Chapter 2 : THE MAN IN THE ALLEY

The next morning I woke up with a plan.

Thirty days. This was all the time I had! There was no time for tears and regrets. All the time Jason was already dead to me. All I could think about was how to survive.

I picked up my cell phone and made a list. So I had an editor in my head, a voice that barely reminded me of myself, but that had sustained me in my former life: and that voice whispered the essentials. Water. Food. Weapons. Medicine. Warm clothing. Fuel.

First, I had to have a base though.

The city would be a killing field within a week's time. Too much people, too much zombies, too much desperate survivors who would kill to obtain a can of beans. I had to go somewhere away from others. Somewhere defensible. In an area no one would predict.

I drove up for three hours, out of the suburbia and into the mountains. I'm driving my old Jeep through the winding roads until I find one, a small little abandoned cabin in the woods. It was dusty, had creaky floorboards, a leaky roof, and a functional well but had a stone fireplace and good sight lines in all directions.

It was perfect.

I negotiated the price down with the owner and paid him in cash; I signed the documents at the time. I suppose he believed I was a bonkers urban lady pursuing a country lifestyle. He didn't realize that I was getting ready for the end of the world.

At noon I was back in the city, in the middle of a large wholesale warehouse.

I bought 3 trolleys of instant noodles. Then another three. Purchased bottles of water, canned meat, dried fruit, and protein bars. I purchased a small gas stove, a water purifier and the minimum medical supplies required to establish a small clinic.

Next I got to the hardware section.

I purchased a hunting knife, a baseball bat, a taser and two hundred bolts for my crossbow. When I got to rope, duct tape, flashlights, and an adequate supply of batteries to keep a small village going. I purchased warm blankets, waterproof boots and a tent capable of withstanding a hurricane.

I moved one by one into my 10 sq. m. space. The goods disappeared into the air and stacked themselves as they were to be perfectly arranged in my invisible warehouse. It was simple. Grounded. Satisfying.

The cashier looked as though he was crazy. I simply smiled and touched my card.

It was near dusk when I was tired out. I got outside my jeep at this little restaurant on the outskirts of town just wanting to get a hot meal before heading back to the cab.

It was then that I saw him.

In the alley that was adjacent to the diner, there was a man lying down against the wall whose dark hair was covered in blood. He was wearing a leather jacket and had a deep cut down his arm. He seemed to come out of a battle.

My immediate reaction was to carry on walking. The person I was in a past life, I had the experience of being a big help to strangers in the apocalypse and it ended in a death sentence.

Then he lifted his eyes, though.

His eyes were keen and cold and a stunning blue. Their eyes fixed on mine as if my breath had stopped.

Please help me," he whispered. "Please."

I should have walked away, I should have listened. I should have been in my Jeep and drive right to the cabin.

Instead, I knelt down next to him.

What happened to you? Taking out the first-aid kit from my bag I asked,

He sneered a sour laugh. It's the very same individuals who will set this city on fire.

My blood ran cold. "What do you mean?"

He caught my wrist in his grasp, which was surprisingly strong. “They know,” his eyes blazing with urgency. “They know what is going to happen and they're going to ensure that no one else makes it.”

Before I could ask another question, a black SUV screeched to a halt at the end of the alley. Four men came out, their faces impassive, their suits dark.

“All of them were staring right at us.