The Virus

Thirty Eight

The next day, Kay and I scour the entire town. There were barely any Roamers anywhere. It was strange, almost like the world hadn't ended here. As if everyone had just gone on a long vacation. 

The place was small, there couldn't have been many people living here. Somewhere in my mind, I decide that this place may be the best chance Kay and I have now. Looking around, there was little danger, places to sleep, and there was a farm on one side of town, completely abandoned but suitable to grow food and collect water. It had everything we needed to survive, even if only for a little while. 

We find an apartment building close to the centre of town, it wasn't large, barely ten floors, but it towered over all the minute buildings. Looking at the upper storeys, I decide that is probably the best place to make camp, I could fortify it. We had the high ground, I bet you could see the entire town from the top, and the higher you were, the less chance there were of Roamers. 

I smile to myself as we wander towards it. Everything felt as if it was slipping into place; finally.

The only concern that floated into my head was in the unlikely but completely possible event of trouble. Any kind of it. There was only one way to go when you're at the top, and that is down. And if you take any other route than the stairs, you'd be willing for a miracle to reach the ground without a few broken bones or a life at all. 

I'm less cautious now. There's no Roamers on the street still and there's an eerie silence over the place. It seems too safe. But I feel paranoid. I find myself have an argument inside my head. One part tells me to be happy and thankful and to make the most of this opportunity. The other tells me that something has to go wrong and nothing left in the world is this perfect anymore.

By the time I get there, I still have not made up my mind. 

We get there quick enough. It's about eight storeys high and made out of red brick. It looks quite new. All the window and door fittings are still white and the brick isn't faded, the red is still bright and lively. And there's no graffiti or vandalism lining the walls like usual. It must be a couple years old at worst.

We walk in slowly as always. There's a big heavy double door as the main entrance, made completely of glass. I prop it open just in case, a quick exit always came in handy. Kay walks next to me completely ready and alert. I check the ground floor which is mainly the lobby, a mail room and a locked room which I would have to assume gave access to the superintendent of the building. It was clean and few things littered the surfaces except for office supplies and some mail littered about the place. It's all clear. There are no bloody marks or grimy footprints like usual. There was nothing out of the ordinary at all. There's a lift and a staircase which is only one person wide. 

Ignoring the anxiety tugging at me, I march up the steps with meaning, careful to listen for any tell-tale sounds from above. First, I check all the hallways. The building seems virtually untouched. There's one Roamer on the sixth floor, leaning against the far door. But it doesn't seem like it ever left the building. It's clothes are clean and I kill it easily. I get to the top floor, fairly confident that this will be the perfect place to set up camp long term.

I pull open the first apartment and there's nothing. The apartment seems lived in, its kitchen is stocked with mouldy food, clothes are still in drawers, everything is as it should be. Kay hangs back at the front doorway, cautious. 

I move on to the next apartment, and it is the same. Empty. Untouched. The only way you could tell that anything had gone wrong was the lining of dust on everything, it told you no one had been here in a long time. And if they had, cleaning was not their main priority.

Scanning, every apartment, I try to speed up the process slightly and rush on to each one. There were several on each floor and I didn't want to spend the entire day searching over thirty apartments.