A Week

I'd seen him several times, his cap was distinguishable enough, that and the fact that he was quite clearly alive. It had come close, I was desperate to avoid as many people as possible, and since there were few very left within the city of Atlanta I tended to do a good job.

After a while I could no longer put it down to coincidence, we were targeting the same abandoned stores, and wherever he was based outside the city sent him in at least once a week.

I was alone now, that was both good and bad. I had no-one left to lose, no more pain to strike at me unexpectedly and if we're honest, it's a hell of a lot easier to stay alive without having to worry about someone else making a mistake. Of course this works both ways.

After seeing him for the sixth time, again at the camping store on Jubilee and Third I decided to follow him. I was intrigued, I was envious. He ends up in an apartment block that I often visit, it's a good through way to other routes and there's a series of boarded up doors and paths created between windows.

Six weeks ago, if I do have the right date, there must have had about forty people staying here, three weeks ago it was twelve. It's empty now, only me and I choose not to stay here, there's too many memories. A couple of corpses. It's still a half decent place for supplies though, I've taken the majority of useful things over the last fortnight but it's a big place, and there are apartments which remain untouched.

I catch him coming out of one, raising my pistol so he goes cross eyed looking at it. “Whoa, hey, whoa!” He's younger than I thought, on that cusp of boy to man. His eyes are wide, as either hand lift up in surrender. “You don't...” he stammers, “Can you...”

I'm breathing as heavily as he is. “I keep seeing you.” I say simply, annoyed more so at the tremble in my words. “Why?”

“What?” If he's faking he's a good actor so I make sure I keep the gun in place. “I'm with a group, out of the city, I come in and get supplies when we need them.”

“Why just you?”

“I'm quickest, I know the city – I mean I used to be a pizza boy!” His words slur, panic evident but that little detail helps. I lower the gun, it's easy enough to tell now, he's not a threat to me. “What are you looking for then, pizza boy?”

“Supplies.” He answers instantly, “And well,” once the gun is shoved back into the holster his voice becomes stronger. “You.” He tries to gage my reaction and it's a struggle to keep my face placid. “I've seen you about, I know you've seen me. And you're by yourself so I just wanted to speak and...”

“What makes you think I'm by myself?” He doesn't need to answer this, the pitiful look I get in return is enough. “Fine, you found me. What do you want?”

“We have a camp, not far outside the city. It's safe, plenty of families.” His voice is monotone, rehearsed. I wonder just how many times he ran through this speech in his head, “It's a hell of a lot safer than Atlanta.”

“I'm doing okay.”

“I see that.” There's a hint of humour in his words, and I feel my resolve lessening. “Look, Atlanta's gone, there's nothing here any more. You can't stay here!”

“I'm fine.” He shakes his head a little, and I don't give him the chance for an onslaught of comments about my chances. I'm well aware of them, I'd lost everyone else so was only expecting the same thing at some point. He stumbles over the words and I sigh a little, checking the straps on my backpack and walking further down the hallway. He follows me, of course he does, although he doesn't say much at this point. I stop near an open window, there's a fire escape about seven feet below that you can use to get into the next building. That's my plan. I'm scavenging. I'm moving where I'm staying again, heading further out from the center of the dead.

Pizza boy is absolutely right. The city is dead, limited supplies have all but dwindled. Why am I still here?

I have nowhere else to go was the simple answer.

We'd started off in our neighbourhood, headed to the refugee centre in the city once Dad had died. That had been overrun, the bombs had dropped on the suburbs. I didn't even have the option to go home and fight it out there.

“Listen,” He stops me when I'm half way through the window. “I'm coming back in a few days with a group,” he doesn't look happy about this, “I can't gather what we need by myself.” I drop back into the hallway, arms folded. It stings the deep bruise that has bled across my forearm. He reaches round and swings his backpack to the floor, instinctively – because that's what it has become now. I rest my hand on my pistol. I didn't intend on using it, it was a precious waste of ammo and far too loud.

I would if I had too. I'd had to before. Acid swelled up from my stomach and I keep on the balls of my feet as he rummaged through the random objects within. “Here.” I release my hand, wiping the sweat from my palm on my jeans as he pulls out a radio. “It's long distance, I always bring one in in-case I have any trouble. New batteries too.” He holds it out in front of him, as if I'm a stray dog likely to bite. I step forward and take is gently, scanning over it. “I mean it, I keep it on channel two cause that tends to be clearest, you probably won't be able to reach the camp from here but I want you to have it, okay? Just in-case.”

“And what if I radio you?”

“I'll do what I can.” My mouth is dry and I run my tongue over my lower lip. It's an odd gesture, inviting me to a camp, giving me a form of communication. “You don't even know me.” It slips out, my thoughts verbal. His eyes narrow, carefully scanning over me. I managed to have a wash yesterday, found a water cooler in an office. I don't look as bad as I could but I know I don't look great. I haven't slept more than a couple of hours a time in over a week, not since Ella died. I feel the tears try and flood my eyes and blink them back fiercely.

If he's noticed he doesn't say anything about it, instead he's shifting from foot to foot, fidgeting with his dumb baseball cap. “No, I don't.” He admits, “And I do think you're a bit of a dumbass to be staying in Atlanta still.”

Against myself this makes me laugh, peals of laughter that sound far too loud in the silent hallway. “Maybe.” I admit, the tension seeming to drain from my limbs.

