Last Entry

Last Entry

The once busy streets now stood empty. Papers and trash moved around the streets with each breeze. The sounds of kids laughter, people talking and the occasional dog barking replaced with silence. Tom stood just outside of Ashley's Bakery Shop. The trees that were planted just a few years ago now dead, broken, or gone. All the flowers Ashley planted at the base of the trees, adding a little of her own style, now just a memory. Tom scanned the streets looking for any sign of movement. Any sign of being watched or followed. He had an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach he could not shake. He looked again, straining to pierce the dark shadows in an effort to find the source of the feeling.

He slowly slide backwards towards Ashley’s shop. His eyes never turning away from the street. Only pausing when his backpack brushed against the door. His eyes briefly checked for his card he left in the door.It’s still there. Tom thought as his eyes returned to the streets. No one has been here? He questioned if this could be real. The more Tom looked around the more things looked the same, as best he could remember. It did not matter how hard he strained, he could not see anything. Fishing a key out of his pocket, he slide it into the lock, turned and quickly slipped into the shop, closing and turning the dead bolt behind him.

The electronic chime sounded, indicating someone had entered the shop. From behind the counter a voice called out, “Welcome in.” Tom spun around seeing Ashley. Her long hair, pulled back in a pony tail. Her smile was the only thing that could make Tom feel welcomed and comfortable even on his worst days. The shop was exactly as he had remembered it the last time he was there before everything happened. The smell of breads, cookies, and muffins filled the air. The warmth of the shop was welcoming verses the bitter cold outside. The tables were filled with patrons, most he recognized as regulars. Some were chatting, others on their phones scrolling the latest events. One was actually reading book. “Hello Tom.” Ashley handed a cup and small bag to the woman at the counter. “Here you go. Have a great day.” All his pain and worries evaporated hearing her say that every morning. She paused for a second allowing the woman to move away from the counter. “The usual?” She asked while smiling at Tom. He stood there taking in her beauty. Every time he saw her his mind raced with thoughts of when or if he should ask her out. Was her smile just a smile that she gave all her customers, or was it special just for him. Just a smile she gives to all her customers.

As the deadbolt engaged with a solid thud the true state of the shop came into focus. A thick layer of dust covered everything in the shop. Overturned tables, broken chairs, glass covered the floor. The refreshing scent of fresh baked goods replaced with stale musty air. The only upright table was in the back corner with the only intact chair sitting behind it waiting for him. Like everything else, the table and chair are covered with dust, noticeable less than the other items that are in the shop.

Tom’s brain flipped between the pleasant memories and the grim reality with each blink. Still, the shop is in much better shape than most of the places he has come across. The warm pleasant view was rapidly being replaced by the reality. Finally all that was left is the dusty, moldy reality.

Tom took a seat at the table after making sure the back of the shop is secured. A ghostly, semi transparent figure of Ashley appears coming to Tom’s table. Across the room a few people were sitting at tables focused on their little worlds. If only they know what was going to happen in the next few.” Tom’s thoughts were interrupted as Ashley appeared from behind the counter holding a plate and glass. Her image flickered in and out along with the rest of the shop like an old television set trying to lock in to a distant channel. As the cup and plate was set on the table, she and the background faded out.

Tom took a deep breath, choking on the dust, and exhaled as hard as he could clearing off as much debris as he could. Well, that was smart. He thought before he could stop himself and his nose was assaulted by the dust he stired up. Tom pulled out a bottle that looked like it had been dropped, thrown, kicked, run over, dragged behind a car and set it on the table. He extracted a book, his journal that was worn. It’s appearance resembled a book that has been abused over a hundred years. Stains, burn marks, dryed blood on the cover. The edge of the pages looking even worse. He opened it, flipping through locating where he left off, then turned back a few pages and started reading. He added a few notes to the pages as he was reviewing them. He would stop and look up for a second and look around the shop.

He returned to reading and adding notes. Suddenly he stopped. Eyes snapped up focusing on the window. Outside he heard the sounds of foot steps on the sidewalk. Faint, but they were defiantly foot steps. They are getting closer. Shadows start appearing on the window. Tom watched their movements. There is something wrong with the way they are moving. They are not normal and not like the others. The shadows stopped at the door. Tom watched as the door knob slowly turned. It stopped after half a revolution. Did I lock the bolt? Dammit! How could I have forgotten to lock the door.

Just then, there was a movement. The figure on the other side pushed to open it. The door moved less than a millimeter before it stopped. I did lock it. He let out a sigh of relief. The door shook back and forth a couple times before the door knob returned back to its resting position. The bodies outside the window appeared to be trying to look inside the shop.

“What, you expecting.” one of figures from outside was speaking, then paused. Tom saw him take a step away from the door and appeared to look up. “Ashley’s Bakery to be open today with fresh bread? Where you expecting to walk in and order an egg sandwich? Blueberry muffin?” The curtains and windows had a thick build up dust. Preventing anyone from getting a clear view through the window into the shop.

“Well, you never know unless you try.” The other voice replied. “Besides, what did it hurt? Nothing! Absolutely NOTHING!”

Tom had to remain motionless to prevent drawing attention to himself. They may not have a clear view inside the shop, but they can see shadows and movement. This was not the first time he had to hide in plain site. Once he had to reain motionless for almost an entire day preventinh them from seeing him. The figures outside seemed to look around at the other buildings. They are talking to each other? This was not typical actions once they change. Tom could see the two figures look down the street in the direction they came from. He could hear them whispering, but not able to make out what they were saying. The door shook again, violently for a second, before the two took off running down the street.

A few seconds later came the sounds that scared off the two figures. The sounds of foot steps.A dozen? Two? An army?Too many to count. They are getting louder and louder. The sound of doors crashing and glass breaking from nearby store fronts.

Tom rapidly flipped to the first blank page and started writing.

This will be my last entry. A large group of the changed are approaching. From the sounds it is largest group I have ever encountered.

For who ever finds this, this book contains all my notes and everything I have learned. And things that I have found to be false. It may help you get through what ever this will called. Guard it! Add to it, share it, and pass it along.

Good Luck!

Tom flipped to the last page and tore out a blank page. He looked at the window trying to figure out how much time he has left. More and more shadows approached. Most of them continue walking while the numbers looking in the windows and those that have been stuck at the door continues to grow. They were bumping into each other, the door and the wall. That door and those windows will not last much longer. He told himself. Tom began writing on thew blank sheet of paper.

Ashley, this is Tom. Corner table, bacon, egg, cheese sandwich with sweet tea. Not sure if you remember me. I always wanted to tell you that your smile is what I looked forward to each morning. No matter how I felt, the second I walked through the door all my issues melted away.

I always wanted to ask you out, but never found the courage. If we did go out and something bad happened, the thought of not being able to see you each morning was a risk I was not willing to take. Now I regret not taking the chance. It has been so long since I have seen you.

I came back every few months checking to see if you were here, if you returned, or saw and answered any of messages. I set up my normal table and spent the day waiting and hoping.

As I write this, the largest group I have ever seen is massing outside the shop. I feel this may be my last stand as I don’t see a way out of this. Facing what I suspect may be the end, and coming to terms that your fate may have been sealed long ago, I now find the courge to share how I feel. Even if a little late.

If these are my last breaths, I will have the memory of your smiling face embedded in my mind comforting me on my journey.

Tom folds the paper, sticks it in the middle of the journal with a small section sticking out, then places it on the shelf behind him.