Through The Ashes

8

More trash and other items cluttered the pavement as both hunters walked the open sidewalks to Weston Avenue. Jorn kept her hand hovering over her gun, eyes darting from shadow to shadow, nerves still on edge.

"I brought two trash bags, but we can just fill one if you want. Take turns carrying it," Mara said softly.

"Sure," Jorn replied.

After another few blocks, they reached Weston Avenue. Jorn stopped at the intersection, staring at the familiar street sign that had once been nothing more than a mundane part of her everyday life. Now, it was a marker of something she had left behind, something that had been buried in the nightmare that was now everyone's life.

"You okay?" Mara asked. Her tone still soft.

Jorn swallowed thickly. She didn't answer. Instead, she studied the row of buildings ahead, her gaze falling on the third-floor window of an old, run-down apartment complex.

Her apartment.

She could still picture it clearly in her mind—her old life before everything fell apart.

"Fine," Jorn muttered finally.

They approached the building cautiously, the entrance blocked by a pile of stone that had fallen from the crumbling facade. It was in better condition when Jorn decided she couldn't stay there any longer, her food running low and the complex becoming more and more dangerous.

Mara moved to the side, finding a narrow opening between two broken windows where they could slip inside. Jorn stopped her before she could hop through, a heavy hand on her shoulder.

"Be ready for anything," Jorn whispered.

Mara nodded, her eyes firm. "Of course."

The interior of the building was dark and smelled of mildew. The walls were peeling, and the floor was littered with old clothes, and personal belongings left behind in the panic of evacuation. The weight of abandoned lives clung to every inch of the place.

Jorn had her pistol drawn, her flashlight in her other hand, checking the lobby as best as she could. Every step was heavier, the memories pressing down on her like a physical weight. She hadn't been here since she left, and she wasn't sure she was ready to face what might be left behind.

Nobody knew she lived here. The detail was never shared. Her anger couldn't be directed at Del for giving her this route. It couldn't be directed at Mara for just trying to do right by the camp. It couldn't be directed at anyone.

Jorn's grip on her pistol tightened as they moved deeper into the building. Every creak of the floorboards, every shift of the shadows sent streams of tension through her body. The air was heavy, stagnant with death.

Mara moved quietly beside her, flashlight sweeping over little things on the ground and dark corners. It was like walking through a ghost of the world they had once known.

They quietly began their voyage up the first flight of stairs. Each door on the first floor was boarded up, making it impossible to get through without making unnecessary amounts of noise. They continued to the second story, a few dead bodies littering the floor. Doors clean off their hinges.

"I almost don't even want to check," Mara mumbled.

"I know," Jorn replied.

Reluctantly, they did anyway, Jorn not leaving Mara's side for a moment as they started filling one trash bag with whatever they deemed useful. Not much was found on the second floor and Jorn had to remind herself that there wasn't time to dwell. She couldn't afford to.