"PC Battery Low, powering down." Those dreaded words appered on screen, cutting of all source of music from Tommy's earphones, seemingly darkening the world. "FUCK!" Tommy thought, getting up and frantically searching for the charger. The room was dark, and Tommy lked it that way, he lied sitting alone in the dark, with nothing but the sound of guitar solos and thunderous drumming blasting in his ears. It helped him think,helped him remember and at the same time, to forget. The dark and the music combined, it made him feel alive. Stumbling across the room, Tommy finally finds the charger and plugs it into the laptop. For a few moments nothing happens then the light blinks on and the laptop starts up again. Immediatley, Tomy puts his headphones in and starts blaring Pantera's "Cowboys From Hell" Album. He closes his eyes and lies back, taking in the music, and shutting out the rest of the world.
The next thing he knew, light was beaming through the sides of the curtains. He got up and peered outside, grimacing as the light temperally blinded him. His eyes adjusted and his eyes widen. "How the fuck did they find me? They weren't there last night where they?" Tommy thought back to the previous night. "No, they were definatley not out there last night, SHIT!"
He quickly packs up his things; laptop, charger, few bottles of beer and some food he found in the fridge and a small generator. He runs down to the garage and finds a 1969 Mustang. It was rusty, old, the seats were shredded and the inside stunk of fertilizer, but it was a mustang, and like hell was Tommy going to leave it behind, no matter how much of a fixxer-upper it was. He packs his stuff into the back of the mustang, and jumps in. The smell was strong and Tommy gagged, but managed not to throw up. He searched everywhere in the car for the keys but couldn't find them. In a fit of sheer annoyance that the fact that he was sitting in his dream car, but with no keys he punches the steering wheel and the horn blares. "Oh shit, no. NO, NO, NO NO, WHY THE FUCK DID I HAVE TO DO THAT?!" Tommy yelled and cursed at himself when he heard them, scratching at the garage door. Tommy got out the car and went to the boot when he noticed the keys on a workbench, next to the switch for the garage door. Just then, there was a smash coming from the other room. Tommy froze. He heard them, 3, no, 4 of them, walking around. "BANG!" "BANG!" "BANG!" One of them starts banging on the door, trying to get through. "Tommy snaps out of his brief frozen state and grabs the keys, and rushes back to the car. He turns the key and nothing happens. Again and again he tries, but the car won't start. On the 16th or so try the Mustang splutters into life and Tommy laughs with relief. He opens the garage door and races forward, running into them as he speeds of down the driveway and out onto the street.
Tommy starts laughing and looks about the car and notices an old sterio CD, he turns it on and immediatly regrets it. The sterio crackles on to some wannabe preacher rambling on about how the world was going to end and how we have doomed ourselves to a life of etertnal suffering of the highest order. "Shut up, you daft goat," Tommy thought, turning of the sterio as he turned onto the high street. Tommy opened the glove compartment and found an old box of cigerettes.He took one and lit it up when something caught the corner of his eye. "Was that? Nah it couldn't have been, Could it?" He whispered to himself. Slowly he drove to the store and parked up, he had to make sure. He got out and caustiously walked in. It was eerie and empty, but everything was now a days so that didn't bother him, what bothered him was the person standing at the end of the aisle, watching him.