Something wakes her in the middle of the night. The normal gasoline smell of the room is off. Even closed, the canisters that line the walls hold enough to make the entire house reek of it and now something is overwhelming the strength of even them.
Then she hears a small scrabbling sound echo come from the hallway and instantly she knows what that ammonia smell is. Her eyes open but she stays still and quiet, hoping to pinpoint their location. Nothing is in the room yet, but there is movement coming from below. It won’t take long for them to overwhelm the house.
She grabs her shotgun from its space beside the bed, hauling herself up as she does. Years ago she had sawn off the barrel to make it easier to handle in closed in spaces or when she didn’t have time to aim properly. This was going to be another one of those times that it proved its worth. If she didn’t die before it got the chance.
Steal toed boots stand beside her bed. They slip on with the comfort and security of long use and good craftsmanship. These boots are not quiet, but going barefoot is never an option. After the first step she hears the scrabbling pause as if considering before it starts up again in force. That was exactly what she was worried about and had figured. She had been found again.
She grabs the flashlight off the stand by the bed and runs for it.
The hallway is clear, but she is brought up short at the top of the stairs. Near the bottom, a sea of beady black eyes is all frothing to get up the stairs. The rats have come. They are leaping off of each other in an attempt to get to the next step and it is working. They are already halfway up the flight of stairs and gaining.
She turns and heads down the hall to the bathroom. Part of the reason this house had been chosen was the upper story escape route. She makes use of that now. The window slides open almost silently thanks to her cleaning and oiling it on a weekly basis. The fall bugs should have been singing outside, but as she pulls herself out the window all she hears is the silence.
The rats had come. Everything that had been made aware of their approach was already gone or quickly heading in that direction. As she controlled her slide down the shingled roof she did her best to make herself scarce as well. The rats weren’t “technically” coming for her. They had just sniffed out potential food and headed in that direction. Sucked that she was the food they had smelled, but that was the way of things now. She had seen entire forests stripped of anything green, trees with stumps for branches and ground so bare that it could have been a desert. She had seen skeletons chewed to the breaking point. When the rats came, they stripped everything down for food and left nothing behind.
She drops onto the roof of her Jeep and inspects the ground before dropping further down and getting inside.
As people fell to the plague that had quickly spread across continents, the rats had risen. Bodies couldn’t be burned or buried fast enough… and the rats feasted. The indiscriminate food sources let their numbers rise to terrifying proportions that no one had seen coming. The few that had survived the plagues now had the rats to contend with and the rats came even more indiscriminately than the plague had. The plague had at least been willing to ignore certain genomes and genetic mixtures.
Behind her, something big collapsed. The rats were eating the house. She would be better eating, but they took what they could get. They were nothing if not pragmatic creatures.
On the seat beside her is a remote control. She wedges it between her knees and starts the engine. As expected the noise draws attention. Several of the rats fall off the roof and drop onto the Jeep much as she had done. She ignores them and hits the gas. The rats were almost nothing alone, but as a wave they had power. She drives a little over a mile away from the house and stops. This area had been scouted out days ago when she had first found the house.
She got out of the Jeep with shotgun in one hand and remote in the other. Three steps away from the vehicle, she hears the sound of furry bodies dropping onto the ground. No luck them falling off during the drive, or depending on how many had come with, maybe she was lucky.
They come sniffing after her as she backs further away and into the darkness of night. Only four of them so nothing to worry about unless you aren’t 100% positive that they aren’t somehow telling their friends back at the house where you are. Since she was now only about 60% sure of that she aims the shotgun and fires before the rats have a chance to try to bite her. The scatter shot flies out wide, as the shortened barrel is meant to do and the creatures turn into a messy pulp.
One had been out of the cone of fire and so only got riddled with a few of the small metal balls. The damage made it angry, and it snarled as it came closer, but no matter. It comes towards her and she stomps down once, letting her boots take care of the threat.
Her gaze shifts up from the rat to stare at where she knows the house to be. Hopefully, this will help the few survivors that are still left out there. With a flick of a finger she turns the remote on. This is why her house had smelled of gasoline, desperation. Another flick and the house goes from being unseen in the dark to being a large orange ball of fire a second before she feels the explosion rattle her bones. Maybe it’s imagination, but she swears that she hears the small screams from here. No matter, she had heard people scream as the swarms overtook them. This felt satisfying after that.
She gets back into the Jeep and starts it up again. The back of the vehicle is filled with bags of poison. It’s time to go to the next house she has already staked out. It is the 27th house that she will stay in and this one will be rigged as well. She will keep rigging and killing until either the rats are gone or one day she doesn’t wake in time, and the rats get her.