“It's an option. We wouldn't turn you away.”

“What if I turn out to be some deranged killer?”

“We've all done bad things.” He could say that again and it's easy to wonder what exactly pizza boy had done when his jaw tightens. “Thank you.” I spit it out, make it sound as polite as possible, “For this,” I wave the radio at him, “I'll keep it on channel two.”

“Promise?” I smile at him again, repeating the word.

“Good luck with your next run. Don't go anywhere near Buckhead. They all seemed to have gathered there lately. Like some sort of swarm or something.”

“Thanks. I'll let Shane know.” He watches my face, “Sorry, he's sorta running things.”

“Oh, right.” I slip the radio into the side pocket of my bag, hitching it up again. It's afternoon now, and I want to be back in the apartment I'm currently calling home before it either gets dark or rains. It's been raining a lot lately, which is odd in itself. It wasn't a comforting omen. “Thanks again, I'll erm...”

“I'll see you around...” He trails off, and it takes me a couple of seconds to realise what he's waiting for.

“Oh, Lily.” He nods, telling me his name is Glenn. It has a nicer ring to it then pizza boy.

“You heading back out?” He nods, I give him a less risky route knowing he enters from the east side of the city. “Cool, cool, thanks. I'll erm... Bye Lily.”

“Bye Glenn.”

I hold the button down hard, “Glenn, are you on this thing?” There's a crackle in response and my cheek bears the brunt of my irritation, the metallic taste lingering. “Hey, Pizza boy!”

“L...Lily?” The relief is odd but warming. I'd thought about him a lot over the last week, berated myself for not accepting his offer. Especially when I had run into those three men a few days back. I had a new gun to show for that, a decent one, with a scope. I had a lot else too. I clear my throat, the lump sticking and speak again. “You in town?”

“Yeah....w....why?” The signal seems stronger, so he can't be too far away.

“I don't know if you can see from where you are, but I'm near the tank on Eighteenth and there's a guy riding towards it on a horse.”

“What?” His reaction sounds exactly like my own. But it was true, there was some idiot in what looked like a police uniform trotting happily down on a horse. He was starting to get a trail of the dead too, and the way he was heading was not clever. In a couple of minutes he'd be right in the latest square the dead occupied.

“Yeah...”

“A horse?!”

“Yeah and he shit!...” The number of dead swarm and I lean further out of the window. “Shit, the horse is down, he's running for the tank.” I grabbed the gun and leant on the windowsill. I take careful aim, and the gun is loud, bounces back against my shoulder more than I had expected. That didn't matter, one of the dead fell and the man looked around desperately for the cause of the shot. I could yell, but he wouldn't hear me over the groaning. I shoot a couple more times, but I can't see him from here now and I need to get either higher or lower.

I don't want to watch another person die.

My heart was pounding and I chose up, swinging onto the fire exit and scurrying up towards the roof. I can see better now, the dead are swarming. “Wait, wait I can see!” Glenn sounds as worried as I am, “Not much we can do but he's under the tank... or in the tank...”

“They won't get in there.” I breathe, finding my chest heaving. “If he waits them out he should be okay.”

“I reckon I can reach him on here.” He muses, he sounds out of breath as well. “I've left the others. I wanna see if I can. Hold on.”

“Don't...” I stop, he doesn't respond, and a few long minutes pass before there's a burst of action. The man comes out of the tank. “Lily, we're heading for the building next to you, can we get up from the alley?”

“Yeah, there's an escape ladder, it's unlocked and down.” I urge, “I'll get across.” There's no time, and still an air of panic as the sounds of the monsters increases. I loop round to the right side of the building, using a balcony to give me an edge and jumping across. It's not a long jump, and I catch the rail but scratch up both of my arms and one leg. “Idiot better be worth it.” I allow myself to mutter, curse words following and run up the service stairs. When I burst onto the rooftop there are two bodies, both wheezing. Glenn and a guy I see is indeed in a sheriffs uniform.

“What the hell was that?” I burst, unable to control it. “Who the fuck comes in on a horse?”

“Lily.” Glenn warns, cap on once again.

“Was that you with the shots?” The strangers asks and I nod, tempted to untie the gun from my bag. “Come on, we need to move!” Glenn urges.

“Thank you." The older man pants.

“No problem,” I spit, I'm annoyed now he's safe. Annoyed at how reckless and plan stupid his behaviour was. I'd lost people for far less and yet he was here, we'd put ourselves on the line for him, “I always dreamed of wasting my ammo on some jackass with a death wish...”

“Lily, come on, shut it and move.” I did as Glenn said and he continued, crossing from the back of the building to another over a wide ledge.

“You the ones who blocked the alley?”

I let Glenn respond, swallowing down a wider scope of insults. “Nah, somebody else did, I guess when the city got overrun, whoever did it was thinking...not many geeks get through.”

“With the tank, why’d you both stick your neck out for me?” I roll my eyes, Glenn tore open an escape hatch, dropping his bag down, “Call it foolish naive hope, I just hope if I’m ever that far up shit creek somebody might do the same for me, but I guess they’d have to be an even bigger dumbass than you. Come on, we need to get back to the others.”

The others. I'd been so caught up I hadn't thought about the implication of my actions. Glenn had more people here, that must be today. I was going to follow him to them. This was it, I couldn't be by myself anymore.

I had to trust him.