01

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3 Years Later

Hinata crouched atop an old RV staring out at the desolate landscape of Nagoya with a pensive expression. He was supposed to be looking for shops to raid for food and medicine, but he'd gotten caught up in the nostalgia of the ruined city. Broken husks of cars littered the road, pavement cracked and bleached from the sun. Weeds and wildflowers had taken over the one sprawling cityscape, ivy creating a home in the shells of old skyscrapers and flowers blooming among the cracks in the asphalt. Sparrows made nests in the hollowed-out shells of old traffic lights.

It was sort of poetic, Hinata thought, that so many living things could thrive among so much death.

But he couldn't stew in feelings forever. He straightened up and searched through the line of shops for a pharmacy, figuring it was best to secure meds first. It was hard to find antibiotics three years after the Decimation—AKA the apocalypse that destroyed Japan and the rest of the mortal world several years ago. Hinata hadn't had much need for medicines so far, but he figured it couldn't hurt to have some lying in round the next time he happened upon a cold. A flu in the zombie apocalypse pretty much meant your head on a plate.

Luckily, there were a Vdrug a few feet down the block, and Kanayama Station was only a few feet away, which would have the rest of the supplies he needed. Retrieving his pack from the roof of the RV, Hinata slid down the hood, slinging his rifle over his shoulder and retrieving a machete from his backpack. As he walked down the street, he mimicked hitting a baseball, watching the edges of the street for signs of zombies. It was late in the evening, and typically they only wandered around late at night or early in the morning, so Hinata figured he would be safe if he stayed in the middle of the road where he had free range to attack in every direction.

As he reached the Vdrug, he stepped through the shattered glass door and approached the first set of shelves, which had mostly been picked clean. He retrieved only a single bottle of painkillers from the first shelf and waded further into the wreckage of the shop, picking aside shards of broken glass and empty drug packages. Hinata picked up a few packs of gauze pads and bandages as he headed towards the shelves farthest in the back, where he was more likely to find the antibiotics.

Just as he'd predicted, there were several bottles on the lowest shelves and Hinata stocked up on antibiotics, beta-blockers, aspirin, and diuretics. Hinata shoved them all in his pack victoriously, skipping back towards the front of the shop and heading towards Kanayama Station. A slight wind had picked up and he pulled the hood of his sweatshirt over his head, covering his mouth with a black bandanna, attempting to conceal his scent as much as possible. Luckily, a storm cloud was brewing on the horizon, which would provide enough cover to get him to the city limits after he got what he needed.

As Hinata reached the entrance to Kanayama Station, the first drops began to fall, coating the landscape in a veil of gray. He ducked into the first clothing store he saw to escape the downpour and dropped his pack behind the counter, keeping the machete strapped to his hip as he wandered farther into the store, stripping off his jacket as he went. The racks were still full, clothes not being the number one priority in Zombie World. Hinata usually gathered new clothes every few days: it was way easier than having to wash them.

After changing out of dirty jeans into joggers and pulling on a new gray T-shirt, he gathered some more clothes and returned to the front of the store, shoving them deep into his backpack as he pulled on his old cotton jacket and covered his head and mouth again before braving the rain. Next stop was food, which he a restaurant a few shops down, stocking up on dry goods and nonperishables.

His backpack was significantly heavier when he left, but food was definitely a burden Hinata was willing to bear. Besides, he'd made camp only a few miles away, so he wouldn't have to carry it far. Unfortunately, the rain was so heavy, it soaked him through and through, obscuring the city in a dark, dizzying cloud of water. Hinata frowned at the sky as he hunkered lower in his coat. It seemed like the type of storm that could last for days, which meant he wouldn't be able to move on until it passed.

It was unwise to stay in one place for too long, but it looked like he would have no choice. At the rate this rain was going, it would make traveling like trying to survive Noah's Ark. Maybe if he found a raincoat... But with that added bulk, he'd be too weighed down if he needed to run. Looked like there really was no other choice.

Oh well. At least his camp was sheltered. It was in an old hotel building a few blocks away, one with a view of the whole city from the roof that was a great spot to scout from. It was one of the only tall buildings that were still standing at its full height, and some of its windows were even still intact. It was probably the best spot he could've found in the whole city, although he hadn't planned on staying more than a day or two. If the storm continued, he'd have to switch locations. What a drag.

As he reached the hotel's broken entryway, Hinata stepped inside, treading carefully over the broken glass that littered the scuffed marble floor. He ducked into the stairwell, which was half-collapsed and dripping with water, and carefully skirted past a fallen piece of ceiling debris to edge his way up to the sturdy part of the stairs. Hinata's camp was seven floors up, where he'd set up a tent close to a window. As he plopped down on his ratty sleeping bag, he squinted out into the rain.

There was an odd feeling in the air: a feeling like something was about to change.

Kageyama sat on the hood of a shiny black Acura, twirling a pistol between his fingers and trying to entertain himself. He'd been sitting there for three hours already and not a single person, dead or alive, had shown up. He was itching to shoot something but this storm had come out of nowhere and there'd been no zombie activity since, leaving him stewing in boredom.

