Fire Away

Chapter Five

CHAPTER FIVE

Not long after the incident, John decided to take inventory, accounting for what he had lost. The stairwell was gone, filled with infected. There was no more garage, no more access to hoses, gasoline, or emergency vehicles.

The only gear he had was what he had worn. The rest of the oxygen was down in the bay, leaving him with one tank to protect him from whatever the mist on the ground was.

He gathered the food that had spilled onto the floor, finding a new place to keep it. He didn't plan on moving the fridge. He still had his gym and a bed to sleep in. There was some supplies left for fires but not as much as before.

He ran his fingers through his hair as he felt the stress overwhelm him, unsure of what his next move would be. He realized with the stairwell overrun, he would have to use the fire escape to bring any supplies to the roof.

He headed to the living area and opened the window, popping his head outside. There was a small metal ledge and one ladder going up about twenty feet to the top. He sighed as he imagined carrying everything up.

He leaned back inside and took a deep breath before heading to the kitchen. He made himself a sandwich and sat down at the table. The sound of the infected echoed in his head as he closed his eyes, holding his breath for a moment. He took small bites, trying to calm himself. All he could imagine was their teeth ripping through his suit if he hadn't made it up.

John stood up and aggressively swiped his plate off of the table, shattering it against the wall. The whole building began to shake as his raised an eyebrow at the broken plate. A deafening noise came from outside, sounding like a jet. He ran to the fire escape, climbing out of the window. As he looked up, he saw something soar over him and past the roof.

He quickly climbed the ladder and watched as two fighter jets flew towards downtown. He shielded his eyes from the sun as he tried to keep an eye on them, listening to the infected grow even more aggressive.

The city ignited into flames as the fighter jets dropped napalm. John stumbled back in shock at the sight, his eyes wide while he watched. Flames arose from the streets as the infected roared from miles away.

John quickly turned to the other rooftop and saw the other person watching as well. The jet noise slowly faded as they disappeared beyond the horizon. He waved his arms and called out for the other person to hear, and they looked right at him. John shrugged his shoulders in disbelief, pointing his hand towards the burning city. The other person put their hand on their forehead and sat down.

He could barely comprehend what had just happened, and instinctively reached for his radio. He switched it on and held it up to his mouth as he pressed the button.

"Hello? Is anyone out there reading this? Please respond." He said.

Silence.

"Earth to United States Air Force, what the hell is going on?! Do you hear me! Over!" John exclaimed.

Again, nothing.

John began switching through the channels, but gave up after a few minutes of silence. He lowered his radio in defeat as he watched the smoke rise from the city. If that strike had been ten miles closer, he would've been dead.

A few days later

John sat on the rooftop, eating a protein bar as he looked out at the city. He tossed the wrapper into the fire and sighed.

The garage bay was still full of infected and inaccessible. There was no more activity in the air after the bombing, and things had quieted down again. He attempted to radio anyone for the first day or two after the strike, but no one ever answered.

The other person had been outside most of the week, but they didn't move around much. He watched as their fires grew smaller by the night, and tonight they had no light.

Meanwhile, John had four burning in hopes of flagging down another plane or helicopter. Unfortunately his efforts were let down and at this point he figured he was burning away his winter supply. It was only a couple months until it would get real cold, then what would he do?

Tonight was the last, he thought to himself.

After tonight, he would put an end to the signal fires. Nobody was coming, he knew that much by now. And if his new friend had no more to burn, he felt uncomfortable boasting his own supply for no rhyme or reason. John endured a long and quiet night, even the horde in the bay had settled down. Once the fires were out, he called it a night and hit the hay.

The next morning, he skipped his usual routine and went straight to the rooftop. Once he got up there, he was happy to see the other person still there. He chuckled to himself as relief settled over him. No matter what happened, he wasn't the last man alive. For now, at least. He laid on the rooftop reading a book, occasionally peeking over to the other person.

They weren't up to much, coming in and out of their building to check out the surroundings. He took a sip of water and flipped the page, looking at the city. It was the most relaxed he had felt in weeks. But after a couple hours, he noticed the other person was gone.

At first, he didn't think much of it. But he had a bad feeling in his gut. He stayed on the roof the rest of that day, and the other person didn't show up again.

The next day when he got to the rooftop, the other person still wasn't there. He began to get a worried feeling, pacing back and forth. John reached for his flare gun before realizing he only had three shots left.

"Screw it." He said aloud.

He aimed it towards the sky beside the other building and fired a shot, sending a flare high into the sky. He was hoping it would catch their attention; maybe they would come out. But they never did. John became disgruntled as he holstered his flare gun and tried to keep himself calm.

"Hello!" He shouted.

Nothing.

His last plan to leave the station and get there failed miserably, but he became anxious. He couldn't bear to lose the only person he had come to care about. And that's when it hit him. He didn't even know them yet he cared for them. They were his friend, whether it made sense or not. He had to do something.

John looked around for anything that could help his case, but was left with nothing. Until he saw it. Power lines stretched throughout the entire city. He hustled over to the ledge and looked up at the thick black cables. They were about five feet above him. He overlooked the city, studying where they lead. And one of them lead straight to the other persons rooftop.