Levi's Last Hope

1.

        ROSIE HELD THE WOODEN SLAT UP with her finger, having a nosey outside. The window blinds were pointed downwards for privacy, but that didn't stop her. Not when something had caught her attention. 

        There was a man in the street.

        Once upon a time, that might not have been an unusual occurrence.

        Nowadays, it was rare to see a person outside who wasn't shuffling along, uncoordinated, covered in old blood with at least a single bite mark.

        No. This man was alive. She could tell by how he moved, graceful and careful, as if calculating each step before he took it. Half his face was hidden, which immediately had her on high alert. He looked like a burglar. Rosie half expected him to start breaking windows on the council estate. . .if there were any left to break, that is.

        A machete hung from one gloved hand by his leg. Even from here, she could tell he was a big fella. A large backpack was hugging his shoulders, along with something long and thin at the bottom she couldn't quite make out. He strode towards the shops on the other side of the road, opposite the block of flats Rosie spied from.

        He wouldn't find anything in those three stores because they'd already been ransacked at the beginning of the end, but the idea he was there to scavenge had Rosie drawing her bottom lip between her teeth.

        Her biggest concern was him turning his attention to the tower block once he'd left the shops empty-handed. At thirty-one years old and five-foot-five with only a wooden baseball bat to defend herself with, she was hardly intimating.

        Rosie didn't know how much time had passed since the world ended. Weeks? Months? After her phone died, she'd lost track of time. It felt like forever.

        As soon as the government had fallen and laws went out of the window, it was dog eat dog. Rosie hadn't ventured out since it happened, but she didn't have to to know just how evil people could be. One week in, she'd witnessed a teenager stab a forty-year-old man in the chest for his bottled water. The man had stumbled somewhere behind the shops afterwards. Rosie wondered if his body was still behind there.

        It was after that she swore to avoid people at all costs. It had been relatively easy, with at least three-thirds of the UK a mindless zombie. The brunette hoped the man across the street carried on his way so he didn't break her streak.

        A squeal sounded from behind her. Rosie turned, smiling softly at her baby, who'd rolled onto her side in an attempt to grab her toy. A pink waffle blanket sat underneath her. Lily squealed again, giggling as the wooden part of the teething ring brushed against her chubby fingers.

        As far as the company went, Rosie thought she could do much worse.

        The smile quickly faded as she remembered the man outside. It was safer if she assumed he meant harm. Rosie wouldn't take any chances when it came to the precious life she'd vowed to protect playing on her living room floor.

        She peered back outside, seeing him exit one of the shops. It wouldn't have taken more than a minute or two to step inside each one and deem it a waste of time. Rosie held her breath. The man glanced around before placing one jean-covered leg in front of the other, heading straight for her.

        The block of flats named Finches Tower was eight floors high. A reinforced, heavy wooden door separated the lobby from the outside. None of the other residents remained. They'd either turned or fled, chasing hope in the form of military broadcasts on the local radio stations.