His employers—the very wealthy Madoka family—had hired him a few months ago to guard their mansion along with four others. The job was simple, consisting mainly of shooting any zombies that came close to the electrified fence and dissuading rowdy survivors who clamored for a chance to get inside the highly-secured estate grounds. It was already pretty boring, but when a storm like this came along and drove away all the zombies, it was much worse. There was absolutely nothing to do, which was why Kageyama could get away with sitting in the expansive garage with the door open, staring out at the downpour.

He raised a knee and slung his arm around it, rolling his eyes back in his head and sighing through his teeth. Maybe he could shoot one of his fellow guards and pretend it was an accident. They'd been pissing him off recently and he was known for a short temper, especially so when his patience was running thin. But if he shot someone, he'd probably lose this job, and it paid him in food and guns, so that wasn't ideal. He'd just have to wait until a zombie or a civilian showed up.

From above, an arc of lightning came down and struck the iron fence. Kageyama watched in mild surprise as it cracked and fizzed, blowing sparks before it whirred and shut off, along with the lights of the garage and all the others in the house. He hopped off the car and hefted his father's gun over his shoulder, heading out into the rain with a weary sigh. "Power outage. Figures."

As Kageyama watched the house, the four other guards came sprinting outside and entered the utility shed, no doubt to try and restore the power. They had backup generators, but as he'd gathered, they hadn't needed to use them for a while. Kageyama wasn't all that trusting in generators to begin with, not to mention ones that hadn't been used in months. Oh well. It didn't really matter. He'd protect them until he couldn't, then he'd move on again, just like always.

He'd made a rule book for himself when he realized his family was gone and he'd be alone in the apocalypse, and rule number one was look out for you, and only you. Trusting or relying on others would only get him killed, so Kageyama had a policy that he would forge relationships with someone else only if the alliance were beneficial, like his current arrangement with the Madokas. However, if they died, he'd waste no guilt over it. He'd raid their house, take everything he needed, and kill anyone who tried to stop him. A policy of indifference was a valuable asset in the apocalypse.

Now, for instance, he watched the backup generators kick in from his spot by the gates and ignored the glares from the other guards as they headed back to their posts. Most of them didn't like him, probably because he felt they were beneath him and therefore didn't deign to speak with them. He stuck to his own business and didn't follow their rules, which seemed to rile them, for some reason. He had no reason to be nice to them, so he wasn't sure what they got so mad about.

Nevertheless, he did his job well, which suited him just fine. All he had to do was climb up something tall and shoot anything that was threatening. He'd had a natural talent for sniping from the start, and his skills had only evolved since then. That was the reason the Madoka family had picked him up: his excellent sharpshooter skills. That was probably the only thing that kept his coworkers from messing with him: the fact that he had a reputation for shooting first and talking later.

In the first year after the Decimation, he'd make a name for himself by going around and cleaning out infested weapons stores. He wasn't quite sure why everyone was so impressed. It was easy. All he had to do was snipe the zombies he could from windows and then pike the rest. Whatever the case, he'd become well-known fast, and his small amount of fame had landed him a lot of hired jobs over three years: enough to amass quite an impressive arms collection.

Long story short, Kageyama had a pretty good life for someone in a wasteland crawling with brain-dead idiots. He made a killing because he knew how to be smart, which also made him dangerous. He loved being dangerous. It kept idiots away from him and powerful people close by; the perfect equation for survival. Fall seven times, stand up eight, as it were.

"Kageyama, are you just going to stand there like a space cadet for the rest of the day?" One of his comrades—arguably the most tolerable—approached from the utility shed, slinging his rifle over his back. "There's been a stranger spotted in a hotel nearby. We're to be on high alert until he leaves town again."

Kageyama clicked his tongue and slunk past him with a scowl. "They're worried about one guy? Whatever. I'll take the roof."

As the other guard ducked back into the house, Kageyama climbed the ladder attached to the side of the mansion's eastern-facing wall and slid down atop one of the window dormers, lying flat on his stomach and placing his rifle flat on the tiles, squinting through the scope at the cityscape of Nagoya sprawling out around them in a playground of broken buildings and cracked pavement.

The rain tingled against the skin of his neck and slid down his back, and as thunder rumbled up ahead and lightning crackled in the distance, Kageyama pulled the hood of his trench coat over his head and pulling his looped gray scarf over his mouth and nose, feeling moisture condense on the fabric as he readjusted his position, loosening his shoulders and angling his gun farther over the roof's edge. The constant downpour made it hard to track any figures through the haze, but on the distance, he could faintly pick out a black blob creeping out of a gutted skyscraper.

Frowning, he adjusted the scope, and as it zoomed outwards, he inhaled sharply. A horse of corpses extracted themselves from the shadows of buildings and headed in a horde down the street. He fired a few shots into the mob, but the second one body fell, another replaced it. Kageyama cursed and pulled himself back across the roof, looping his gun around his shoulder as he slid down the ladder and banged noisily into the mansion.

Whatever was coming, it certainly wasn't good.