The buildings were run down. Food was scarce. And the last train capable of hauling food into town had broken down. The smoke of its burning engine marred the horizon, taunting us. We would not starve today, maybe not even tomorrow. But knowing no help was arriving any time soon soured our moods.
An older gentleman who took up a leadership position in our shelter instructed me to head out to the train and haul what I could on foot.
“Just be sure to strap yourself up,” he instructed.
“Right,” I replied.
And complied: strapping my sleeves, gloves, pant legs, and a hood as tight as I comfortably could. Making something of a makeshift bee suit. I head out, empty bag strapped to my back.
I saw them skittering about. The adult form of the parasite that caused this mess. Small, almost spider-like, but with a long tail tipped with a stinger. Traveling outside like this was common enough that I was no longer bothered by them. And neither were the poor souls who were condemned to live out here.
They littered the desolate streets. Some dead. Many not. Their flesh eaten away by the parasites’ larval form. Worms. Some even had the small, bluish worms peeking from their skin. And the adults returning to make use of what flesh remained to raise new young.
The trip to the train wasn’t terribly eventful. But it was exhausting. I loaded up what I could carry of the food supplies that were intended for our shelter, and turned to head back. Others from our shelter had followed along, intent on taking what they could as well.
We all returned together, and after ensuring there were no hitchhikers, we distributed what we had to the families living there.
About then, I’d started to feel it. A squirming, chewing pain in my muscles. How…? I’d been so careful…
But that happened, sometimes. It wouldn’t have been from this trip. Maybe some other outing. Even people who never left the shelter, like the old lady down the hall, sometimes became host for the worms. The only thing we could think of was that the adults were so small, they’d manage to find their way inside somehow. But we’d never actually seen one.
No need to panic, I thought. It’s not a death sentence. And there’s still plenty of time.
If only we had a doctor…