The Two of Us

Chapter 1: Steele... Zane Steele

The air just hangs there, thick and still, like it's holding its breath. My Converse sneakers beat out a rhythm on the cracked pavement—tap-tap-tap—the only sound daring to disturb the silence in this ghost town. The buildings loom overhead, windows shattered as if the silence got too heavy for them. I yank my hoodie snug, not for warmth but because it feels like the whole town is watching, waiting to spill secrets buried in the dust.

It's kinda poetic, you know? The street art frozen in time, shouting stories of the past now just whispers in the wind. I picture the rebels who left their mark, their teenage rebellion still hanging in the spray-painted messages. It's like their angst got trapped in these walls, and now I'm wandering through their angst-ridden masterpiece.

I pause in front of what used to be a café, "Anna's Brew," in faded letters. Bet Anna brewed up some killer coffee, and this place was the spot for spilling the tea. Now, it's just me and the suffocating silence.

My stomach rumbles, breaking the silence and reminding me I'm not here for a stroll down memory lane; I'm here to scavenge for something edible.

I step into the café, making a beeline for the kitchen. I'm crossing my fingers, hoping Anna left behind a secret stash of snacks. I open a few cupboards, but all I find are dust bunnies and abandoned spider webs. Every teen's nightmare: no junk food in sight. The fridge stands empty, its shelves echoing my disappointment. Anna didn't leave any instant noodles for the apocalypse, it seems.

As I sift through the remnants of a life that feels like a distant dream, memories crash over me like a tsunami. I remember when life was all about playing with dolls, running around with friends, and going to school, not maneuvering through the daily undead obstacle course. I can almost taste the sweetness of cotton candy on those summer nights at the fair, the echoes of laughter with friends who now exist only in the recesses of my mind.

I used to complain about homework and curfews; now, my concerns are measured by the silent spaces between one decaying building and the next. It's bizarre how the world can flip, turning innocence into a game of survival and transforming laughter into hushed footsteps.

On the counter, I discover an old cassette player, a relic from a time when dust was just dust, not a marker of the past. Memories cling to its plastic surface like stubborn ghosts. I blow off the dust clouds, feeling a pang of nostalgia as I recall the mixtapes that used to score road trips and lazy afternoons. Now, those tunes that play on repeat in my head provide the soundtrack to my solitary quest for sustenance in this eerie new world.

I return to the lonely streets, my Converse echoing in the silence. Anna's Brew turned out to be a bust, but I cling to the hope that somewhere, in the cracks and corners, there's a surprise waiting for me. Maybe there's a secret stash of snacks just waiting to be uncovered in this forgotten town.

The next stop on my quest for sustenance is the convenience store across the street. I push open the squeaky door, cringing at the protest it voices. In the dim glow, I scan the shelves, hoping for a glimmer of something edible. But alas, the shelves mirror the emptiness in my stomach.

I surrender, slouching against the dusty checkout counter, my fingers idly tracing patterns in the layer of grime. Thoughts of my parents sneak in; their laughter and warm hugs are fading memories, like echoes in a canyon.

I take an old photo out of my backpack, the edges worn and frayed like the memories it holds. We're captured in a moment of bliss on the beach, the sun playing on our faces, ignorant of the impending darkness. Those smiles, frozen in time, whisper tales of joy and mock the shadows that followed.

Five years ago, raiders tore through our sanctuary, transforming it into a nightmare. The heaviness in my chest matches the burden of grief that's been my constant companion. Flashes of chaos, fear, and the metallic tang of blood replay like a horror movie on an endless loop. It's a stain on my soul, a permanent scar that refuses to fade.