From the Ashes, You Crawl

Chapter Five

Gerard left his panic room days later when he felt he had punished himself long enough. He was incredibly weak from nearly starving. The man had hobbled to his stockpile and eaten the minimum amount he could manage before he went back to stacking and re-stacking his piles for hours until he felt like it was perfect.

Then, the man stumbled back to his room, set his alarm, and fell asleep like any normal day.

The following morning, Gerard awoke like he had done hundreds of times, packed his bag, grabbed a new gun and his katana, and left for the city. When he got there, he pulled the large map from his back. The man examined the map, red X's over apartments and buildings and stores that he had already gutted. His eyes fell on one square a block from where he was that he had yet to go to. Nodding his head slightly, Gerard folded his map and set off for the apartment building.

Even though it was morning, Gerard was wary of something inside waiting. He drew his new pistol. It didn't feel as good in his hands as his old one had, but it was still a loaded gun that, if needed, could be pressed to his brain. Taking a shallow breath, Gerard limped up to the front door. The glass was broken, but faded evacuation notices still clung to the outside. Gerard pushed those away, and he ducked inside the building. There was no noise on the inside the building, and when he was in far enough, Gerard noticed part of the wall was corroded away, allowing natural light to flood in, which meant there was probably no infected hiding in here.

This made Gerard feel safer, but he kept his gun close, holding it in his hands as he limped to the stairs. Gerard hobbled up two flights of stairs, almost cursing the whole way. This damned leg was going to be the death of him someday. He rubbed it softly when he was at the second floor. The rubbing did provide a little bit of relief but not enough to mount another flight of stairs. This was as far as his leg would allow him to go. Gerard leaned against the wall beside the door leading to the second floor, rubbing his leg. The lone man made a note that he had to find more medication somehow.

After several minutes, Gerard raised his head and approached the door that lead into the second floor. He held the pistol in his right palm, pressing his left hand to the door, and, very carefully, he pushed it inwards.

There was no moaning, groaning, or wheezing inside the corroded hallways. It was fortunately abandoned. Gerard let his gun slowly drop beside his hip, resting for a moment as he limped around. The man eyes a red door with the number '033197' clinging to the door. The paneling was peeling away, revealing pale wood beneath. Gerard was not sure why he liked that door among the few others on the door, but that was the one he chose as he limped forwards.

Gerard pushed the door open very cautiously, the gun in his hand. The room was rather bright, silent, and abandoned. There were no infected hiding in here. Gerard sighed from relief, closing the door behind him. He stowed the gun back into his pants where it had been before. The man glanced around the abandoned room. He eyed a large, red chair a few feet away, and he carefully moved it in front of the door, simply so he'd feel a little more safe. Gerard sighed softly, nodding at his barricade before turning inside.

Back in the day, it had probably been a very nice apartment, but now, it was decaying from the time it had spent without being tended to. The yellow wallpaper was peeling away from the white walls beneath. The windows were broke in and broken glass shards were still spread across the floor and coffee tables in front of a long, red sofa. That reminded Gerard of something, but he wasn't quite sure what it was. There were bookcases around too, most of them entirely full of all kinds of books all different shapes and sizes. Gerard considered taking a few books, but he wasn't so sure he remembered how to read any more.

Besides, Gerard never collected anything that could be used for fun. He didn't have time for fun. Only for his schedule, and his collecting. That was all. Gerard walked into the conjoined kitchen, his limp creating an echo off the hollow walls. He hobbled over to the cabinets and pulled them open. Dented cans and boxes of instant meals stared back at him. He set his bag on the counter, and he picked them up one by one, examining the cans and boxes as he set them into his bag. Most of the time, Gerard simply guessed what was on the inside of the food containers, or he looked at the pictures on the sides.