The Sun scorched the earth's land blinded in its blight. At a glance, the road seared with light forms hitting, and radiates the surface like a pan cake cooking vessel gissiling before dissolving into a bitter evaporated clump of wasteland. This in an actuality course turns just a time killer for the real land, wasted and not gleaming of a single rainfall for a glorious chance in a severe tirade. Though, the wheat fields glazed lightly through the winds. It did not matter. But did for those not rooted on the soils so giving and fruitful.
A silhouette in the distance of the asphalt road began to take shape, the blurriness shifting harder to see. Unsurprisingly, he has been walking about an hour or so. No water. No help. No turned. Especially no sign of people nearby. John is in the middle of a road surrounded by fields of wheat crops, and wasted in the sun's blight of an extremist heat wave.
To counter the heat, John took off his suit, and used it as a form of hoodie to cover his head from the sun. The more he looked at it; the more he sweated. Currently, he keeps on walking wherever he's instinct leads him.
It isn't much but it'll do for now. Regardless, John's breath becomes heavy and hot. The small breeze that blew into his face couldn't even keep him cool. His posture mimicking that of an old lady.
'Wish I could get a drink right about now,' he thinks in thought.
Taking one step at a time; Taking every single breath; every single thing he does only bathes himself in all this no good foreshaken sun, and the road stretches, makes for a chance for his life.
Again, the wind in his face rushed at him. This time seeping into the fabric. It whistles. It tells wind of his unaccomplishment: he is unright bad - he should die, die, and die.
His eyes took no further to confuse him as well. Seeing things out of his own thoughts. Hallucinations. The deepest parts.
It got even worse. He heard certain noises coming from his back. He thought he might have a hearing disability. Fortunately when he turned, he stared, and for just a second, an opportunity blossomed.
Vvvvrrrrrrrr
The heat of tires vibrations caused John to snap.
Some faraway distance behind John, the form of a silhouette body blurred as it was on the road. It is uncertain.
But John sensd it quicker. He knew it.
The silhouette then shaped into a sleek bodily exterior and it's legs, on all four, rolled on the road with an extent of a rough humming sound, with the the wind on it's side, the silhouette zoomed past distances.
Right as John noticed the silhouette, it had already bypassed him. In a blitz second, the rushing wind that came along with the silhouette - now a car - drove past him.
John wanted to wave a hand at least, unregretfully, he didn't get his match, but it couldn't be the end.
Maybe there was another car on the way.
He was right.
When he got himself turned on and active; finally gawning an attention span, he set himself to a point to call out for help. Though, he wished he could do so if it weren't for his own difficulties.
At a distance, another car zoomed in again. John held one hand with a thumbs up, while still walking as he hoped for anyone to stop by. Yet, there weren't. The second did not even pay any attention. John wanted to be heard. At the last second, before the last car almost passed him he leaped into the road waving both arms in an effort to stop the car, and while also not trying to get him ramped over.
While he's effort were entripid, he wasn't successful, which the car sided only to escape from John at some speed. It was maybe due to John resembling a turned, or he couldn't yell, that the car saw him as a threat to which it diverted mid range.
'Useless. Why'd I try?'
~~~~~~
Just as before, John faced his fierce unrelenting enemy - the sun. Again, again, and again. Although, he was literally dehydrated, he kept his mind fixed and stable. It is tiring; the endless walk circle, just doesn't seem to end. John's mouth is dry. Tasteless. He could only gulp down his own saliva at a moments notice, really craving liquids, any that would do, to clump up the unsettling thirst.
When he's lucky was soon to run out, he's eyes spotted something at the distance. Something familiar. When he squinted his pupils, blinking once, twice, he then realised what it was. It was what just previously experienced. And should it be a what he's mind envisioned, he would be glad. Greatly.
So without further do, John fled the scene where he stood and immediately rushed over to the car that was parked on the side of the wheat of crops. Same crops he was in that are never-ending, constantly sprawling into the horizon. Wherever it may lead is unknown.
Like a pro, he tackled his enthusiasm with gratifying excitement. But because he was really much bathed in the hot scorching sun, he expressed a certain deep level to survive.
Despite he's endeavour, he's stamina gradually depleted. It became rather troublesome for him.
When he reached the vehicle, the same vehicle that left him on the road ignored was at the scene, and he put one hand on the back rear part of the body frame panting, breathing in and out for air.
It was as if a piece of cloth was over his head, suffocating him, drenching him in water, and brimming to grasp the air.
'Breath in, in.'
Shortly afterwards, he's senses appeared to reverse in effect as he gained little strength he had and stepped, little by little, to the car.
Confound by he's findings, when John looked up, he saw that the front door was open, unnoticeable.
