Plenty of Time

The sky was pitch black and an eerie feeling had settled over the city. Silence permeated the air, all except for the hungry moans coming from below. The infected walked amongst the streets, searching for human flesh to devour and to spread the disease further. It seemed no one had survived the gruesome fate, leaving only the walking dead to occupy what used to be an overpopulated area.

Four people struggled out the window of an apartment complex, jumping down to a lower rooftop. It was easier to make their way across the city skyscrapers than face the danger that lurked below. The cement building appeared empty, so they decided on a much needed break. Louis began to scour the edges, stealing glimpses down into the alleyways below in order to ensure their safety for the time being.

"I'm gonna check out the stairs," Bill stated, heading in the direction of the lone door. He opened it slowly, peering cautiously around the wall, before deeming it safe and stepping inside. Francis shook his head at the old man and took a seat on an empty crate, fishing out a water bottle in the process. He opened the lid and took a few swigs, feeling the cool liquid run down his throat before pooling in his stomach.

Zoey watched him carefully before quietly taking a seat beside him. She pulled out her pistol and glanced it over, making sure it was fully loaded and that it was still in prime working condition. The wind howled around them, carrying the moans of the dead to their ears. A shiver shot down her spine and she bit her lip. Very rarely was she allowed a moment to let her thoughts wander, and it never led to anything good. She recalled the last time she saw her family and friends, their smiling faces forever engraved in her memory. "Do you ever wonder what happened to everyone you knew?" she suddenly asked, breaking the silence.

Francis peered at her out of the corner of his eye, screwing the cap back on his water bottle and setting it beside him. "Every day of this fucking nightmare."

She looked at him. "What if we're the only ones left?" Her tone was filled with fear and dread, voicing the question that had been plaguing her mind since it all began.

He grimaced slightly, but he kept his eyes on the horizon. "It doesn't do us any good to think about such things," was his response, his voice quiet and gruff. With a sigh, he stood and turned to look at her. "There'll be plenty of time for that once we're outta here." He extended his hand and she took it, smiling softly. With a new understanding of friendship between them, they repositioned their weapons and moved toward their comrades, ready to begin the fight anew.