Chapter 3-February 11th
As Steve awoke a lone shadowy figure quickly escaped from the foot of his bed. “Imagination.” He thought as he hauled himself out of the single bed and towards a study desk. He chose a clean page and a pen. “A to do list should help me stay calm.” Wiping the sweat from his forehead, Steve began writing:
Understand and control 'powers'
Find Father at the local banking house
Find Mother at Timber House Working Industry
Steve drifted off as his brothers could be anywhere. He might never see them again. “Stay positive” Steve whispered to himself, nothing was clear to him any more. A nuclear bomb had either irradiated or killed most life on Earth. Yet, he survived. “Shake it off Steve. Focus” A voice whispered to him, or was it in his head
He folded the letter and slipped it into his back pocket, collected his thoughts and stepped out of the bedroom, down the stairs. There lay the carcass of the mutated rat, it seemed something had skinned it, blood left a trail leading outside. Instincts told him to follow it. Searing pain told him to stop abusing the change in his DNA, so he picked three knives from the kitchen drawer. A tin of canned peaches also took his fancy. He packed the knives into his belt buckle and put the tin into his rucksack. Then, with a deep breath, Steve stepped out into the harsh reality of a destroyed world.
The stench was overpowering. Burning flesh mixed with thousands of dirty, disgusting, poisonous liquids. Steve nearly vomited but managed to swallow it back down. He took his first steps and managed to avoid the large acid pool to his right. A rib cage sat in the middle of it, almost bathing in it. Adjusting his eyes to the sunlight above, Steve focused on the bloody footprints, unable to tell whether they were human or not, which they carried on for the next few miles. A small, yellow, push bike was leant on the side of the house he had slept in. “It's about survival now, morals are out the window” He grabbed the bike and pedalled off towards the neighbouring town.
Along the way, corpses lined the road as if someone had been searching them yet it looked respectful. Most were still fully dressed, more than that, their clothes had been straightened, tucked in. Steve tried to ignore it but he must of passed hundreds of bodies. It had mostly been an uphill journey so his legs weren't prepared for the physical output, not after the fitness pill had been brought out. Finally, The town was only 300 metres away before he was stopped by a fallen tree. Bodies on either side of him, no way out. He would have to move the bodies. They were heavy and Steve struggled to move them with class. He ended up just shoving the bodies to one side. As he started to ride again on his bike, he could feel the liquids on his hands. Stinging. Burning. Only on his right hand though; his left just absorbed it, used it, enjoyed it. In front of him stood a large warehouse, renovated to accommodate homeless people. Rehab. Steve had heard of places like this, but he couldn't of imagined the feeble state of the insides. Around one hundred beds and then one separate room. The room was used to hand out mood drugs. They can change the users feelings in any direction. A small patch that you put on your palm. “Well you can't cure addiction without more drugs” Steve chuckled to his self. In fact, it was the first time he had laughed since the accident. Another voice laughed as well, just a snigger, quiet. Silence. Slam. The back door of the hut was shut. Steve ran towards the door and threw it open to a empty wasteland. He stepped back inside as the door shut itself.
Steve shuffled some beds across and created a space for himself. From his back pocket he pulled out the sheet of paper. Practice. Steve focused. He focused for 2 minutes, 5 minutes. What was happening? Nothing. What was different? “Adrenaline” Shouted Steve as it echoed round the empty shack. He wasn't in grave danger anymore. Before, Steve feared for his life, now, he was safe. As safe as he could be in this world. It looked like he could only practice while he stared death in the face. “Looks like number one was a failure” Steve said as he crossed out the first item on his check list. “Now to find my father, hopefully I'll be more successful with this mission” As Steve walked out the door a large object swung at him, he only had time to blink before his face hit the floor.
Several hours later, Steve had been moved back into the building, for protection. He was laid in a pool of blood and a bright green liquid. He lifted his head and groaned. Upon sliding his hand back to his head, he could feel a new texture, not skin. Similar to his left arm. It seemed without his new DNA he would of died of blood loss. Now, it could grow over his body. He was becoming stronger, more beastly. A large, apparent vain ran from the back of his left middle finger to the back of his neck. One, long, green vain. It seemed that whenever Steve sustained an injury, his body would repair itself almost instantly. Steve thought to himself, that in the end, this thing would take over him, and for the first time, Steve was scared.