The Next Morning

I woke at 6:30AM, just as dawn was reaching up over the horizon with her rose-red fingers.I had made it to my house uneventfully the night before. The city had seemed the same as it always had. Or was it? Were the patrols just a bit more hurried and nervous? Were there more dogs barking? Or less? It had all blurred overnight, mostly due to my stress over merely getting to my house without being spotted by the police patrols. As I sat up in bed, I thought about the events of the previous night, trying to parse it all. Certain things kept coming back to me. Mostly the dead man, and the helicopter. Two of the strangest things I had seen in a very long time; dead men walking, and the fall of a government chopper. Were the two connected? I had no idea, but I could likely find out. One of the best things about living in a slum in a police state, is that there is always a thriving underground business on both news and goods. There was no way that Xeno and I were the only ones to witness the helicopter's demise, and it was a near certainty that all the details would be in that day's Freedom Rag, the closest thing to a free press we still had. However, the dead man walking, was an interesting story, albeit one that wasn't terribly believable. I could certainly bring it forth to try to sell, but as it simply sounded too fantastic to be true, I doubted its worth. I got dressed, and headed out to the streets.
A friend of mine helped write for the Rag, and he was my contact  for my daily issues. I tracked him down on a street corner, and slipped him some of the photographs I had taken the night before. Ralf was an amateur astronomer, but was in no physical shape to go hunting dark places in the middle of nowhere. We had a little agreement running, he would keep me up to date with a steady supply of political information in return for a daily Rag, which he now handed over, wrapped around a hot dog. You can never be too careful. I nodded to him, and went on my way. The city seemed normal for this time of day, that is to say, empty. Most people didn't emerge from the broken woodwork where they lived until often 9AM at the earliest, giving me the closest I could get to peace and quiet as I read the latest Rag.
What I read scared me.
It scared me so much, I jumped up and ran back to Ralf, still on the same corner with his hot dog cart, whereupon I asked him how accurate the information was, and the response to which was a look of mild disapproval at my outburst, along with a quiet assurance that everything was completely accurate, and in most places transcribed from military radio transmissions.
The Rag looked exactly as I had expected it to; the helicopter crash was the main story, and there were no stories about dead men walking. But one detail about the helicopter stood out, making everything I had been through suddenly come rushing back, along with a certainty that I had not been seeing things the previous night. The helicopter had been dispatched to help a patrol reporting an attack in the forest; most of the patrol had been killed, and one member got away with minor injuries, and was picked up by the helicopter, which then began attacking the people which had attacked the patrol. I could only assume that this is what I had witnessed, when the dead man was slain. However, a few minutes later, radio transmissions had shown the wounded patrolman acting strangely. A minute later there was a single scream, and crunching noise, and the chopper lost control immediately afterwards.
The Rag fell from my limp hands. I went up to Ralf and told him I had a story.

Note: People reading this, comment! Let me know how I'm doing! Do you like the style? Should I use actual dialogue instead of these passive descriptions of conversations? What do you want to see more of?

The first night, part 3

Suddenly, Xeno grabbed my arm, and pointed silently into the forest. Peering into the shadows, I could make out movement. There were no shapes, just what appeared to be a giant amorphous shadow, moving towards us. It took us about a quarter of a second to decide to run in the opposite direction, and we did just that, heading uphill back towards the tower. Glancing back, I saw three people stumble out of the woods, almost falling, as if they had tripped on a root or stone. But they kept stumbling, almost unable to walk, and from what little light there was, I could see the white of bone gleaming through their legs in places. We stopped at the base of the tower, and looked down the hill at the three beings. One finally fell over, it's foot caught in a gopher hole, and immediately the other two were upon it. They tore the flesh and limbs from its body with a horrific sound that we could heat almost a thousand feet away, listening to the pop of every tendon, the snap of every bone, as the creatures feasted on what had once been their companion. We knew we had to get out of the area, back towards the city, if only to find what was going on. The creatures hadn't shown special interest in us yet, but it wouldn't surprise me if this was because they had not yet noticed us. Military helicopters didn't needlessly shoot random people, nor was it common for them to crash and explode. The city also had yet to replace the air support, and had not launched another chopper to replace the one it had lost, which was unheard of. Ever since the events of three years previously, no citizen had been allowed to live without a helicopter flying within earshot, constantly, as a reminder. If something was keeping the air fleet grounded then something bad was afoot, very bad.

