The World Of Steam

12

I woke up and got dressed, throwing on my suit, doing up my tie. I put my shoes on and threw on my trench coat. Reaching over to a table, I grabbed my gas mask and put it over my head. I grunted slightly in discontent as the spike stuck itself into the side of my throat. It was just a little pain that I had to endure for the sake of survival. It was better than eating the horrific daily meals that everyone else ate. Putting my fedora onto my head, I angled the brim and reached for the front door. I did not bother with watching the news this morning and went straight outside. A good walk would clear my head. There was still the problem of curing London. Maybe a solution would come to me along the way. I opened the door and saw that the street was in ruins. Windows were cracked and smashed, doors were hanging by hinges. Cars were in flames, stores were being looted. Suddenly, I saw a man throw a Molotov cocktail through a window and it blew up, incinerating everything inside. What the hell was going on? One second later, it clicked. A mass riot, that's what was going on. Someone had seen me with the cure and had spread the information. Now everyone wanted a piece of it for themselves. What I held in my possession was essentially the holy grail. I could not go outside now, it was a death trap. Who knew what some random maniac would do to me if they caught me? I closed the door after observing the carnage for five seconds and walked into my bedroom. I quickly stepped over to my bed and looked underneath it, drawing out a dull steel rifle and a sword. I grabbed a long belt of bullets and threw them over myself, stocking up on ammunition. A single shot poison gun was not going to be enough. I slung the rifle onto my shoulder and strapped the sword to myself. Suddenly, I heard a window downstairs break and instantly drew my sword out. I crept down the stairs and saw two people, sneaking about my house, searching for any loot to plunder. One of them saw me and aimed his rifle at me in surprise. I suddenly grabbed the other one by his throat and used him as a shield. The shooter was too late to stop himself and his finger tensed against the trigger, letting the bullet fly into his friend's chest. I threw his corpse down and grabbed my rifle without hesitation, shooting my second enemy in the chest. I could not carry the cure around myself like this, it was too much of a risk. I quickly walked around my house, trying to find a safe hiding spot. Finding one, I put the cure inside and locked it up, away from the danger of being damaged. If someone stole the cure from me, it would all be over. I stepped outside to join the fight. If I stayed at home, there was the danger of someone killing me and easily finding the cure. If I was outside, with the fight, there would be a chance of me surviving. It sounded wrong, but here, out with the madness, I couldn't be safer. I saw other armed civilians pouring out of their houses, weapons in their hands. Some even grabbed shovels and pickaxes and began to dig trenches and defensive positions. So...it had finally come to this.