his clean-cut style two years ago. The man somewhat looked ordinary, but his aura commanded attention. A lazy demeanor reflected on his gait, but his build was of a hardworking man.
He kneeled before the injured errand runner. "Mr Wells, can you remember where Mr Ross lured the mimic away from you? We'll look for him."
"Denver, it's almost midnight. Why don't you look for him in the morning instead?" a female in a white jacket and worn scrubs said. She held a cloth against Mr Wells's wound. "I know it's important to be sure, but you're injured from the last encounter. The building needs you. Can't you ask someone else to go? It's too dangerous to go tonight."
"If it's too dangerous, I have more reasons to go instead." Denver felt his bandaged right wrist. "This is just a bad sprain. I didn't even bleed. Also, mimics don't have guns. I'll be fine. I'll bring Mr Ross back in no time."
The nurse flicked her glare at his face. "Don't be all talk then."
Outside their Dandelion Apartments was another world. It didn't resemble the boisterous city that everyone once knew. The streets were empty, and the shops had been looted. They now lived in a city torn down by war. It was not even against another country; neither was their enemy human.
Two years ago, the whole world saw a sudden surge of strange carnivorous humans flooding the streets. What was once dubbed a disease gave birth to a new breed of monsters. They were called the mimics. They resembled humans in more ways than one but were aggressive and voracious. The mimics acted like humans whose conscious minds stopped functioning, regressing into animals.
The whole country had become a battlefield. Humans lost ground to the mimics, soon forced to cage themselves in big defensive cities. The megacities were equipped with heavy artillery and heat weapons to destroy every threat coming to their walls. However, the spaces were expensive and limited. The standards for entry were too high for normal citizens to qualify.
Denver and his family 'qualified' for these new spaces. His father was a man in a high place… and, not to mention, generous to his mistresses. The generous man could bring Denver, his mother, and his brother into the nearest megacity. Jackie, the second son, just had to go missing.
It had been two years. They were still waiting for Jackie to keep his promise.
Denver nodded at the nurse and turned to Ashley. "Don't follow me out. It'll break your brother's heart if he gets rescued while you get lost. If I don't return in two hours, feel free to creep around."
"Please save him…" Ashley balled her fists. "You already have a lot of responsibilities here in the building. I didn't want to bother you… but please… save him, Mr Turning!"
Denver nodded and gazed at his mother, who hid in the crowd. When their eyes met, hers narrowed as if glaring at him. He nodded at her slowly before turning to Mr Wells again. He borrowed the flashlight and thin hammer the wounded man had on him.
He watched the man bring his gaze up. "It's okay. There's too much loss if you didn't run when you did, Mr Wells. Everyone needs the supplies—"
Mr Wells grabbed Denver's shoulders. "Denver, that mimic… is nothing like they mentioned on the radio. You can't kill it… We stabbed the heart, but it didn't die… They said the chest was vulnerable…"
"Our survival guide told you guys otherwise, didn't it?" Denver chuckled and patted the man's shoulder. "Don't worry, this time… I'll go for the head."
Denver got up and swept his gaze across everyone in the crowd. "Don't be heroes unless two hours is up, okay? Stay alert. That mimic might be hunting with a pack. It's nighttime."
Humans should move about in the daytime while the mimics prowled at night. That was the first survival tip issued by the megacities. However, the group from Dandelion Apartments would always venture out in the dark. Denver had long known they were not the only ones in the desolate Abels Creek. It was more unfortunate to run into other desperate humans in these times.
As for the mimics, it was easy to lose them if one knew how to avoid them. If they give chase, Denver figured a few places where humans could get into that mimics could not.
Everyone who had read his survival guide always made it back alive… until tonight.
Denver gracefully ducked to get through the metal shutters left half-open. When the cold night breeze blew on his face, he quickly ran off to climb the gates. He had gone out to brave the new world more than a hundred times in the past two years. Stepping out was yet another errand for him. He jumped off the gates and disappeared into the darkness.
The old guard lowered the shutters to the ground again before looking at everyone. He took on their worried gazes and smiled. "It's okay. It's Denver. When did he fail to return home?"