Wanderer of the Apocalypse — Episode I

The sun is high in the sky, not a single cloud is in sight, and yet the air is still chilly. Between the stone buildings and the rain that fell last night, the humidity surrounds me. Half the trees I walk by on the street carry a mix of orange, yellow, and red in their leaves. The other half of the trees are dead. Save from the evergreens, there is no green left in the trees. The bushes have also lost most of their leaves, the only remaining ones are of a sad yellow. The flowers have long died and are merely a memory.

The dead leaves litter the streets and sidewalks, both over the concrete and the water puddles. They also cover the parked vehicles. Leaves have been sitting there for days, untouched. Trash bags pile up in several spots on the sidewalks. Recycle bins are overflowing and lay on the side, their contents scattered over the leaves. There are no moving vehicles on the street, there are no cyclists, no rollerbladers, nor any skateboarders using the bike lane. Even the massive air traffic taking place above the city is absent. Speaking of air, the usual smog has been absent from the city for the past few weeks. It is another sign of human activity’s near-complete stoppage.

I believe today is Tuesday. We are at the end of October. October 27th, 2023, to be precise. Of course, who’s counting, and why does it matter anymore? Normally, this would be the perfect Halloween setup. Except Halloween is out of the question this year… and most likely not for a long time either. Plus, there are no decorations whatsoever. No pumpkins, no fake tombstones, no giant spiders, no plastic skeletons… There only is a creepy atmosphere surrounding whoever’s in the area. Wes Craven could never do any better.

As I move around, I remind myself to be as quiet as possible. I have to avoid all the trash on the ground, avoid walking too fast, or making random noise like walking through a puddle. I do not even have the luxury to listen to music on my phone while I walk, phones that became so useless since the cell network went down in the area. I also cannot distract myself from my surroundings. I need to stay alert at all times.

Maybe I should take that back. Phones aren’t as useless as I would like to think. I can still use my phone to listen to some very quiet music at night or watch one of those movies I downloaded before shit went down. I also use it to orient myself through the city streets, with the built-in GPS… luckily, satellites are still working. I use this thing as a flashlight, and sometimes to take pictures of the environment, you know, in case I make it out alive and want to provide extra data about this.

Phones are useless for me to get in touch with some of the remaining humans in the area, for a few of there are left. Without a network, you cannot easily communicate. Communicating in person is also much harder for me, as I no longer have any neighbors. As for the remaining people I meet, most of them are either dead or are trying to kill me.

Funny enough, I’ve been suicidal for as long as I can remember. Yet, I’ve never had such an intense desire to survive until now. I guess I’m willing to die on my terms, alone. Add to this the survival instinct kicking in on its own no matter what, too. Wasn’t John Kramer from Saw saying something about this…?

I stop walking for a moment, take a pack of Gauloises out of my sling backpack’s strap pocket, take out and light up a cigarette, take a deep puff of it, and forget where I am. I enjoy the moment, something I haven’t done in a while. As I inhale the smoke, I get to enjoy the very unique and strong flavors coming out from this French cigarette, a mix of Turkish and Syrian tobacco. The warm smoke rolls on my tongue and goes down my throat. I hold it for a moment, and then exhale it through my nostrils. I do an eye roll of pure pleasure. Gosh, that tastes good.

I remind myself how much I loved using my Zippo lighter, the one that had a washed-out logo of my favorite NHL team. I sigh as I think about no longer being able to use it outside because of the sound it makes. That thing was solid for lighting up cigarettes, even during windy days. Now, it takes me several tries with my Bic lighters.

A whole lot has changed in the past six months, and I am still having issues adapting to this new reality. The lighter situation is one of those habits I had issues breaking. I had gotten used to the single thumb movement to open the lighter, ignite the flame, and then close the lid with a single handshake movement. There are other things I had to do, such as hold myself from humming as I walk down the streets.

