There’s a colony of us in the hills in the countryside. Me, my fiance, three of our friends, two colleagues of mine, a couple of strangers. Our families, I wish I could say, but half of us have no one left but each other.
We hid in the offices at my job at first. For some reason the stink of spoiling food keeps them away, and my company has plenty of that going now. We had food, we had room… then, we had one of them drop through the window and we knew we had to go. They’re like rats, following each other’s scent. Next, we went to an abandoned store near the seafront. We were okay there but I could hear them scratch around at night so we left. Now, we’re living in a large barn in a small town close to the motorway. But I can’t shake off the feeling they know where we go. They’re like lions… they stick close to the zebras.
Usually it’s a week between going into a new home and finding one of them breathing down our necks. We found this place nine days ago. I know we’re being stalked.
I don’t want to be pounced.