Then she hears a small scrabbling sound echo come from the hallway and instantly she knows what that ammonia smell is. Her eyes open but she stays still and quiet, hoping to pinpoint their location. Nothing is in the room yet, but there is movement coming from below. It won’t take long for them to overwhelm the house.
She grabs her shotgun from its space beside the bed, hauling herself up as she does. Years ago she had sawn off the barrel to make it easier to handle in closed in spaces or when she didn’t have time to aim properly. This was going to be another one of those times that it proved its worth. If she didn’t die before it got the chance.
Steal toed boots stand beside her bed. They slip on with the comfort and security of long use and good craftsmanship. These boots are not quiet, but going barefoot is never an option. After the first step she hears the scrabbling pause as if considering before it starts up again in force. That was exactly what she was worried about and had figured. She had been found again.
She grabs the flashlight off the stand by the bed and runs for it.
The hallway is clear, but she is brought up short at the top of the stairs. Near the bottom, a sea of beady black eyes is all frothing to get up the stairs. The rats have come. They are leaping off of each other in an attempt to get to the next step and it is working. They are already halfway up the flight of stairs and gaining.
She turns and heads down the hall to the bathroom. Part of the reason this house had been chosen was the upper story escape route. She makes use of that now. The window slides open almost silently thanks to her cleaning and oiling it on a weekly basis. The fall bugs should have been singing outside, but as she pulls herself out the window all she hears is the silence.
The rats had come. Everything that had been made aware of their approach was already gone or quickly heading in that direction. As she controlled her slide down the shingled roof she did her best to make herself scarce as well. The rats weren’t “technically” coming for her. They had just sniffed out potential food and headed in that direction. Sucked that she was the food they had smelled, but that was the way of things now. She had seen entire forests stripped of anything green, trees with stumps for branches and ground so bare that it could have been a desert. She had seen skeletons chewed to the breaking point. When the rats came, they stripped everything down for food and left nothing behind.
She drops onto the roof of her Jeep and inspects the ground before dropping further down and getting inside.
As people fell to the plague that had quickly spread across continents, the rats had risen. Bodies couldn’t be burned or buried fast enough… and the rats feasted. The indiscriminate food sources let their numbers rise to terrifying proportions that no one had seen coming. The few that had survived the plagues now had the rats to contend with and the rats came even more indiscriminately than the plague had. The plague had at least been willing to ignore certain genomes and genetic mixtures.
Behind her, something big collapsed. The rats were eating the house. She would be better eating, but they took what they could get. They were nothing if not pragmatic creatures.
On the seat beside her is a remote control. She wedges it between her knees and starts the engine. As expected the noise draws attention. Several of the rats fall off the roof and drop onto the Jeep much as she had done. She ignores them and hits the gas. The rats were almost nothing alone, but as a wave they had power. She drives a little over a mile away from the house and stops. This area had been scouted out days ago when she had first found the house.
She got out of the Jeep with shotgun in one hand and remote in the other. Three steps away from the vehicle, she hears the sound of furry bodies dropping onto the ground. No luck them falling off during the drive, or depending on how many had come with, maybe she was lucky.
They come sniffing after her as she backs further away and into the darkness of night. Only four of them so nothing to worry about unless you aren’t 100% positive that they aren’t somehow telling their friends back at the house where you are. Since she was now only about 60% sure of that she aims the shotgun and fires before the rats have a chance to try to bite her. The scatter shot flies out wide, as the shortened barrel is meant to do and the creatures turn into a messy pulp.
One had been out of the cone of fire and so only got riddled with a few of the small metal balls. The damage made it angry, and it snarled as it came closer, but no matter. It comes towards her and she stomps down once, letting her boots take care of the threat.
Her gaze shifts up from the rat to stare at where she knows the house to be. Hopefully, this will help the few survivors that are still left out there. With a flick of a finger she turns the remote on. This is why her house had smelled of gasoline, desperation. Another flick and the house goes from being unseen in the dark to being a large orange ball of fire a second before she feels the explosion rattle her bones. Maybe it’s imagination, but she swears that she hears the small screams from here. No matter, she had heard people scream as the swarms overtook them. This felt satisfying after that.
She gets back into the Jeep and starts it up again. The back of the vehicle is filled with bags of poison. It’s time to go to the next house she has already staked out. It is the 27th house that she will stay in and this one will be rigged as well. She will keep rigging and killing until either the rats are gone or one day she doesn’t wake in time, and the rats get her.