Floating by

It began vibrating once again. Aziz removed the necklace and squeezed it in his palm. He closed his eyes and listened. It wasn’t just a regular, continuous vibration. There was something else to it. As if the heart-shaped locket was trying to whisper something. He placed it next to his ear, but no sound came out other than what can be described as a perpetual inhaling.

Patches growled, and Aziz opened his eyes.

“What’s the matter, girl?” he whispered. The corgi looked to the right, and Aziz understood her concern. A Jumper was approaching. They hid behind a rusted car covered in moss and stayed silent. Aziz peeked through the shattered window at the four-legged creature advancing. Its skin was grey, not black, and it was moving at a slower pace than others. It must’ve been ancient. He chose his bow over his pistol and pulled an arrow out of the quiver. He aimed and released. For a second, the bolt replaced the locket’s vibration before lodging itself in the Jumper’s throat. The creature roared before giving its last breath. Aziz approached and retrieved his arrow.

Patches barked in excitement, a trained bark that wasn’t too loud to be heard from afar.

“Thank you, girl.” Aziz stroked her head. “You saved my butt again.”

He grabbed the necklace once more and listened.

“Is it you somehow?” he mumbled. “Did you find a way back to me?” The locket continued to vibrate. It only stopped when they reached Covent Garden, and the sky turned dark.

It was a full moon that night, which Patches hated. They found shelter in an abandoned theatre nearby, inside a tall room where the fungi haven’t yet reached. Aziz removed the dog’s little backpack and took out the food leftovers. Carrots, potatoes and some pork shoulder. That was going to be their last meal before they’d entirely run out. He was worried but not discouraged. They were going to find more—the never-ending quest to keep starvation at bay. If anyone was to die, it was him, not the corgi. He chose to embark on this journey. Patches was just too stubborn for her sake and decided to follow him. As much as Aziz would’ve preferred to have her remain in the settlement, safe behind the thick walls, he was glad that she was there. Not only because she saved him time and time again, but also for the company, for the laughs, for love.

Aziz handed her half of the rations, and they both ate in silence. As soon as she finished, Patches found a corner and curled up in a ball, looking like a mini-doughnut.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t get himself to sleep just yet, so he found his way to the roof. It was once an open space with round tables, comfortable chairs and umbrellas to shield from the weather. People would gather and sip on wines and cocktails, waiting for the second part of the musicals to commence. Aziz grabbed a chair and placed it next to the edge of the theatre from where he could see the entire street leading down to the river. On the other side, there used to be restaurants. The buildings were damaged and covered in mushrooms and weeds, but there were still posters on the windows, still signs at the top of each restaurant, whose aim were to attract as many customers as possible. One read “Authentic American BBQ”, another “Best sushi in London.”

But that wasn’t his world. That used to be his mother’s world. His father’s. Not his. His was more challenging, reclaimed by nature, covered in vines and giant, multi-coloured fungi. His was a constant battle for crops and meat that was untouched by whatever poison the mushrooms released. Aziz stared at the moon, at its perfectly round shape, at the random lunar craters around it and, as he did every other night, prayed for a better future.

The morning greeted them with a bang. And another after that, and several others after. Patches growled, and Aziz signalled at the path that led to the roof. They rushed upstairs and looked down at the entrance. A Crawler and a Jumper were trying to break through the door.

“Let’s do this quietly, okay, girl?”

The corgi said nothing. Aziz unzipped his bag and allowed the dog to jump inside. He placed it back on his shoulders and ran to the emergency exit - a long metal ladder.

“Let’s hope it can hold us.”

Patches licked the back of his head. As Aziz descended, he heard the beasts breaking through and quickly roaming around the place. Thankfully, the ladder was sturdier than it looked, and they made it to the ground. They moved down a narrow alleyway and reached Waterloo Bridge.

That’s when the heart-shaped locket started to vibrate once more.

“It’s you. I just know it,” he whispered to the wind. “I’m nearly there, my love.”

Aziz placed the dog down, and together, they advanced along the river. Even though covered in algae, the river was beautiful. A mass of green water that divided London in two. Seagulls flew in circles above a graveyard of wrecked ships, squealing as loud as they could. Aziz was sure that they were as hungry as he was. He took his bow out hoping that one of them would come close enough. Even if that were to happen, he couldn’t eat the bird right away. Most living animals were infected. He would need specific substances and machines that he had back in the human settlement to purify them.

Patches barked slightly, signalling for him to look at the river. A red bus, half emerged underwater, was rapidly guided by the currents. They watched for a while before resuming their journey.

“Oh, how busy this street must’ve been once, Patches,” said Aziz as if talking to an old friend. “With tourists everywhere, taking pictures after pictures, eating ice cream on a sunny day and enjoying life at its fullest.”

The dog barked quietly and rushed behind a broken bench.

“What’s the matter, girl?”

Patches sniffed around a tall plant before barking again and wiggling her tail.

