Infinite Zombie Apocalypse

Elián woke up with an unsettling sensation crawling across his face. He slowly opened his eyes, but before fully doing so, a shiver ran through him as he felt something small and strange moving across his cheek.

A chill ran through his body, but not from fear, rather from the familiarity of the situation.

It was a cockroach...

Without changing position, he lifted his hand and swatted it away with a quick motion. The cockroach fell to the floor and disappeared under one of the rusted pots lying near his makeshift bed.

Although they didn't disgust him too much, it was still unpleasant to feel them crawling across his face.

"Ahhhmm!"

Elián let out a long yawn and stretched out on the old, worn-out bed, feeling the pain in his body, marked by the constant effort of surviving among the trash in the dump.

He sat up in bed, looking around with some drowsiness still in his eyes.

The house was small and claustrophobic, made of corroded metal walls, some bent by time and circumstance. The floor was covered with compacted earth, as hard as stone, with debris of all kinds scattered around: old pots, broken utensils, pieces of wood and plastic.

They were just discarded objects: things salvaged from the dump and a few belongings that his grandparents had used when they were still alive.

There were several small holes in the walls, letting in sunlight, but not enough to make the air any less suffocating. The heat was already felt upon waking, and the stench of the dump infiltrated every corner of the house.

Elián stood up, his bare feet touching the ground, feeling the cracks in the earth. The discomfort was constant. He walked reluctantly toward his bathroom, a small, windowless space. The old wooden door had no doorknob. Inside, a broken toilet occupied the center of the room.

Despite being damaged, Elián still used it, and although it wasn't in the best condition, it still worked... or almost did.

Gulp!

He pulled the handle, making the yellowish water from the pipes empty into the toilet. At least he had water, though it was contaminated. To drink it, he had to boil it, but even then, it wasn't healthy. Elián took a bucket of water he had boiled the day before and rubbed his body with a rag, washing himself slowly.

Minutes later, Elián left the house. His clothes were a mess.

He wore a torn t-shirt, with frayed edges and several stains of dirt that couldn't be cleaned. The pants, a mix of fabric and leather, were worn and had holes in several parts. The swamp boots, already old, dragged dust as he walked. His black hair was tangled and covered in dirt, and his pale, sickly skin made him look much thinner than he actually was.

He had an empty garbage bag in one hand, ready to fill it with whatever he could find.

The sweat had already begun to soak his back, but he knew he couldn't waste time. The morning, although hot, was less dangerous than the night in the dump.

He walked for several minutes from his house, located in a remote and almost uninhabited area. The place where he lived was one of the most nauseating, with a smell so penetrating it seemed like a rat had been rotting for weeks in stagnant waters.

The advantage of living in a place like this, however, was that no one dared to rob his home. In the dump, it wasn't uncommon for the poorest, like him, to isolate themselves.

Along the way, he didn't see a soul in sight.

After about five minutes of walking, Elián arrived at the entrance to the center of the dump, where the Escombros Colony stood, one of the many colonies that inhabited this inhospitable place. The houses were bigger but built from scrap metal, rusted metals, and rotten wood. The hustle and bustle filled the air, with people roaming the streets looking for something useful among the waste, moving like shadows amidst the desolation.

Merchants and beggars mingled among the vast mountains of garbage. Trucks arrived nonstop, unloading tons of waste that piled up on the horizon.

Elián didn't greet anyone, although he recognized some faces. What his grandparents had taught him was engraved in his mind: never trust anyone in the dump. He had learned to keep to himself, alone and silent, living without depending on others. Despite everything, Elián had a few acquaintances, who could almost be considered friends. One of them was Javier, a boy his age who spent hours assembling devices that never worked.

He rarely saw him, as his parents were extremely protective and never let him go out to scavenge.

Upon reaching the rusty gates marking the entrance to the center of the dump, Elián encountered a group of men. They were burly types, known for taking advantage of the weaker ones.

Scavengers of the worst kind, they convinced the needy to borrow money from them, with absurdly high interest rates that left them in debt. Then, they forced these people to gather scrap all day, taking 90% of what they found.

Although they glanced at him sideways, Elián walked past them without paying them any attention.

His indifference made the men ignore him as well, turning their attention back to the debt slaves, keeping a close watch to ensure none of them could slip away.

He ventured deeper into the heart of the dump. His swamp boots creaked as he stepped on the broken metal and wood debris scattered all around. Despite his footwear, he was always alert, avoiding stepping on anything too sharp. He knew his boots, already very worn, wouldn't offer much protection. A wound in this place could mean a death sentence, as diseases and infections were the leading causes of death in this hell of waste.

