I motioned for Glenn to follow as I went to the couch and dropped my bag beside the coffee table.

He followed, pulling his backpack off the counter and took the seat next to me.

I haphazardly cleared off the dark wooden coffee table; the first piece of furniture I ever owned.

I unzipped my backpack, grabbed a pen & paper off the table, and started noting everything in my bag; Making a separate note for things to put in them still.

Staying here is a bad idea, but if there are more people out there like those downstairs, running through the streets in this chaos is a sure-fire way to get us both killed; especially since it'll be dark soon.

"Our priority needs to be getting these ready so when it's time to go, we move. We can't hesitate."

"Okay." Glenn nodded, breath still rapid but significantly steadier than before. "But when we leave, where do we go?"

We can't go back down the stairs with those people down there. Assuming they are still down there and not wandering all over the building by now.

I pulled out my lighter and grabbed the pack of crayons I tossed off my coffee table. I don't even remember where I got these.

The streets are teaming from what that news chopper showed. The screen was just black streams broken up by orange and separated by grey squares—…

Because there's no one on the roofs. That's our way outta here.

Choosing a random purple crayon, I cut the top off with a pair of scissors.

I waved the flame over the bottom and stuck the crayon to a random piece of junk mail, and lit the purple paper at the top I decapitated.

"We've gotta get outta the city." I finally answered, realizing I've been quiet for too long.

"And go where?" Glenn asked

"Somewhere with the least amount a people."

Fastest way out is the highway, but no doubt it'll be jam packed with the cars of everyone who had the exact same idea.

It might actually be faster to go on foot— not that we have a choice in the first place for starters.

My Harley-Davidson can fit two. That's probably our best option for getting out of the city.

Ugh, I had to choose yesterday to take it into the shop, didn't I?

I was supposed to go pick it up tonight, so at the very least it's ready to go. Assuming it's even still there.

If we can just get to two blocks down to the shop, w'll be good to go.

It's meant for urban terrain though, not long distance; and a motorcycle doesn't have any protection whatsoever.

That's risky with the riots and...cannibals.

Okay. If we have an opportunity to get another vehicle, we'll take it but if not, that's our only option.

I sparked my lighter and set up another crayon; red this time. The purple one still had a little bit to go but the flame went out just a few seconds after I lit the red one.

I sighed, blowing air out my mouth and sat on the floor in front of the couch. We should wait till morning to move.

I don't know why this is the go-to when you're distressed; Sit on the floor instead of the furniture, but whatever the reason I hope it helps.

Glenn sank down next to me, letting his legs stretch out beside mine; just far enough that our shoes are almost touching.

There are 3 floors above this one, four units per floor, at least one person per unit. There's no way to to know for certain how many of those...people, are out there.

There's only one main staircase for the whole building. How do we get up there without running into a nasty surprise?

I've gotta assume the entire building's residence are dangerous; whether they've fallen victim to those things or not.

Mmm, getting to the roof won't be easy. I scrubbed my hand over my face; chewing my bottom lip.

It would help if I knew what those people have become. I'm long past the point of hoping this is all some sick joke.

Nobody could survive what that cheekless woman did to that man.

If this were a movie it'd be easy to chalk it up to camerawork and some nice special effects, but up close…

I don't care if it's crazy, I know what I saw. No living person could just walk away from disembowelment.

I shook my head.

That sounds...familiar. Where have I heard that before?

Ahsh— I scratched my nails across my scalp, shaking my hair out.

It was recent. I know I've heard those words before. 'Can't just walk away from...'

Was I watching the news? No, no, it was a comment on something. A video comment.

Ah! That video I was sent Thursday, of the police shooting.

That homeless guy who attacked the officer, and was shot 10 times in the chest.

Could these be related to that incident? I mean that sparked the riots all over the country; it wasn't just happening here, there has been a lot of police shootings in the news as of late.

It's too similar to be a coincidence.

How did they stop that guy— I don't— was it a headshot? I remember a slew of comments about a headshot.

