PANDORA - Book 1 (NWC's 2nd place winner)

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER ONE

            I like crowds. The thick stream of people, the beautiful chaos; they’re so easy to blend into. I can effortlessly get lost in them and no one would even notice. I’m the kind of person who dislikes standing out. I dislike being the center of attention. I prefer to stay in the middle of the pack. Always away from being the target. Always safe.

            That was a year ago. It feels like decades.

            Kicking the glass shards on the street, I idly make my way to an old inn five blocks away. I’ve been staying there for a week now. So far, no trouble had sprung up. The war obliterated some parts of this town but outskirts are untouched. And judging by the drawn shutters and closed doors, everyone who used to live here didn’t die here. They left.

            Everyday, I go out to scout the area. I don’t know why I should. I don’t even know what to do if ever I find something or someone alive aside from me. Attack it and kill it or ally with it and trust it or run away from it, I have no idea. I just have to keep myself busy or else I’ll go mad. And then, I’ll end up like everyone else. I wish it was that easy. Sometimes, a part of me wants to just let go.

            I’m not supposed to be thinking sentimental stuff right now. It’s not like I’m not used on being alone. Heck, I’ve been alone my entire life. I had my mom but she doesn’t hover over me all the time unlike most mothers. Me, I usually try to avoid conflict. I made connections tight enough to have people behind my back but also loose enough to avoid commitments. It worked out. Maybe that’s the only reason why I’m still alive. Because I trusted no one but myself.

            The street is strewn with few abandoned vehicles. Unfortunately, most of them are not functional anymore. I could really use a car right now. The last one I drove to get in here lies two miles outside of town with steaming engine and malfunctioning wires. Not an option anymore.

            I glance at the west. The sun reads late afternoon, probably five. It’ll be dark soon so I hurry. It’s not wise to stay outdoors when the sun’s already down. I jog.

            A shotgun dangles heavily behind my right arm. It slams on my side at every step, bumping on my hip in awkward thumps. A few months back, I found this in one of the houses I passed on my way here. I keep it loaded all the time. I haven’t used it so far but I carry it along anyway. No one can tell when danger comes in a curb. It’s always best to be prepared.

            I stop in front of a large building which faces the former municipal hall. This used to be a grocery store but now, the sign that says Corie’s Mart is torn and lying on the street. I almost forgot that I run out of provisions. I suppose I can find something in there like what I did when I first got here. I glance at the bleeding west. I still got a few minutes before the sun sets completely.

            I round at the side and find the wooden box I propped under the fire exit ladder. I stand over the box. Reaching for the lowest rung, I pull myself up and climb. It’s a wearing task but I have no other choice since the entrance is blocked by a metal grilled door.

            Gasping for breath, I make it to the second floor. It’s dark so I flick the switch of my flashlight and I hoard stuff into my backpack. Canned goods that haven’t reached their expiration dates yet, batteries, lighters, matches, old soaps, oils, toothbrush, and most importantly, water. I also raid the medicine counter where I grab handful of everything that can be put in a first aid kit.

            A laugh bubbles in my stomach as I find an unlocked cash register. Lucky day. A wad of Philippine bills and coins swim right before my eyes. I wonder if the grocery owner forgot to clean out the register before leaving.