The place was saturated with people who, like him, were trying to profit from the trash, rummaging through the dirty and abandoned remains.

Fortunately, he only exchanged fleeting glances with them, and quickly each one went their own way.

Elián looked around, searching for valuable objects. A piece of rusted iron here, a couple of wires there, and some old appliance parts in a corner. He quickly put them in his garbage bag, making sure to save anything that could have value before someone else saw it.

Hours passed, the sweat on his forehead mixed with the dust and the foul smell of the dump.

He had already gathered a good amount of things.

Elián knew this would be enough to buy some food. Maybe some bread, a couple of bottles of clean water, and, if he was lucky, a fruit. Fruits were a rare luxury in the dump, and their prices were exorbitant. A small piece of fruit could cost up to 5 Quetzals, which would be enough for a week of dry bread!

Grrroooorr!

His stomach growled loudly, and his mind sought refuge in the image of the fruit, juicy and refreshing. If only he could get one, even a simple apple or pear...

"Shit," Elián whispered, interrupting his pleasant fantasy.

As he approached the gate of Escombros Colony, Elián came across something unexpected: a group of young people, about ten in total, surrounding him. They looked to be between 15 and 20 years old. It wasn't rare to encounter gangs of ruthless bastards in this place, always lurking, waiting for the right moment to ambush someone and take away what they had managed to gather.

One of them, who seemed to be the leader, slowly approached Elián and said with a mocking smile: "What do we have here? A little malnourished rat. Hey, since you're about to die, why don't you give us that bag you have? What do you say? It's a fair deal, right?"

Elián frowned when he heard this, but didn't hesitate for a second. He immediately started running!

"Don't let that damn rat escape!" the leader shouted, pointing at Elián in fury.

The chase began immediately. Elián ran as fast as he could, zigzagging between the mountains of garbage, dodging with agility those who tried to catch him. As he did so, he took every opportunity to throw dirt and pieces of trash at the faces of his pursuers, further hindering their progress.

The shouts and insults echoed behind him like an echo of hate.

Elián knew his goal; if he could cross a couple more garbage mountains, he would be safe in the Escombros Colony.

But he knew that if they caught him, they would probably beat him. He had lived through similar situations before, and those experiences had taught him that he couldn't afford to be caught!

Fsshhh! Fsshhh!

The crackling of the garbage bag filled with scrap didn't stop, resonating with each hasty step. Elián knew he was very close, he could almost feel the safety of the colony.

"!"

But in a moment of distraction, one of his feet sank into a hole between the debris, making him stumble and fall to the ground.

Thud!

"Uugh!"

Before he could get up, he felt a kick to the chest, and a wave of pain washed over him. The air left his lungs, and before he could react, they were kicking him again.

Elián had already lost count of how many blows he had received.

This went on for an interminable minute until the leader, with a mixture of disdain and boredom, declared: "Enough. It's not worth killing him. Let's go with the loot."

Blood dripped from his broken lip, and a crimson thread started escaping from his nose, though it didn't seem too serious. The young men walked away, laughing among themselves as if it were just a simple game. Elián, furious and with his chest tight from a bitter sadness, knew that this was how this place was: a jungle where the strong devoured the weak. At least, this time, he had come out alive.

He lay on the ground, struggling to breathe. A few minutes passed before he could get back up.

Elián looked up at the sky, noticing that it was already starting to get dark. It was dangerous to stay here when night fell. The center of the dump became a jungle of criminals and mentally ill people. He couldn't stay there much longer.

He stood up with effort, brushing the dust off his clothes and looking around for something of value. But all he saw was more useless trash.

"Shit... At this rate, I'm going to starve," he murmured softly while pressing his empty stomach, which growled in protest.

Suddenly, a golden flash appeared among the piles of debris, faintly glowing. Elián approached cautiously, his eyes fixed on the object that seemed like a valuable find. The problem was that it was partially buried in a deep hole; if he wasn't careful, any wrong move could destabilize the entire pile of trash and make it collapse on top of him.

He crouched down and carefully reached into the pile of garbage. He felt something soft and round. He slowly pulled it out...

Elián's heart started to race, the object's shine seemed like a promise of hope. But in an instant, the pile of garbage began to tremble beneath his feet. With a quick move, Elián took the object and hid it under his shirt, not even daring to look at it. Without wasting any time, he turned around and ran with all his strength.

Crash!

In a matter of seconds, the pile of garbage collapsed behind him, enveloping him in a dense cloud of dust and a nauseating smell of decay.

When the dust cloud cleared, Elián was nowhere to be found.