Husks

These stumbling, staring, drooling fucking husks are everywhere! Lately, whenever I go out all I see are those zombified people roaming in town, not a single normal person in sight. On top of this seemingly undead horde, it seems like we'd been cut off from the rest of the world; I hadn't seen any visitors in town for weeks, not that we have too many of them anyway. Thing is, we are mostly self sufficient around here, and when we need something we go out of town to get what ever it is we are in need of. We also had no success in reaching the authorities recently.

I think all of this began the day that Max Wilson had walked all over town begging people for water, screaming at those who refused him that they were part of a group called according to him, "The Lizards". At the time I thought that the old geezer had lost his mind, considering that he was carrying his hunting rifle with him. A few days later, he was apparently barely responsive although he was a rather healthy man relative to his age just days earlier. About two weeks after Max's paranoid outburst, he was found dead in his home, drowned in his own saliva.

A few weeks after Max's passing, one night as I was making my home from work I came across a young man; he was crouching on the side of the road, shivering like crazy. I approached him to check up on him. When I'd touched the guy, he turned to me and hissed like some wild animal, drool flying out of his mouth in my direction. He had this blank stare in his eyes, almost as if he was watching right through me. I didn't even have the time to react before the man straightened up and ran off into the darkness with a distinct limp to his gait. I dusted myself and continued walking home, assuming he was some junky who took something nasty that night.

The signs were written on the wall; whatever had killed Max started to spread like wildfire. In a matter of days after my encounter with the man on the side of the road numerous cases of trembling, blank-stared and drooling people started appearing throughout the town. We flew into a collective hysteria and imposed curfews and became awfully suspicious of each other. It seemed like we were facing a real zombie virus outbreak, except in reality zombies don't try to eat brains. They simply waste away after turning into a mindless husk after delirium strikes them as a result of an unquenchable thirst.

The town was overrun by this infection in a matter of days after the initial outbreak. The majority of the residents became infected through contact with other infected or their bodily fluids, most commonly, saliva. No one was safe, including my family. A few days ago, I woke up to the feeling of someone standing over me. I opened my eyes to begreeted by my wife and kids. My sweet Marissa jerked the children close to her as her eyes grew wide, making contact with mine. Dumbfounded, I asked what was wrong and she and the kids stepped back as she yelled out at me the name of the man who had abused her when she was a teenager. Shocked, I shot up out of bed and tried calming her down, but she had become more hysteric with each attempt I made to grasp her. I tried calming her down for what seemed like hours, but she only got more panicked eventually we filled the apartment with screams and children's crying. During my frustrated attempts at reaching my wife she took a step back for each movement I made towards her. She was trying to run away from me. She thought I was someone else, someone who'd hurt her. I was both hurt and confused by this notion in her head. Our argument became heated and I failed to see us entering the balcony, where she slipped over an empty bottle that was lying on the floor and knocked her head on the ledge. A sickening thud sound rang in my ears as she fell onto the floor, staining the ledge and floor beneath her with blood. Her death was quick, as shards of her skull most likely penetrated some of her brain matter killing her on the spot. At that moment everything died out around me, seeing my Marissa's limp body prone on the floor made me forget about the whole argument as I lunged towards her grabbing her body, crying at her to do something but Marissa didn't do anything her head just lolled as I shook her body. I refused to accept her death, I kept trying to shake her awake for hours after she had died, as both me and my kids cried and begged for her to wake up.

She never even budged.

Four days had passed since and the kids no longer respond to me or do anything for that matter, I came to accept the fact that I caused the death of my wife. I know I killed my wife. Whom ever brought this plague upon us make me kill my wife. The kids just sit in different corners of the house, occasionally giving me a glossed glance that reaffirms my belief that they were infected as well. I can't do shit for them now, they're goners. This thing will leave them dead in a pool of their own drool in a matter of days, just like the rest of the husks out there. These things don't have a long shelf life. I sporadically leave the apartment to avoid seeing what has become of my family; it's just too much at this point.

My inability to see the signs of my family's infection when they started excessively drinking water just proves my theory that someone must've poisoned this town to cause this zombie-like viral outbreak. Marissa's body wreaks of death now, but she still looks so god damn good!

Might as well show her some of my love, but first, I have to moisturize my throat a little; I've felt extremely thirsty for the last couple of hours.