Delicious I might add.
Inside my own place, darkness reigned, the windows covered over so that, at night, no light could peek out. I’d checked and double-checked that I remained hidden. Just like every day, I made sure my traps were set, the ones that would warn me if someone, or something, came inside. A string of cans strung in the hall. Garbage in front of the stairwell door that would clatter if toppled.
Thus far, I’d been lucky. I’d been living here for about five months. One hundred and forty seven days by the marks I’d made on my wall.
Actually, Karen’s wall. I’d taken over her apartment and, with nothing better to do, had dug into her life. Karen enjoyed puzzles, knitting, and sweaters. So many sweaters.
I didn’t wear one for my upcoming foraging trip. I preferred form-fitting, and dark, the better to blend with shadows as I did my best to slip around unseen.
Once upon a time, I wanted to be seen. Now…I dreaded it.
I waited until well after dawn before venturing outside. There was a time I used to avoid the sunlight. When the virus first hit, it didn’t take long to realize the symptoms of it got worse in the daytime, which ran contrary to every horror movie I’d ever watched.
Something about the UV rays interacting with the alien spores released on Earth made the air dangerous to breathe, hence why I wore a mask the moment I stepped out of my safe room, which was on the second floor of a multi-unit building. Now, you might ask, why not the penthouse?
I will mention, in the early days of the world’s end, when people died in the streets, some by the virus, others because madness reigned, I thought to myself, if I’m going to die, I want to do so in luxury. I walked—and ran—to a condo I’d always admired and rode the elevator up to the top floor, where I encountered a locked door that required an axe. Which it should be noted is not as easy to swing as you’d imagine. Noisy too. But once I managed to whack my way through, I claimed the most luxurious space for myself.
A few weeks later, with no one to monitor the electrical grid, the power went out. It never returned and twenty-five flights of stairs was nobody’s idea of fun. My huffing-and-puffing ass relocated. Several places as it turned out over the next five years. I discovered it was easier to find a new building with many units I could scavenge as my base than forage and lug back stuff.
This time, I’d exhausted not only the apartment complex I’d chosen but the entire block it perched on. It was time to go looking for a new home.
As I crept outside, I remained alert. Only dead people didn’t pay attention to their environment, just like only the stupid didn’t hide at the first noise or hint of movement.
I remember my first attack vividly. It was a wonder I didn’t die that first week after civilization ended. But I learned from my mistakes. Even had the scars to prove it.
My soft-soled shoes didn’t make a sound as I tread carefully forth. I hated the idea of leaving my safe room; however, I’d stripped this building of usable food and items.
Hunger tightened my belly and demanded I be brave and go forth and find a place where dry staples and canned goods gathered dust in empty apartments.
At least being in the city, I had plenty to scavenge, but I remained conscious I wasn’t alone. Although I saw signs of other people less and less as time passed.
In the beginning of the apocalypse, I used to run into folks, some of them the good kind that I hung with for a bit. Yet, after a while, either they got careless and killed or they moved on.
Me? I was too scared to leave the city and the surety of finding food hidden in dusty cupboards. For much too long, I also held on to the hope that help would come. I didn’t want to be lost in the wilderness when it did.
That hope eventually faded. As did my encounters with people. These days, loneliness threatened me most. What I wouldn’t give to hear another human voice. To feel someone’s touch. Masturbating was all well and good, but I missed someone going down on me.
A hug would be nice as well.
Hell, at this point, I’d suck a dick even if I never got the appeal before.
The street outside the building had weeds growing up through the pavement. Each spring, after the winter melt, nature took back more and more of the city. Neatly pruned trees grew wild. Windows cracked over time, and the glass shards littered the pavement. The one thing not seen that I’d expected from the movies was the scraps of paper being tossed around, maybe even a tumbleweed for shits and giggles.
The reality proved more stark.
And inescapable.
The city was a dead place. I knew it, and yet, I couldn’t seem to bring myself to muster the courage to leave. Although, every time I changed buildings, I moved closer to the edge of the city. On foot.
See, I didn’t own a car when the virus hit. Like many, I locked myself away, and hoped I wouldn’t get sick and die. I’d seen the videos before the internet shut down.
People sweating and crying out, their bodies thrashing. Dying in agony. But that seemed preferable to what happened to the others.
By the time it occurred to me I should leave town, the transit system had shut down. I didn’t have a car. I couldn’t rent one, or even pay for a ride.
The services I relied on quit, leaving me with only my two feet. It was why I’d gone only about five miles in five years. That and fear.
Every time I left my hidey-hole I exposed myself. What if someone—something…—spotted me? Attacked me in the open or followed me home?
What if I wasn’t careful enough when it came to protecting myself and I got sick? For all that being alone sucked, I didn’t want to die.
But my biggest fear of all was what if I got to the edge of the city and there was nothing? Just even more quiet streets and dead houses. Less food because suburbia tended to be more spread out. Although maybe I could grow some vegetables.
And kill them with my epically bad, gardening instincts.
My foreboding wasn’t helped by the fact I’d not seen any animals in a long time. Not normal ones at any rate. I didn’t like to think of that thing I’d once seen that might have been a cat. Leaping down from a lamppost, its body wider than normal and tiny legs growing from it. Its eyes a milky white.
Nightmares now walked the Earth. Had everything died or become perverted?
My foot scuffed pavement, and in my mind, I might as well have blown a bugle shouting, “Here I am!”
I paused. Sweated a bit. Put my hand on the comforting weight of the gun by my side. A false confidence since I’d not practiced using it. Didn’t even know if it would fire. Which was why I also had a knife in a sheath, plus another strapped to my calf.
You couldn’t hesitate or give into squeamishness in the apocalypse.
Nothing moved, and yet I breathed hard inside my mask, making myself lightheaded. I wanted to rip it off and gulp the air, but I kept my mask on. I’d not remained alive this long to be stupid now.
At times, though, I wondered if I should bother. I remembered all the arguments on masks. None truly fully filtered virus particles. So explain how I remained alive? What if removing it finally allowed the virus to take root.
The mask stayed on.
And as I continued on my quest for a new apartment, I remembered the day the world technically ended.
Chapter 3
The Past
The world buzzed with excitement.