As I smoke, I scrutinize my surroundings. The buildings are all dark. There are no lights anywhere. Most windows are plastered with newspapers and magazines dating from several months back. I can see an ad for a beach party that was supposed to take place this past summer. If it did take place, it was both irresponsible and a hotbed for the pandemic. I also see an ad for a brand new Ford red SUV. It reminds me of when I had my dogs and I opted for that kind of vehicle, mostly for their comfort. All of this is now sitting in the past.

Some other windows have blinds and curtains, most of them are very opaque. Not a single light can go in. Or out. As for the windows that are not covered I do not see anyone peeping out. No one is out on their balconies either. The only thing out there on balconies are chairs, tables, and flower pots.

Further away is a typical intersection of a residential area in this city: on one of the corners there is a seamstress, the second one hosts a restaurant, the third one has a typical convenience store, and the last corner has a pharmacy sitting next to a parking lot. I need to get to the pharmacy first and foremost.

The seamstress, a mom-and-pop shop, looks deserted. No blinds are covering the windows and the view inside is clear. The sun rays easily penetrate inside the shop. No movement can be seen from outside. I would not expect survivors to hang around in such a store, given how people hiding inside would be exposed to passers-by. Judging by how well sorted the things are inside, I can tell the owners were taking good care of their business. Save maybe some winter clothing and fabrics that could be used as extra armor, I might not find a whole lot in there.

As for the convenience store and the pharmacy, I have no way of knowing what awaits me once I get there. Due to my actual position, I cannot see the interior of the pharmacy. I can see the outside sign, though. For what is left of it, it is barely hanging on the wall. My guess is there has been some looting already, and potentially some fighting. Even though I will still look through their supplies, I am not holding my breath over finding what I am looking for.

The pharmacy has a parking lot next to it. In it are to be found the usual trash and recycling dumpsters, as well as several vehicles parked. Most likely these vehicles belonged to customers. Looking at the accumulation of dust and leaves on top of the vehicles, none of them has moved in a while. I might be able to find some of their keys if I remember to search for them. And if I am brave enough to do so. There is also a set of emergency stairs leading up to the apartments and offices above the pharmacy. The stairs are not entirely reaching out to the ground. They are holding up in the air, parallel to the ground, and can only be lowered by having weight put on them. The counterweight lifts back the stairs when there is no weight. That is a clever way of preventing thieves. It is not so clever to have installed the dumpsters next to those stairs.

The convenience store is something else. In addition to my position making it hard to see inside, the store’s windows are covered in ads and promotional signs for ice cream bars, neon lights for some local beers, various magazines, and the national lottery. Typical. Knowing the borough I’m in, I might expect some food and real supplies to be available there.

When the pandemic hit, most people overran grocery stores and the nearby public market, yet largely ignored the smaller convenience stores. You can find about 2,500 of those convenience stores, or dépanneurs as we call them here, on the island. They have been, so far, a pretty reliable source of various supplies. Even the local small grocery, being known to mostly local folks only, has been exempt from looting.

The nearby restaurant, which is maybe 30 feet away from where I stand, right across the intersection, is more interesting. It has a broken front window and the door is still slightly open. I can see the tables were flipped, chairs are laying upside down. The kitchen, which is upfront the restaurant, is a mess: pots lay on the side of the gas range, racks are standing diagonally between the prep tables, the pizza boxes are littering all over the counter. As I scrutinize the scene more and more, I see what seems to be blood covering some of the rare walls and the restaurant’s other windows. It reminds me of blood, mostly due to the splattered patterns. Something being the potential result of gunshots and or slashes, maybe. I knew watching Dexter would prove useful to me one day.

I have shivers running down my spine. It is my fight-or-flight feeling. I instinctively lower my right hand down to my hip and wrap my partially bare fingers around my machete’s hilt and I hold it hard. I start growing extremely nervous, alarmed. Something is wrong.

