Coroniam City

My father drove down dark allies full of twists and turns and even a few sharp rights or lefts that threatened to have us slam into a brick wall. It amazed me at how well he knew the back ways to Coroniam so well when just two years ago he had called me during my trip through Gailwind, a city by the sea, to tell me that he had bought his first vehicle. The allies weren't completely empty; there were numerous times where we had to stop and reverse only to inch forward as close to the walls of the tall buildings beside us as possible so another car could fit as well and my father cursed up a storm each time; it seemed that he wasn't the only one scared of the main streets.

Finally, after about twenty minutes, my father finally turned onto a street and we had escaped the maze of buildings and trash. He didn't speak as we drove up a hill lined with homes that had shattered windows and broken down doors. We made it to the top where it turned into a haunted looking cul-de-sac, equipped with the single, flickering lamp post right in the middle. He stopped at the first house on the right, careful not to hit the curb or the mailbox - not that anyone in Coroniam received mail.

"So you've moved?" I asked but he just shushed me and rolled down his window. I unlocked my door but he held up his hand.

"Wait," he said. Then, he looked around through squinted eyes.

I couldn't remember my father ever being this paranoid but when I had left Coroniam, the virus was being contained. The people who were infected were scared off into the subways and the entrances had been barred by electric metal poles. They weren't scared of the electricity but it still hurt them and slowed them down in time for nearby guards to shoot any who tried to get out and scare them back into the depths of the subways where they fed off of rats and anything else they could find.

"Alright," he said. His voice pulled me from my thoughts just as he was opening his door. I caught a small glint of something and reached for his arm to pull him back into the truck.

"Dad!" I shouted.

He looked back at me with wild eyes just as woman slammed into his door, shutting it for him. My father reacted quickly, turning the car on and reversing like a mad men. The woman stood in front of the car and our headlights illuminated her mangled body. Her dress was ripped and her right arm was full of deep cuts and gashes while the left was missing completely. Her eyes were black and her teeth were jagged points. She started to run towards the car and my father slammed his foot on the gas, sending us flying backwards.

"You tell me if she's getting to close," he instructed. His head was turned towards the back as he maneuvered his way back down the street.

I watched the woman run after us with incredible speed and determination; her dark eyes were locked with mine, drawing me to her. Her mouth twisted into a devilish smile as she fell into an animal pose. She ran towards us even faster now as she used her wounded hand to propel herself further and she was gaining quickly. I reached for my father, unable to speak. He glanced forward and slammed on his breaks. The woman, still watching me, had not seen our truck stop and ran straight into us. The car shook for a moment and then everything was still.

"I think we should go now," I whispered. I couldn't look at my father, I was scared that if I did, she might get up and attack us and we wouldn't know until it was too late.

"We will, in just a second," my father said. I heard the sound of his gun clicking into place and stole a quick glance towards him. "Stay in the truck."

I waited as my father slowly stepped out onto the street. When he had opened the door, I heard the pained moans coming from just in front of the vehicle and knew, hitting the truck had hurt the woman. My father stepped cautiously towards the front, turning around every so often to make sure another one hadn't snuck up behind him. He stopped just as he reached the front of the truck and aimed his gun towards the ground. Without so much as a sign of remorse, he shot the woman and then quickly hurried back into the truck.

"We're going to go to stay with a friend of mine until morning." It was all he said as he turned the truck around and headed out of the neighborhood.

I hadn't seen such violence like this in such a long time. Thessia, the city I had been staying in didn't have any violence. It was like a sanctuary, floating high above all other cities as it toured the world and brought cities like Coroniam knowledge. After years of living Thessia, I learned many different things and a lot about the virus outbreak and how other cities were coping with it and forgot just how Coroniam dealt with it.

