The Wanderers by Permuted Press Page A

and took up his binoculars again. The street was also impassable, and one of the buildings had completely burned down to the foundation, but as far as he could see, there were no more abnormalities to be found.
    Maneuvering with the motor, he slowly moved towards the shore. There, he found a way to push to boat as far as he could until it was beached on the sand, next to a pile of white rocks that formed a tiny breakwater. Although he suspected that the motor did not have much gasoline left, he knew that it was his escape route in case of trouble. He crouched down so he would not be seen, and from there he looked around at what awaited him.
    It was a large space with green areas and young palm trees that had not yet reached their full height. As well as the usual disarray of wrecked vehicles, there were a great number of trucks overturned on the road. All of the ground floor shop windows had been shattered and forced open, and the merchandise, boxes in every shape and size, and even television sets and furniture, were scattered on the sidewalk. There were cadavers everywhere, and their skin had turned black due to the sun.
    He advanced slowly, without losing sight of the wandering zombies nearby. If he could get to at least one of the restaurants, maybe he could still find something to eat, even if it was just cereal or canned preserves.
    His advance through the street and the gardens, which were parched due to the lack of water and the sun, was uneventful. He passed between the vehicles, crouched and always vigilant. He finally arrived at the foot of the buildings and noticed the sign of one of the businesses, a restaurant belonging to the VIP chain. The double door entrance was closed and blocked by a heavy metal dumpster.
    Aranda looked around. It seemed to him that the specters, although distant, were coming nearer. He did not want to tempt his luck; he had to disappear from sight before they saw him entering the premises, or he was going to encounter a good party committee once he exited. He tried to calculate the weight of the container by briefly shaking it: it was indescribably heavy. He looked inside, and was surprised when he discovered that there were heavy pieces of rubble and bricks inside.
    With considerable effort, he managed to push the container to one side, enough to open one of the doors. While doing so, an indescribable stench hit his nostrils with the force of a hammer blow. He retreated a few steps, shaking his head and trying to contain the retching. By the time he could look into the interior again, it was already too late: a myriad of reddened eyes were looking at him, shrouded in the almost complete darkness of the store. They were specters. He understood only then that the container had not been intended to prevent access; it was to prevent them getting out.
    Aranda retreated even more. My God, there are so many of them... he thought, jumping from one gaze to another. There are so many, fuck, so many...
    Just when he thought about running away to be lost from sight before they recognized him as prey, the horde woke up. It was as if someone had thrown a switch; they all threw themselves forward, their pupilless eyes fixed on him. Emerging from darkness in the background, more heads began to appear, their arms raised with fingers longing for warm flesh.
    Aranda wanted to move, to get out of there, but he surprised himself taking cautious steps in one direction and another. That’s how they catch you, that’s how you end up turning into one of them . One of the specter’s legs gave out and it fell to the floor, then the hypnotic effect he seemed to have fallen under broke so evidently that he could almost hear the click . He began to run when they were already barely three meters away.
    Slipping down the grim slide of panic again, Aranda pushed his legs as fast as he could. He looked around, trying to find a direction, a place to hide. He knew that he could not run at that pace for more than a few