This is when I see what is wrong, what got me alarmed. It is standing in the middle of the small dining room, barely looking around, aimlessly. I am surprised I did not notice it earlier, considering how small the dining room is. It is in a latent state, waiting for something to attract its attention, so it can start hunting.

Its arms are laying flat on each side of its torso. Its skin is a pale grey. The nails are black, and its hands are crooked. I cannot see its eyes, although I know per experience they are of vivid orange. As it hangs around, I get to have a good glimpse at its face, or what’s left of it. Its gory mouth is wide open, and some dried blood is partially covering its face. I wasn’t wrong for the eyes. The creature is of average built, something around 5'6". It is also wearing some partially shredded jeans and what used to be a white t-shirt. The top is in shambles, and dried blood can be seen on it, too. Finally, it has three wounds, one of them is a torso wound, another one is on one of its arms, and the last one is on its left legs.

I carefully look around me, to see what are my options at this point. So far, there is no one else around except myself and it. This could well change if I make too much noise. The dépanneur is a no-go, as it would require me to enter a new location, and I have no idea of what I will find in that place. Or what will find me, instead. It could be a trap. The seamstress, which is across the street, could be a good hiding place, although, with its windows, I would be quite visible to anyone, and anything, outside. The restaurant itself is out of the question, as I want to avoid engaging with these beings. The pharmacy might be where I will be heading, after all.

I resume walking, slowly, this time keeping my gaze on it. I make my way through the parking lot and walk along the building’s outside wall, still making sure it is where it should be, and that no others are showing up. I turn around the corner and get a good glimpse of the pharmacy.

Some of the windows are broken, yet the security gates are still there, intact. Quite a lot of supplies can be seen from outside: toilet paper, tissues, food, and various cleaning solutions. I move around, to get a better glimpse at what is available. There are several celebrity magazines, hanging on a display near the checkout, along with some months-old newspapers. All sorts of electronics and batteries can be found behind the cash. The cosmetics counter looks well-furnished still. As I look farther away in the store, I cannot see if the pharmacy section has been looted. My guess is it will be well supplied, still. I need to make my way inside. Obviously, without attracting attention. Going through the store’s backdoor might be the best way in.

I turn around and start making my way towards the back alley, through the parking lot. As I turned the corner, I kick a recycle bin I did not see was there. Its contents fly around and come crashing on the ground, making quite a lot of noise. Facepalm. So much for trying to be in stealth mode.

It heard the noise, too. I look back towards the restaurant and I see it slowly coming towards me. With my luck, it will not be alone.

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

My only quick escape route is through those stairs, next to the dumpsters. I dare not go have a look at the back alley, for fear of finding worse waiting for me there. One thing is certain, I will not backtrack home for the time being. I make a break for it and run towards the dumpsters.

Both the side and top lids of the dumpster are closed, so I decide to climb it. As I climb, I cannot help noticing the stench coming out from inside the dumpster. The stench is so strong I choke and cough loudly. It heard it and now has me in its sight. It then emits a sharp scream and continues coming towards me. At this point, I am no longer in a position to be careful about the noise I make.

That was a big mistake.

As I prepare myself to jump, it is now about 20 feet away from me, and still is going at the same pace. I guess the leg wound does slow it down. As for the one in the dumpster, it is something else. One of the lids flips open, revealing a pair of dark hands trying to grab me, and a distorted mouth ready to bite. I lose my balance a little, yet quickly regain it.

One of the hands gets ahold of my ankle and tries to bring me inside the dumpster. I stay steady, take my machete and go for a direct hit towards its wrist holding my ankle. It is now furious after me. As it tries to jump out of the dumpster to catch me, I swing my weapon towards its head, killing it instantly. I pull out my blade as the corpse falls back into the trash.

One down. How many are left? I hear a thud and feel the dumpster vibrating. Ah, yes, there is still the first one. I was about to forget.

