The Dead Tenants

He leaves the CD Moe gave him on the table in the living room so that he doesn’t forget it when he returns, right next to the curtains. He didn’t have them before, but he did plan on finding them somewhere – whatever force was at work here, it has solved his problem. They were even purple and adorned with pale, nearly white yellow stars.

For now, however, he just leaves the things as they are and fastens the best shoes he has, ready for the day of trekking through the streets of the city. It is entirely unknown to him, but he’s seen Simon making his way around the streets and he trusts Charlie to know where he’s going. He grabs the coat before leaving and locks the door firmly.

The air is chilly. He wouldn’t say it’s too early, but he moves through the bleak of the building on his own, no sound to accompany him other than his own footsteps. He goes to the apartment 9 first, contemplates knocking – but what’s the point? Zero won’t waste her time with him if she has nothing to gain. She might not even be awake.

He leaves that conquest for another time.

First he opens the metal plates, letting the gray sunlight in; it’s the routine he does every morning. Floors where nobody lives are not opened unless needed. The plates creak when he moves them and when he gets to the ones in front of the apartment 6, he sees Simon waiting downstairs already. He was sure he’s had a minute or two more.

Just as he’s about to go to and descend the stairs, he hears heavy footsteps approaching from above, so he halts and waits up. Soon enough, Charlie’s padding down the stairs. He looks terribly happy for somebody who knows that they’re going to spend the entire day out. Smile on Charlie’s face is firm.

“Good morning, sunshine.” Ramiel should probably be enthusiastic – but he’s tried to sleep and since sleeping normally came on Sunday, it had the effect of the nap. He felt like he was struck by a train and that comparison made him wonder if there were any trains here at all. All cars laid abandoned; he saw no way that there could be anything more. “You seem to be very happy about something.”

Charles doesn’t respond immediately – instead he throws his head and shoulders back and Ramiel can hear the bones crack with the movement. The other man didn’t look as stiff as he sounded.

“This is the first legit action in a while.” Charlie shrugs. “And with a new member too! Isn’t that exciting?”

“Oh, I assure you—“ Ramiel’s not even hiding the sarcasm dripping from his words. “—I’m thrilled.” Charlie snorts and keeps going down the stairs. He mutters something about Simon probably waiting already. His steps are heavy and, this time, he doesn’t pester the others like he usually does in the mornings. Ramiel notices that there’s a dark backpack slung over his shoulder.

“Simon said you might not come.” Charles looks back only briefly, bright eyes focused on Ramiel for a second, but he’s still on the move and looks forward a second later. “Did something make you change your mind?”

“Nothing in particular.” He admits. “I was curious. I want to see what we might find out.”

Charlie shrugs. “It might be nothing. Today, it will probably be nothing. We have to decide where we’re going first.”

Cold air coming from outside, too, and when they step outside, the sun’s barely risen above the line of the buildings. The dawn was surely a little while ago – but it hardly mattered, given how tall the rusting buildings are. Ramiel’s managed to catch the pattern for the most of it, even though there were still some mornings where he would have to endure the screeching of scorched creatures.

Simon is waiting, tapping his foot onto the ground. No one’s cleaned it yet so it scrunches beneath his feet, but he doesn’t seem to be paying attention to it. He, too, came with bare hands, except for the red pen he keeps fiddling with.

“Oh good. You’re both here.” Then, sharper, to Charlie: “You didn’t forget the map, did you?”

Charlie rolls his eyes melodramatically, but he slides the backpack off his shoulder and reaches for the zipper of the smallest pocket. His movements are dominant in the left hand – the one that looks pale and sickly, grey. Three out of his nails on that hand are bruised beneath and black. The man pulls the map out and tosses it to Simon, then zips the backpack up and throws it back onto his shoulders.

Now that Ramiel can observe it in the broad daylight, he notices a gun hanging in the netted pocket on the side.

Simon unravels the map, then folds it. He takes the pen and draws a small crown on one place; it had a star on that spot before, and he adds the tiny crown-like thing right next to it.

“This is where we are.” He says. “I’ve got more maps so we don’t have to go easy on this one.” He ignores Charlie’s snort of of course you have more maps and leans in closer to two other men, using pen to show them movement through the streets. Rarely any of them is labelled, Ramiel notices. “I suggest we start at the concert hall. It’s on the outskirts so it might take us a little while to get there, but I feel like it’s the best place to be looking.”

Ramiel remembers Moe’s words – gotta do this before the snow. He remembers his own assumptions, too.

“Inside would be the best place to look at.” He says, but sighs immediately after. “But I’m not sure how we should go about it, what with those things around here and all.”

“Drive them out, incapacitate what doesn’t melt under the Sun. Theoretically it’s easy enough.” Charlie’s mostly muttering to himself, but Ramiel isn’t sure what to say to this. He’s not the one with the weapon here, but he feels its weight – probably because he doesn’t actually have it. He’s been rather skilled with guns before, but he hasn’t held a weapon in a long time. “Can you use a gun? Or—anything, really. Even using a sling is useful to us.”

The thing with Charlie is – Ramiel’s never sure if he’s joking or not. It’s in the slight changes of the man’s voice, facial expressions and body language. Ramiel knows it worse than the others, but he’s slowly starting to catch up.