“What do we have here?” Aziz pulled out a knife and chopped it leaf by leaf.

“Are you sure?”

Patches barked in agreement.

“Bon appetite then.”

He diced one of the leaves, and the dog started eating. He grabbed another and took a bite. It tasted awful - like spoiled milk. Regardless, it would keep them fed.

“Good girl, Patches.”

She wiggled her tail and rubbed her head against his thigh. He placed the rest of the leaves in her backpack and stroked her belly.

“Good to go?”

Patches barked.

Minutes later, they reached Westminster tube station, and the medallion vibrated stronger than before.

“Yes, we’re getting there, my love. It’s only the river between us now.”

They went up a set of stairs and rapidly crossed the bridge, stopping in front of what used to be a massive hospital on the right. Unfortunately, many letters were missing from the building, the name now spelling ‘St. omas’.

Aziz couldn’t hold it any longer and cried. He cried tears that were stuck inside him for the past eleven years. He did not try to stop or wipe them off; instead, he allowed himself to feel everything. Patches slightly whimpered next to him.

“I’m okay, girl,” he managed to say.

They made their way through a fence created to keep Jumpers out and approached an old, no longer functional fountain.

“I’m here.”

The vibration intensified to the point where it was the only thing he could hear. Aziz approached the massive oak tree, uncovered by fungi, and sat next to a metal sign that spelt ‘Peter Jones’. He placed his palms on the soil in front of it.

“I’m sorry, Pete,” mumbled Aziz amidst cries. “That it took me so... fucking long to come back. I was a coward.” He lay on his back and closed his eyes. The vibrations of the medallion filled his body. Made him warm. It was almost like a hug. From him. From his beloved Pete.

He woke up at sunset when Patches was pulling on his vest. A sound came from outside the fence. Instantly, he grabbed his bow and pointed in the direction of the noise. Another Jumper. He loaded and released. The arrow missed, which agitated the Jumper. He pulled another one out, aimed it at the creature and fired. He missed again. Aziz’s heartbeats were intensifying. He wasn’t one to fumble.

The Jumper made its way through the fence and plunged on top of him. Aziz grabbed the creature by the front legs and pushed back as much as he could, trying to keep its fangs away from his face. Patches jumped on the creature’s back and bitten the back of its neck. Aziz managed to push the beast off him using his legs and ran towards the hospital. The dog followed closely; the Jumped did too. He loaded another arrow and, just as the beast charged at him, released it in its throat. The Jumper fell on its back before running around chaotically. Eventually, it stopped and passed away.

Aziz exhaled heavily, his heart pounding through his chest. Patches moved around his legs, wiggling her little tail.

“I’m happy to be alive too, girl. Thank you.”

When he finally calmed down, he realised that the medallion wasn’t just vibrating but also beating. He lifted the locket in the air and pointed it in the direction of the grave. The beating ceased. He then moved it towards the hospital and it resumed. Something was in there.

It was on the fifth floor that the vibrations stopped completely, allowing the beat to pump harder. Aziz stood in front of an office, reading the name on the door. ‘Dr. Peter B. Jones’. He inhaled strongly and made his way inside. The office looked as he remembered it. Papers and books scattered everywhere, sticky notes still on the window and a blackboard covered in chalk. He couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Why was the medallion beating harder there then? Why did the vibrations stop?

Aziz approached the bookcase in the corner when the beatings disappeared too. He slowly placed his backpack down and pushed the cabinet as hard as he could. It slid to the side, revealing a thick metal door, in the middle of which a heart-shaped hole was carved. His hands trembled. He nervously swallowed and placed the medallion inside the hole. A perfect fit.

A mechanism inside clicked, and the door opened.

The room was small, with a desk, a chair and a window inside. There was a tablet in the middle of the desk and a stack of photos on one side. Aziz grabbed one, and tears instantly roamed down his cheeks. They were all photos of them. Of him and Pete. Scavenging, eating lunch, drawing, being in that same hospital, photos back in the safety of the human settlement. There must’ve been hundreds and hundreds. He noticed a yellow sticky pad in front of the tablet that read ‘power source under’.

Aziz looked below the desk, and there it was. He pressed the red button that activated the source, and the tablet lit up within seconds. He sat on the chair and tapped the screen. A folder titled ‘my love’ was in the middle. Aziz opened it, and lots of videos of Pete appeared. He rubbed his sweaty palms on his trousers before playing the first one.

The warm tone of Pete’s voice filled the room, and Aziz cried again.

“Hey, sexy devil,” said Pete. “I’m glad to see that you found my little project. A room of memories in case something bad happens to me. Well, I guess something bad did happen to me as you are watching this. It’s bizarre thinking about it but never mind… this is about you and for you. Please listen to all of them, preferably in order. I recorded quite a lot of them… you know, to have you trapped in here for a long while, thinking of me.” Pete’s laughter intensified Aziz’s cries. “Now… Buckle up, get the popcorn and press play.”