memento mori [DNF]

Chapter 11

The sun had just rose, so George needed to stay in the shadows to avoid detection. Even though it was daytime, he knew exactly what building he needed to go to. It wasn't too far, and he knew the trek there would be much faster since he wasn't lugging around Clay's unconscious body. He wasn't sure what he was walking into, and he wasn't even completely sure why he was walking into it in the first place. He had planned on investigating it, and had already tried once, but his plan had a far better chance at succeeding if it took place at night. He could easily be spotted during the daytime, and he also had no way of knowing if they would even be in that same spot now. They could've left the area or be out looting other buildings. His only option was to go now though. If he waited until nightfall, Clay's condition would be much worse. Infection spreads fast. The time to take off his leg to prevent the infection from spreading had already passed. Even if they had taken the leg it would be almost impossible to prevent him from bleeding out or simply dying from another infection.

"Damn."

George's grip on his knife handle tightened and he picked up his pace. The likelihood of them having any kind of medicine was slim, but they could have some herbal salve. That was far more common and some salves worked almost as well as actual medicine. If they didn't have anything, Clay would die. George would have to fight for his own life, but also for Clay's. After all, Clay was only in this position because of George. He knew that at the time, he had no other choice than to fight back, but he couldn't help but feel guilty.

He reached the building and wasted no time getting inside. He felt no need to check the bottom floor from the outside. He knew if they were all the way out here, they didn't have guns, and he was confident enough in his fighting skills that he could counter attack any ambush.

He didn't remember what floor the light had previously been coming from, but it didn't matter, he'd just keep moving upwards until he found them. Despite how strong he was, he had a small frame, allowing him to be light on his feet. He moved swiftly through the floors, barley making a sound.

He reached the top of a floor and rounded the corner to continue up the stairs, when something caught his eye. He backed off the steps and peered into one of the rooms to the side. In the corner, there were packs lined up against a wall, and a burnt pile of wood. He slithered around the edge of the stairwell and out of view of the open door. He closed the gap between him and the opposing wall and slowed his breathing so that he could listen.

Silence.

Knife in hand, he slowly peered over his shoulder into the doorway. Seeing nothing on that side of the room, he quickly moved into the room and checked the other side.

There was no one.

Well this is a lot easier than I thought it was going to be.

He started checking each bag, being as fast and thorough as he could. There were four of them. He couldn't help but wonder why they would leave their packs here if they went out scavenging. Unless... he thought.. Unless there were more than four people and the others had brought their bags with them.

This could be bad.

There would probably still only be a max of eight people, but even then, if they were all skilled, it could pose a real threat. His basement was hidden, but not well enough to evade the eye of someone who knew what they were looking for. The bags were in good condition as well. A sign of wealth. A bad sign.

So far he had gathered two knives, some rope, and two bottles. One that the assumed had water inside, and one that was brown, probably filled with alcohol. The bottle with the assumed water had a crack along the side in which droplets were forming on the outside every few seconds. He'd have to boil it and discard the bottle.