The vehicle, a compact type, is a neat design. Brand name: Toyota; is coupled with a set of features that belongs to a family to similar traits, the vehicle is meant to be flexible and enough to use for the person incharge minimal instead of a big vehicle. At the front, it has a sharp curve from the engine to the room and the grey paint suits well. It is a hatchback. Four door. And multiple functional. But the question that is asked, where is the driver.
John got inside the car. Wherever he looked. Nothing. Even the exterior, there wasn't anyone one. Something didn't feel right.
But something didn't also fit. That is John's thirst.
Quickly did John stick around and roughly go through all of the nooks and cranny, under the seats he searched, the front windscreen, all the way to the backseat. Feeling disappointed, he then realised what he missed in one of the case like shelve hid the item. When he grabbed it, he was so happy he nearly gave up.
Finally, John went back and out of the car, holding with him on two hands, two water bottles that weren't used. The water bottles were still cool and cleanly fresh. This he drank right away, fully draining the whole contents within seconds. The same couldn't be said for the next bottle which he drank, but this time, slowly into he's mouth, leisurely enjoying it.
John's eyes seemed as they were about to burst into tears. Water is here. The two water bottles hit the spot. Until he drank it all, he gave a big lengthy huh sound. This meant to signify he was filled; to finally quench the overwhelming pressure from the heat, and the undying dehydration.
He rested as he seated on the front of the car - the front headlights.
John thought for a second. He needed time to think. Should he be alive. Beside the deaths, he can't stop thinking about that scene: People dying as he is making he's escape, and the horror of people calling for help, it is right down bone chilling.
But through all that, why doesn't he feel sorry. Why is he not traumatised? Is it right? Is it just inhumane to leave those people behind? Why isn't he so accepting of reality?
This questions enveloped his mind, troubling him to make a choice. Memories from the past even flash before him.
It really is uncanny. John was.
~~~~~~
While he thought, the day was still young and bright. Almost everything around laid in utter calmness. The fields flowing in unison with the wind; the flat-plain road heating from the bright sky; and the air in the atmosphere reeking no rotten matter.
Everything just felt like a relief of depression vanished out of thin air, and was instead replaced by nothing more than life.
The life that is around and alive. The life that is not taken, but instead enjoyed. Enjoyed. From land, sea, and the sky. Life that is far from the rotting city, where it spreads where it wants and not artificially tied where it mustn't.
Although, it is uncertain to hear such life where John is as of now. It is still felt and seen; this are it's foundation that makes it up.
Whether it be the weather, the clouds, the humidity, the pressure, or even light itself, it shows how much that life exists. And that it should be enjoyed.
And sooner or later, more years to follow, that time would become obsolete. Nothing more than a foul myth. So it goes without saying, that as of now, John is breathing in this familiar scenery. A keep sake for another time.
~~~~~~
Right as of now in John's head after five minutes passed, he's mind becomes an absolute blank canvas. He's thoughts almost adhere relevant.
'What to do?'
'Never mind.'
Just when the contemplation period ended, John shook it off - the feeling of regret. He needed to think more positively, an adjustment that is to be done right about this instance. The more the better the survival rate. He's head protruding to the sky giving one final gasp.
Now what was John's next move going to be when he stood high on his legs, just beside the front of the car where he previously rested.
He's neck turned left and right. He saw the road ahead, and laid his eyes back on the car, staring predetermined once again, comparing him against the journey.
'If I were to walk a mile I'm sure I'd make it, but what about this car. Chances are that I can use this car, right.'
'What about the owner?'
'If I do wait, what are the outcome that the do person arrive. I'll just have to do with what I've got. No risks involved.'
The other side of the car's door, John clicked the door handle and pulled it open, quickly sliding it until it reached the end. Wide it was. It fitted John nicely as he swooped right on the front seat. The surface and resting deck suitable. It is quite the comfort. All that's left are the keys.
'Where are the keys?'
Unfortunately, when John's hand reached for the key ignition chamber, he touched just the bare surface - the opening without the metal. He's eyes glitched suddenly.
Usually, the keys are left on the ignition chamber. Frustrating as it is, John searched the inside of the car again. This time for the car keys.
Nothing. There was nothing.
~~~~~~
The fields are as long as ever visible to see and also very much blinding because of how tall they are. Or are this another crop field instead. Like it or not, the path John took unintentionally led him straight into corn territory far away from the common crops he was used to being around.
He maneuvered through the endless tall corn stems that came he's way while he walked in a straight line. But was he really following the exact footprints.
Previously, John knew of the driver's incident. Well not exactly. He knew this because a trail of obstructed vegetation was opposite to the driver's door.
When he did inspect that small area, he found footprints. Footprints the same caliber of that of a male human.
It would suggest the driver was in a quick hurry.
The driver probably had something that he wanted to flee right from the safety of his own vehicle.