It was fortunate that the best route back to the city was on the far side of the clearing from the creatures, allowing our hasty return without disturbing them. Although on our guard the entire way back, and holding hastily harvested branches as a makeshift defense, we saw and heard nothing out of the ordinary. If anything, there was a lack of things to hear and see. The night seemed quieter than most, as if the insects were all staying silent, out of fear of what was coming.

We came up behind the abandoned industrial sector of the city, and snuck through an old drainage pipe, neatly bypassing the razor fence. Carefully making our way back to the inhabited areas, we got the distinct feeling that something was out of place, but we couldn't quite tell what.We agreed to return to our homes and sleep, and would meet later the next day to discuss what we had seen...

The first night, part 2

Neither of us paid much attention to this, assuming it was the wind whistling through the trees. We quietly congratulated each other, acutely aware of the fact that if a helicopter on patrol were to stop us, we would be gunned down before we had an chance to explain. That was the risk one took, going into the restricted zones outside of the urban area. But it was worth it. It was always worth it. Identical, timeless gray concrete structures stretching on for miles. No variety. No colors anymore. For true beauty, one had to leave, to see the relics of what once were. It also provided a breath of fresh air, both figuratively and literally. Maintenance teams had spent days installing what we were told were industrial-strength air fresheners throughout the city, we were told they would neutralize odors and make life more pleasant. Of course, rumors were going around that they were going to use them to gas the population, with some agent to make us more docile, in the wake of the recent riots. I'm not sure how much stock I put in that, but some teenagers broke one open a few days ago, and hadn't been seen since...

At any rate, the city wasn't the best place to spend time. For those who knew how, escape into the forest was a viable and wonderful opt-
MWAAAGRAHHAHYAGRAH!
The moaning came again, but this time it wasn't the trees. Xeno and I exchanged a glance, and rolled off the water tower's top bulb, landing and crouching silently on the walkway below. The light was dim, but we could see a lone figure stumbling across the clearing, hunched over. "He's gonna get us caught", I hissed at Xeno. Before he could reply, a helicopter rose over the treeline. A spotlight flashed on the figure for an split second, followed by a popping noise. The figure fell down, and didn't get up. The spotlight didn't come on again, and the helicopter flew off in the direction of the city.

Xeno and I crouched for what felt like hours, not daring to move. Finally, after some whispers, we agreed to go check on the shooting victim. Xeno reached for a nearby girder, and clambered downward, followed closely by myself. When we were halfway down, there was a flash of light far to the northeast, followed a few seconds later by a roaring sound, and then silence. Total silence. At that moment, for the first time in three years, we could not hear the whirling blades of a helicopter in the distance. We exchanged a glance, and continued our descent. Once on the ground, we moved low and quickly, moving to the fallen person. Xeno, twenty feet ahead of me, reached the person first, and let out a yelp of surprise. Normally a model of impeccable discipline, I knew it must have been something big to break his stoic outlook. Then I saw the corpse. The bullet had gone straight through the skull, and there was no chance of his survival. But the rest of the corpse...it did not look like that of a man who had been dead for hours, but rather, weeks. Some of his limbs were so decomposed as to expose the bone underneath.

A chill ran up my spine, as I heard another low moaning, far away, and could feel that no wind was blowing...

The first night, part 1

It was a dark night, one summer long ago. There was heat lightning rumbling in the distance, as Xeno and I slowly made our way towards the top of an abandoned water tower. The air was still, and the trees around us barely rustled as we made our way higher, clambering from one rusty pipe to the next. As we neared the top, we congratulated each other, as we had been hard-pressed to find interesting places to explore amid the latest government crackdown. The water tower had been lost to history, and nothing of any importance was nearby, so nobody cared. Now that we were high enough, we could see one solitary light, burning in the forest far to the east, but we decided that whoever it was was almost certainly unaware of out presence.

After a few more minutes of solid effort, we clambered over the edge of the curved, flaking bulb that was the top of the tower. Surveying our surroundings, we looked upon the beautiful Michigan night, surrounded by the trees and the silence. But then, out of the south, there came a rustle, and a low moaning...