As the Erickoey Virus continues to spread, governments across the globe had no choice but to quarantine all major cities in order to prevent the virus from infecting the farmers and their crops. The infectious disease has not yet managed to become airborne. However, it can be transmitted through bodily fluids, including any fluids that may seep into the soil. Therefore, water and waste have been shut off, leaving all highly populated areas barren of fresh drinking water and overwhelmed with stench and dangerous gases that are escaping from the sewer systems.
Thus far the quarantine has proven effective, aside from one ginormous flaw: it has been discovered that a child carries a natural immunity to the virus, despite being the son of patient zero. That’s right! Our very existence now depends on none other than the Shack’s infamous Bort Ick-Ality, son of Erick and Comicality.
Unfortunately, the child has been sealed within the barrier walls of LA, along with thousands upon thousands of infected souls and desperate civilians. Although the odds are against him, one valiant hero volunteered himself to retrieve Bort from the oversized tomb: me. I am a hero.
I’ve been searching for Bort for more than a week and have so far managed to avoid infection, but the attacks are relentless. I haven’t had more than an hour’s sleep at a time since I arrived, as it appears that the infected sleep at random, and only for a few minutes. Strangely enough, that is also what has kept me alive. There hasn’t been a single chase where the infected hadn’t collapsed to the ground to take a nap mid-sprint. Needless to say, there aren’t many of those infected without severely skinned knees. I predict that the infected will eventually die of infection.
Nearing the end my ninth day, as the sun disappeared beyond the horizon, I was walking along the tracks of the abandoned rail yard when I heard a series of strange noises. At first it sounded like faint tapping, followed by an eerie gnawing sound, like a rat trying to chomp through metal. It was then that I heard it: the voice of a boy. He was calling for help, but his voice was tired and weak like he’d been screaming for days.
I immediately followed the voice inside one of the large steel containers when I came across a tall wooden crate that glowed from the inside. This had to be it.
“Bort?” I said in apprehension, afraid that it was trick, that within the crate I’d find a swarm of Erickoey-infected monstrosities. However, the boy replied.
“Who are YOU!?” he cried out in dismay. “Get me out of here right this instant!”
As luck would have it, I had remembered to bring my miniature crowbar and quickly went to work on the boy’s crate. The nails were thick and incredibly stubborn. Whoever decided to seal this poor boy in a crate using helix nails is one evil soul indeed. It took ages to pry off the top of Bort’s prison, but after fifteen minutes of calculated wiggles and my own brute strength, I managed to get it off.
Little did I know that the ruckus I had created with all the friction, had drawn the attention of nearly a dozen of the infected. Peering down into the crate at Bort I saw a weak and innocent child. He was filthy and reeked of sweat and other unpleasant odours, and for a moment I considered resealing the crate, and I think I would have done it too, if it wasn’t for those pesky infected!
They rushed into the container quicker than I could even blink, and before I know it we were surrounded. In that time, Bort had climbed out of the crate and stood behind me, cradling my leg in fear… or so I thought. Out of nowhere, my weight was thrust forward, and I toppled head-over-heels into the infected attackers, giving way to an escape!
Bort jumped over my still-dazed and confused self and disappeared outside the container, leaving me to fend for myself… surrounded by an egg carton’s worth of Erickoey fiends. But you won’t believe what happened next…
To be continued.