Colour Kill

Chapter 5

Chapter Five

A sweet chirp of a bird seeps into my ears waking me up. The sun shoots rays of orange down the leaves of the trees. A yawn escapes from my lips as I stretch my arms out, wincing I bring my arms down to massage my back as it throbs in pain. I lift one hand up to shield my sleepy eyes from the vibrant sun. Sweat drenches my forehead as I wince remembering the terrifying dream I had the night before. Like most nights one of my horrific dreams wakes me up and if it is possible it seems that they are even more bloody than usual
Then it hits me.
The events of the previous day make my stomach twist in a horrible mix of confusion and anger.

Whilst trying to push all thoughts into a box, I grab the gun that hangs on the branch next to me. I use one arm and my feet to load my self down onto the lower branches to get to the floor. With a thump, I fall onto the grass. Gun in hand I start to creep to the road making listening carefully for signs of the Alpharei guards. My eyes wander up and down the grey road, I place one foot on the road my other foot follows. Hunger starts to stir in my stomach so I walk down the road that seems flatter hoping to god that I find food and water.

I feel yesterdays thoughts fight back into my mind. I try to fix loose ends together but nothing fits. In frustration, I squeeze my eyes together and rub my temples in hope of calming down, but my body just heats up and sweat rolls down my back.

I've been walking for about two hours now and the inevitable pain of blisters makes me cringe whenever I take a step.

I peer up from my feet to look at the road.
A thin long line shooting up into the sky, in the distance, comes into my view. With each painful step it becomes clearer and more of these lines come into view. Walking faster now I try to make out what it is. the lines become thicker and clearer, they are skyscrapers.
It's New York. New York. Three years ago when I was a naïve fifteen-year-old my dream was to get away from my small town and controlling parents to escape to the busy world of New York, where things moved quickly and I didn't have to wait around for anyone. I could live to do things my way with no one telling to slow down. New York will never be how it used to be with its infestation of Wendigos, My heart starts to pick up, those wendigos won't hurt me I have no colour. No colour. The realisation plays in my head over and over again like a broken record.
Trying to ignore thoughts I bring my attention back to finding food and water I can make it to New York before nightfall if I pick up the pace. Pushing through the pain of my blisters.

There they stand in all their magnificent glory, the intense buildings welcome me into the city of New York. Sweet songs of joy sing through my body. I'm in New York! Even though everyone that once lived here has died or run away, I can still feel some of its magic in the air.
A noise on the other side of the road grabs my attention. A Wendigo has it's spear shaped teeth into a body, which is so mangled there is no way of possibly seeing who they once were. The Wendigo flashes it's scarring eyes at me, the blood from its victim dripping down its chin. The ghastly thing lets out a screech then turns back to its meal. I walk away with my stomach in a knot, not turning away from the Wendigo till I'm on a new road

The sun slowly descends down, reflecting the light off the glass plains of the skyscrapers. A sadness rocks through my body, New York was once the city that never slept, now it's the city that will stay buried under all the horrors of the new world in a sleep filled with nightmares. Wondering up and down the streets of New York, the emptiness in my stomach fills with the low rumble of hunger letting me know it's time to eat. I Lower my self onto a wooden benched outside an old news-stand. On the other side of the road, a pigeon flutters onto a bin. The longer I stare at it the loader my stomach rumbles. My mind says pigeon but my stomach growls dinner.

With as little movement as possible, I lift up my gun, letting it get comfortable in my hands. I close one eye and the other one looks through the viewfinder, using my legs I push myself off the bench, my finger curls around the trigger.
The pigeon instantly falls to the floor. My eyes widen in disbelief and excitement. Low laughs come from my mouth, I can't believe I just shot a bird! My tired legs hurry themselves across the silent road, I pick up the bird, Blood oozes out of it uncontrollably. Puffing my cheeks out and squeezing my whole face together I push the bullet out of the bird, the denseness of the blood sticks in my hands. I cringe as I push the bullet through the last layer of skin and feathers, the bullet makes clinking noises as it drops to the floor. Picking up the pigeon with one hand I wander over to a tree a few yards away, I take two slim branches and twigs from the tree then wander over to a red car I spotted before just down the road.
I place everything on top of the car. Now here comes the worst part, gutting the bird. The windows are smashed leaving a few shards of glass around. Crouching to my knees I rummage around for a shard of glass. I chose the sharpest one and place it next to all the other things I have collected then pick up the bird. Sliding down the side of the car bird in hand I sit up with my back pressed up against the car door. Slowly I start the pluck the bird one feather at a time.

Lacing my fingers together I stretch them out and roll my shoulders, releasing the pain of being hunch up for a while. I pick up the blade of the top of the car then sit back down. I put the sharpest part of the blade at the neck of the bird, pushing the blade in I squeeze my eyes and drag it down the lifeless body. Breathes escape heavily from my mouth as I turn my head away from the bird, I push in my hand and straight away I feel the taste of vomit scratch at the back of my mouth. The inside of the bird swims in through my fingers as I attempt to take a handful of its insides. I yank out my hand and fling the guts somewhere on the road after I clean my hand on my shirt. Grabbing the bird and the other things that lay onto of the car I walk behind the car.
I let myself fall to the ground with the bird beside me. Using the sticks and the leaves I start the two sticks the hope I will be able to light a fire, never having done this before It will take me ages to light a tiny spark considering if I even manage to light anything at all.

Softly I blow the tiny flame. An hour it's taken me to light this pathetic little fire. I blow on it one more time Then start to add leaves and twigs to it slowly.
The warmth of the fire makes my body tingle in satisfaction. Picking up the bird which I have stuck a stick through, I place it on the fire. Watching it my stomach roars in approval, the sun has set and the coldness of the night sends a seldom type of sinister silence through New York. An ominous sound echoes past the buildings, I snap my head around but in the complete darkness, it is impossible to see.

When the pigeon looks done, I pick it up from the fire. Closing my eyes I open my mouth wide and let my teeth sink into the soft flesh. The burnt flavour of the bird swirls around my tongue. It's not that bad. A smile forms on my lips as I continue to scoff down the bird.

Tiredness takes my body prisoner as I wipe my mouth with my jacket my mouth still smelling of pigeon. I heave myself off the floor to make my way over to the car. I open the door as a yawn escapes from my mouth. Letting myself fall into the back seats I look through the front window with one word bugging my mind. Alpharei. Questions torment my brain. Why am I colourless? Why have they been looking for me? And finally, why does my full name happen to be, Gaia Alpharei Jones?