It tries to grab me by my ankle, as the previous one did. It seems to be a certain pattern, and I make a mental note of it. With my current position, I can allow myself a few seconds to aim. As it relentlessly tries to grab me, I send my machete straight in the middle of its face. It was enough to make it stop. I put one of my feet on it and pull the blade out. The corpse collapses on the ground.

Today’s kill count is now 2.

I got lucky this time.

I look around quickly and I see no one else, nothing else in my immediate surroundings. I put my machete back where it belongs, finally make the jump towards the stairs, and land on the side of the rail. As I hit the rail, so does my machete and does a loud clang. With some effort, I manage to get over it and start going up. The stairs, which had started lowering as I was trying to get over the rail, go back up.

Seeing there is still nothing else moving outside, I crouch and look inside of a window. This is the lab level of the pharmacy. I force the window open, without breaking it, and slide inside.

I made it inside, not without gargantuan efforts. The lab level was relatively quiet, and while I did look around, I did not see anything useful for me at this time. I locate the stairs and go down towards the store section. I am still being extremely careful with the noise I make, in case I would not be alone in the area. I wonder which I would like to see the most, other looters or those creatures? I reach the ground level and start looking around. As I go through the aisles for initial scouting, I confirm I am indeed alone.

I was a dumb stupid bitch once at my local retail store, you know, the one which operates in the automotive, hardware, sports, leisure, and housewares sectors. I won’t do the same mistake again.

I take mental notes of what is available and what I can carry with me back home: crackers, granola bars, juices, energy drinks, canned meals and soups, cat food, cleaning wipes, various combustibles, disinfecting wipes and solutions, and first aid kits. Luckily, it seems I am indeed all alone. It is surprising, as I was, and always am, expecting to see someone or something, show up.

I go back to all the aisles where I saw the supplies, and fill in the second backpack I brought with me. I am also careful not to overfill it, else it will slow me down if I have to run. I pass by the cosmetics counter and decide to grab a few lipsticks. It’s not because it’s a pandemic I won’t be cute for when I need a self-esteem boost. I also grab some of those celebrity and fashion magazines along the way. It is a very small pharmacy, so it takes me roughly ten minutes to stock up on supplies.

I turn my attention towards the pharmacy counter, which stands at the opposite end of the store. The area is partially shrouded in the shadows, yet I should be able to locate what I need without too much trouble. There is still enough daylight coming through the windows, so I will avoid using my phone’s flashlight. I do not want to give out my position, should there be other looters outside.

I am happy to finally have reached a part of my daily goal, and start looking around in the pharmacy section for my much-needed medical supplies: bandages, ibuprofen, various pain killers and narcotics, syringes, several vials, and so on. I grab what I need, and stuff it all in my sling backpack.

After filling up my bags with pretty much all I could carry, I decided to take a well-earned rest for a few minutes and have one of those organic energy drinks I found. It is lukewarm. Still, it will do.

As I sit on the floor and lean back against some of the shelves, I can only think about the last emergency messages which were broadcast all over on the radio and on cellphones during the final days of our civilization. Broadcasting them on cellphones was a mistake, especially since the devices all emitted a blaring alarm sound when the messages were received, despite phones being in quiet mode. I even had to go into developer mode on my device to prevent the emergency broadcast from overriding my personal settings.

The broadcasts went as follow:

“This is a state of emergency message, broadcasted at the request of the Federal Government. Stay indoors and avoid going out at all times. Make sure you have enough food and water to last one to two weeks. Avoid having any contact with strangers. Avoid having any contact with anyone infected or presenting flu-like symptoms. Avoid contact with open wounds, blood, and other bodily fluids. Wash your hands regularly. We will continue to offer regular updates on the status of the situation.”

It was scary enough to hear those messages, more so after seeing what was happening in the streets. I found it to be even scarier to see the federal government taking over the nationwide alert system. Between people fighting over toilet paper, and those saying “tHe PaNdEmIc Is A hOaX”, I guess this is how shit went down with our now-defunct civilization.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Unless otherwise indicated, all the names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents in this story are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.