“I’m not sure if I would know how to properly wind back the sling and I would probably harm somebody who I shouldn’t.” Ramiel says then, completely serious despite the smile on his face. “But I can use a gun.”

Charlie looks him up and down suspiciously – maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, after all – and then shrugs.

“My good doctor!” He throws his arm around Simon’s shoulder and the darker-skinned male shrugs him off in favourite of folding the map and placing it in the inner pocket of and his jacket. “We’ve got another one to protect you!”

“So everybody else can handle weapons as well?” Ramiel is curious. Perhaps everybody else besides Simon, even though he is sure, at least by the other’s attitude and confidence, that Simon’s not entirely harmless either.

The doctor scoffs at Ramiel’s question, but the nod is apparent.

“I don’t think what Charles does can be called handling, honestly, Ramiel. But they do say it’s effort that counts.” Still then, the doctor steps away from the two men, not overly fond of the notion of somebody being into his personal space or standing to close to other people or them touching him, like Charles just did—but he doesn’t complain.

Charles wordlessly gives Ramiel a weapon – there’s some sort of comprehensive look that Ramiel hasn’t seen on him so far and he thinks that this look means Ramiel will regret if he decides to use the gun on either Charlie or Simon. Wordlessly, he smiles to the other male.

Streets are rusted and rotten, like they’ve been the last time he’s been out and about, too. Nothing ever changes here unless they’re the ones to turn it over. These buildings will still be here tomorrow, barely-standing but enduring. There is no time, no real weather either – there’s nothing in here that would change the old landscape, apart from the human presence.

He notices, a little belatedly and when they’re already entire four streets away, that the building he’s visited first still has the light bulb burning. Nothing disturbs the steady flow of light. Simon’s guess was that those last forever, probably, but he wasn’t exactly sure how come that something didn’t break it already.

The three of them don’t run into trouble – on few occasions, the air is too stale or reeks of blood or something else that Ramiel cannot identify, but Simon assures them they should stay away and they make some unplanned turns, but they’re progressing nicely.

The nice progress comes to a shameful stop when they stand before a pile of crumbled concrete and dust, residual ruins of the a building – the place where it once was situated stands out, but Ramiel cannot see easy and safe way to cross that pile. Who knows what was in the building before it collapsed, aside the fact that they might misstep and just roll down and be buried in stones and debris.

Simon unfolds the map again, takes the pen and describes, in vague details, where they are. He even uses the pen to cross the fallen building down and draws what Ramiel would’ve assumed to be the bridge across the street, if he hadn’t seen the fallen dwelling.

“I have a suggestion.” Charles says even before any of them can ask the famous question – what now? “You’re not going to like it.” He gives in a moment to sink in; he probably thinks about it too, all pursued lips and sighs. “Especially you, Simon. You’re not going to like it at all.”

“It’s gonna take us forever to find a way around this thing.” Ramiel says, already sure that he won’t like the suggestion but willing to try it out if it helps them speed things up. They’ve taken this path because it was a shortcut. The fallen building just—it just made it an endless maze out of the city. “I personally am open to anything.”

Charles points between him and Simon. The two turn around, following the trajectory of his finger to the old, run-down door. It gapes open on its hinges, not even swinging from its own weight. If Ramiel didn’t know what door to jails looked like, he would’ve thought this to be it. The inside of this building is pitch black.

Simon even raises his eyebrow in question. Charles looks like he is clenching his cheeks awkwardly, trying not to smile. Ramiel can see because a dimple’s nearly formed on his cheek. His hand moves up the building – as tall as the one where they live – and glides from the building in question to the one next to it. The one on the other side of their fallen one. The one on the other side of their obstacle.

“Oh, no.” Simon’s the first one to speak. “Oh, hell no. If you think I’m going to—Look. Look! If we were to jump from one building to another, how would we get to the top? The door’s open. This one must be infested with the monsters.”

“Shove off!” Charles seems to be pouting rather than arguing. Not only is it not becoming of somebody of his age, height and build, but also looks silly. Seems like something he would genuinely do. “We’ll figure it out. Besides, we can all shoot—yes, you’ll have to move your ass, Simon, yes. But we’ll pull through. When have these things ever gotten to us, anyway?”

Simon seems to be torn on the inside. Ramiel realises that this decision falls on the doctor.

“Technically—“ When he says it, he seems to be battling with himself, too. “Technically, they never did. But there’s always first time for everything.”

Charles shrugs. His hair, tied in ponytail, comes off his shoulder. There are thin, bright lines running across his neck – scars. Unlike Simon, though, he’s surely not blind. Charles couldn’t have noticed Ramiel looking, because his eyes were trained on Simon the entire time, but it seems like almost unconscious gesture – how he throws the hair back so that it covers the sensitive parts.

“I think we can make it.” Charles says anyway. “I’ll stand on your right, if you wish. What do you say, Ramiel?”

He’s speaking as if though Simon’s agreed already anyway. Ramiel nods, slowly, and that seems to be the tipping point for the other.

“Okay.” The doctor sounds like he’s going to hurt one of them, or himself. “Okay, but you owe me. You owe me big time.”