I crouched down in the dark corner of the rundown barn. My stomach cramping, I had last eaten three days ago. I huddled knees tight against my chest. Inhabiting the smallest space I could. I imagined I was invisible. My bedraggled hair falling over my face a veil between me and the decaying world I now inhabited. My eyes wide behind the strands, straining to see any movement, any flickers in the shadows.
It was deathly quiet. They never made a sound, the wraiths, that rose from the bodies of the dead. This pandemic created a half-life, like the atoms we learnt about in school; decay, disintegration, transformation, when a wraith touched you that was your future.
I heard the sound of an engine. I slowly uncurled from my corner and crept toward the door. The vehicle came to a stop, it sounded as if it were just outside the barn. I sidled towards the opening. Peering through my hair I saw a group of four, three guys and one girl. I cautiously move closer reaching towards them. The girl turned and saw me.
Reaching out I whispered “Help! Can you help me?”
“Bobby, look”, she cried. One of the young men turned and saw me in the opening of the barn. He grabbed the girl and pulled her towards him.
“Sal, keep away, don’t let it touch you”, he yelled. “Move it’s a bloody wraith.”
They leapt into the car and took off wheels squealing.
Me, a wraith?
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