My father drove down a few different neighborhoods, dodging a few people who were running in the streets. I sat quietly, still in a state of shock from witnessing him kill that woman. I had seen him kill before, earlier, when the outbreak had just happened but after years of being away from him, it came as quite a shock for me. If he had heard the thoughts running through my head, he would have called me soft and I wouldn't have argued. I was not the same girl who left Coroniam five years ago.

"Where does your friend live?" I asked. I felt like we had been driving in circles for hours by the time I had finally gained the courage to speak up.

"He's a drifter," Dad explained. "You can always tell which house he's in because he spray paints a big line on the door."

"You mean like that?" I asked, pointing towards a house that looked to be in near shambles. My father pulled over a couple of houses down and shut off the car. Again, we waited before opening the doors.

"Hurry up, Piper," Dad said. "We've got to get inside before they see us," he added. He grabbed my hand and pulled me along behind him.

We hurried inside and my father closed the door behind him with a soft click. I could hear noises coming from upstairs and figured it must be my father's friend but decided to stay in the foyer anyway. My father clapped his hands together once and then waited with a big smile on his face. Two stomps sounded from the living room a few seconds later and my father clapped three times.

"Is that you, Arnold?" Came a gruff, older sounding voice.

"Only if it's you, Rodger," Dad responded. He followed the other man's voice into the living room but I held back to listen to the noise coming from upstairs. It was faint but still noticeable, like someone was sneaking around. I stepped towards the stairs cautiously but then my father called me to his side.

I walked towards where my father had headed a few moments before and found him sitting on a torn up couch next to an old man that looked a lot like a beggar. His beard was gray and wild, possibly even matted, and his clothes were torn at many different places. He smiled, revealing a few spots where teeth might have been before and I grimaced. He didn't seem to notice my moment of disgust, or at least he ignored it as he introduced himself.

"Nice to meet you Piper, the name's Mac Roger," he said. He stood up and wrapped me into a tight, smelly hug and I patted his back and held my nose. "Your father never shuts up about you, you know."

"I bet," I mumbled, taking a small step away from the man. He again, paid no attention to my rude behavior and waltzed back over towards the couch where he plopped down beside my father.

"Roger here has saved my butt quite a few times, Piper," Dad explained. I could tell by his tone that he had caught on to my attitude and he didn't like it. "He's quite the Scavenger hunter."

"Oh please, you've saved me from a Scavie, once or twice," Roger said, punching my father on the arm like friends do. My father laughed as I found a seat by the window. Small candles burned beside me, keeping me warm and giving light to an otherwise dark room.

"What's a Scavie?" I asked curiously.

"A Scavenger," my father stated. I cocked my head to the side, still lost on the topic. "What the Hell did they teach you in Thessia? A Scavenger is what they call the people who were infected."

"That's not what they call them," I said. "They call them the sick, or the ill but they don't call them Scavengers."

"I don't see why they wouldn't," Dad said. "That's what they are, little bastards feeding off scraps while they hide in the dark."

"They're not hiding anymore, Arnold," Mac said. He looked towards the window with a deep frown etched onto his hairy face. "They haven't been hiding for a while."

"They shouldn't have to hide," I grumbled. My father and his friend stared at me incredulously. "They're people too," I added.

"Not anymore, Piper," Dad said. He leaned forward and pointed a finger at me, "it would do you some good if you remember all the trouble they've brought us."

I figured it was useless to try and argue with him. My father had many things taken from him when the virus struck. Not only did my brother pass but my dad's girlfriend was taken as well. I had seen the brighter side to the virus when I left Coroniam but my father would never see it, not when he had already lost so much to it.

"How about some dinner?" Mac suggested. "I make a really good Chicken Alfredo," he added with a gaped smile.

Before we could answer, there was a crash in the other room and three men appeared in the doorway. I could smell the rotting flesh on them as they stepped into the room and saw that their eyes were just as black as the woman's from earlier. Their lips spread into hungry smiles, revealing the same sharp teeth as before. The man in the middle spoke, his dark eyes focused on me.

"Dinner sounds wonderful," he said. Then, they attacked.