I heaved another sigh, dropping my head and caught sight of the food stain that happened right after I bought this shitty little table.

That brings back memories. I shifted to pull my legs up and hang my arms over my knees at my elbows.

Just me; alone in my first apartment. Nothing aside from this very backpack, a box or two, an old table lamp, and a couch cushion under my butt as I sat on the floor with my take out.

"Soo, uh..."

I looked at Glenn, watching his throat bob with an anxious swallow.

"You know my name but I never got yours." he looked at me, brown eyes drowning; begging for distraction.

"Rider. Evelyn Rider."

"You live here alone?" he glanced around, as if expecting someone else to suddenly walk down the hall.

I nodded and silence fell again. He fixated on his fingers in his lap, squeezing and releasing his fists.

This is gonna get awkward fast. He might start panicking if I don't keep him busy.

"What about you?"

Brown eyes came back to mine in confusion.

"Is there someone waiting for you at home?" I clarified.

"Oh— no..." He glanced back at his hands with a shaky lip quirk. "I'm ah— no, there's no one at home."

A breathy chuckle escaped me before I could stop it.

No need to get so flustered, kid. 'Ts just a question. But that sounded like he was thinkin' about someone though.

"Somewhere else then?"

"What?" He looked like he'd been caught in a lie, for half a second; opening and closing his mouth so much, you'd think he belongs in a fish tank.

"There is this— was this, girl."

I smiled. Now we're getting somewhere.

I listened to Glenn talk while I did my best to make food out of the perishables in the fridge but without the stove I had to get creative with a few candles and other kitchen supplies.

Somehow it's relaxing my nerves to listen to him go on and on. The things he's talking about have no real relevance. I've got a feeling he's just sayin' whatever comes to mind, but if this helps keep him calm, I'm all ears.

I haven't said much the last two hours since I poked about that girl he liked, but he doesn't seem to mind my lack of input.

I handed him his plate, as I sat down again.

I didn't realize how hungry I was until I shoveled the first forkful past my biters.

I was a bit worried about not being able to eat after the scene in the lobby earlier but my stomach is apparently stronger than I thought.

It didn't take long for both of us to devour our food. I mean leftover Chinese and bacon & eggs is an odd combination but it's surprisingly alright put together.

I got back to setting up our packs as soon as I cleaned my plate and pushed it aside.

We still have a number of hours before daylight though. Assuming my phone's clock is still right; even without service.

"You should try to get some sleep. This may be the last chance we get for a while."

"I don't think I could sleep if I wanted to." he muttered, lighting another crayon and drawing in the wax of the melted ones with a paperclip.

I stood up and went to the hall closet, pulling out every blanket and pillow I've got. I'm a bit of a hoarder for these so it took a few minutes.

"What're you doing?"

I scattered the blankets and pillows on the floor, all around the coffee table and beside the couch.

I held up one finger before searching around for the velvet pouch I know is here somewhere.

It actually was a good idea to keep these for all years. I'm glad I kept them around.

I sat down at the coffee table, pushing things aside and pulled the cards outta the pouch.

"Blackjack or Go fish?" I started shuffling.

Glenn chuckled, and took off his cap, dropping it on the table. "Go fish"

I smiled and dealt the cards.

A good hour passed and things grew silent; nothing but the sound of even breathing to fill the apartment.

Glenn's cheek squished against his cards on the table. It looks uncomfortable but he must've been exhausted.

I'm struggling to believe how quiet it is. It's surreal.

I've been here for almost 5 years and between the couple constantly fighting upstairs, and the late night club DJ next door, it's never been this quiet at night.

I keep finding myself checking my ears for the earplugs I sleep with but they're never there.

I don't even know if those people ever made it back to their apartments, or if they're part of the rioting outside— if they ever even left today; for all I know, they've been there all day.

I've checked the backpacks three times now, but even if I close my eyes, I know I won't sleep.

Even with my eyes shut, my ears are still open; listening to every little shift in sound.

Final part coming New Years!