The elderly twoleg peered out of the cloudy window, eyes slitted as he tried to make out his surroundings. Strays milled around the streets. The twoleg slumped back into his springy couch, swallowing a cough. Everything ached. His head throbbed and his head spun.
I'm the last human. The words lingered in his mind like a fly buzzing around his ears.
The twoleg population dropped ever since the foreign disease. He too was infected by the disease, but remained alive.
The twoleg struggled to a standing position, his mind whirling as his meaty hands reached for the rusty doorknob. He bumped into a wooden table and knocked off a TV remote that was no longer useful. Dots and blurs sprang into his vision, making him clumsy.
The click of the door slammed the twoleg back into reality. He slowly opened the door and was greeted with gray light.
His eyes adjusted to the gloom. Clouds loomed overhead, heralding a rainstorm that he might never see.
Out of the throng of cats, the twoleg spotted the plump brown she-cat he met a while ago. He named her Nutmeg. Determined to reach the gorgeous queen, he stumbled down the concrete stairs. A chill squeezed his body, but he knew it was warm outside despite the clouds swirling above.
The twoleg halted. He was unable to muster the energy to continue his walk to the she-cat. He settled on the surface of the second to last stair and released a coughing fit.
His hands trembled and his body shook with coughs. The twoleg longed for warmth. "Nutmeg?" He rasped. He was still able to gaze at the she-cat. She was chatting with a flame colored tom-cat with interest flashing in her eyes. Hearing the twoleg's call, she paused. Nutmeg flicked her bright gaze to the elderly twoleg and perked her ears.
The twoleg watched with a strange feeling of comfort as Nutmeg weaved through the mass of cats and approached him.
Disguising his pain, the twoleg brushed his hand over the she-cat's fluffy pelt. "I don't feel alone now," the twoleg breathed. Nutmeg replied with a rumbling purr. The twoleg smiled weakly and touched the belly of the she-cat. "I see good future in your kittens." The twoleg coughed out the words.
A jolt passed through him and his eyelids grew heavy. The twoleg fell back, his breathing labored. Nutmeg's eyes widened as the twoleg jerked once then fell still, nothing moving.
Nutmeg pawed the limp body, wearing a frown. It was over. The stench of death filled her nose and she recoiled. Jake padded up to her and brushed his fur with hers. "It's just a twoleg, Nutmeg." Jake mewed, eyeing the dead twoleg body. "But I liked him!" Nutmeg cried, her tail drooping.
"Well, what did he say?" Jake questioned. The flame colored feline remembered seeing the lips of the elder twoleg move tediously.
Nutmeg paused thoughtfully, her tail curling. "I'm not really sure," she admitted sheepishly. "I think he said something about my kits, though."