Multiple guesses pop up: 1. The tires popped, 2. The driver got previously bitten, 3. The fuel gauge fell too low, or just maybe maybe, 4. He needed to take a dump A.S.A.P.
And one point checked out from the the rest. Number four.
For the rest of the scenarios proven false, the tires weren't at all damaged, the fuel gauge is only at mid level, and if the person was bitten why go to all places in the fields. It would be safe to stay in the car as it is the only safe place around this road, which is temporary for the time. But it is honestly the most visible option and what a normal sane person would think off, instead of running off into the fields without a single thought in mind.
'Honestly the whole thing sounds ridiculous. Why even carry the keys.'
Promptly thinking in thought, John realised what he just said. It's because of people like him who would try to steal.
'Why did I say that?'
Caught in a contradictory self explanatory situation,John is awestruck stomped idling around in either a stupid and messed up situation.
Although he doesn't hide it, the truth of he's nature is becoming a rather predicament force of reality.
But it wouldn't be just him. Such people like him, deep inside, hide a more sinister monster; Relinquish it, and they'll be free to do as they please.
It can be.
Can it?
Just then as John was in his tracks he suddenly came across a faint pigment struck to the surface of one of the corn stem leaves. When John had a feel for it, it seemed too dry to decipher.
In spite of that, he briskly; unfathomably understood.
It was blood.
Although, not in large amounts, a dwadle chain link of blood droplets lingered, seemingly followed on a series of corns.
John didn't want to make assumptions but instead he dashed on his way keeping track of the trail of the dripping blood.
He's legs moving on their own accord as if it were possessed by spirits, one leg at a time, it launched and carried him at a very fast phase and along the road, he's eyes whose focus changed motive mid search - shaped his tone of expression from calm to an exact replica of seriousness.
So why was he in such a hurry?
Wasn't he not the one who did not care when the life of others were put on the line?
Then why is it all of a sudden he is fanning thoroughly through the fields, in his absence of regret, trying weirdly enough to accommodate some form of enticing apology.
Yet, uncertain, the peak of being helpless reminded him of something similar. A memory perhaps.
Whatever the background story do tell, John just went with the flow inside, his heart beating as fast as a racing car speeding against time.
When the last leaves of corn shielding the field of his vision was removed - both hands burst at the same time clearing the obstacle.
The scene he expected to meet friendily, turned shockingly upside down.
In it's place was the inhumane embodiment of fear and death which will come to terrorize millions more. The turned.
There just metres between these two figures: John and, the turned who so casually kneeled, were the extraments of the remains of what looked to be a male corpse.
John could only watch in a quiet level of volume as not to attract the turned as it to chomped down the disfigured corpse being torn time and time again into bits of flesh, bone, guts, and meat chunks.
Middle of the chest is even profusely centered on cannibalism while the rib cage outspreads revealing bone fragments jutting out and still attacted to strings of meaty samples.
Munch
Munch
Chomp
Gnaw
The mindless turned fully entertainment in the corpse, abundantly continued, sinking it's own teeth into the very flesh gobbling as went on to push down the throat.
As if John was frozen into a block of ice, he could not vouch any movement at all. He's eyes glued to only the bloody terror. The face of the corpse vividly leer into John's innocent soul through the pupils.
He is freakishly shaken.
An attempt to veer from here absent would escalate things. Should he, at first, take a unanticipated detour the turned will follow him. But could he foil the rate of running.
Slowly, John backed up his distance closely monitoring the turned.
Without knowledge, the sound of a twig split into two - crack! - landed right on one of John's shoe.
The cause of such a small noise accumulated the attention of the turned. It's head raised up. The turned still kneeling looking directly at John like a hungry man eating machine.
Hhhhhrrrrrrgggrghhhh!!!!!
The voice of the turned at that moment hyped up ominously, the screaming resembling that of screeching door.
'Damn it.'
~~~~~~
Like nothing happened out of the blue, John desperately rushed out of the fields, running away if he was either followed or not.
Now able, and free after running for a few seconds half-heartedly, the guy could catch a break for the meantime.
But to make matters worse after setting foot on the road again, he was shocked to find out that the road suddenly became infested with more of these turned creeps, freely roaming the area.
The car on the other hand was far from reach. The way it was faced got filled up with more turned. Even though he could use the fields for cover will he be safe. Highly unlikely, if he wants to join death after avoiding it thrice.
'Not good.'
When John was not looking a turned rapidly moved a fast one on him. Luckily he slipped past it, avoiding a treacherous infection.
'I'll just have to run.'
John didn't have the keys. He's last option is to run. Just run. Besides, he knows he can do it. Running a full mile.
Without letting another single turned attack him, he sprinted towards the road he was following.
The road may be tough, but he is way tougher than he looks.
The end of Chapter 3: Footless Walk