Chapter Six

So apparently, I can like… see in the dark, or something.

Just a few hours ago, I had climbed onto my roof to get a better view of the sunset. As the sky grew darker and darker, my vision returned to the red tint it had been the previous night. It didn't take long for me to realize this wasn't the strangest possible case of pink eye, but a kind of night vision, as I finally put two and two together to realize none of the buildings in sight have power, yet I've been able to see just fine when it should be pitch-black outside.

So, I've decided I'm going to make my excursion tonight, instead of tomorrow, as anything that might be after me will have less of a chance of spotting me, while I myself won't have a problem seeing them. That's my reasoning, at least.

I rummage through my dresser for a black hooded sweatshirt and put it on, carefully. It doesn't fit, but that's what I hoped for – the hood easily falls in front my face. Damned glowy eyes would give me away.

I empty out the satchel I swiped the other day. The flashlight's useless. I toss it aside. The batteries might come in handy, so I keep those. I'll definitely need the knife; that's staying. The hair ties are rather worthless to me now. I spy the Chips Ahoy cookies. You know, it's really bothered me that I'm still not hungry. There is something definitely messed up, there. I decide to try my luck at eating again, and rip the top off the package with my thumb. I stab a cookie and eat it. It's not… what I remember them tasting like… that is cheap, starchy, mass produced chocolate chip cookies, but instead… just the starchy part. Oh well, they don't make me gag, so I eat the rest, too. I throw everything in an old backpack, along with some gauze and tape from the medicine cabinet and a towel. I found my watch I regretted not bringing with me the other day. It's working just fine; it's been one week exactly since the infection struck. Using my knuckles, I somehow managed to get it on my wrist, though loose and dangling about. Whatever.

It's so eerie, this vision of mine. My mind knows its darkness I'm looking through, but it's not seeing it, and that's freaking me out. It's also messing with my sense of time. I haven't slept properly in a week, and I haven't seen the night's darkness in over a day. If I didn't have this watch to remind me, I fear I might forget about time entirely.

I can't help but feel I'm doing something really stupid. I mean, I'm here, right? I'm safe… supposedly… right? Why am I going out there again? By the time I've asked all these questions however, I'm already out the door and on my way. I approach the first infected with great caution. I'm not sure if she'll attack or not, but I have my knife at the ready. If she comes after me, well… I'm afraid… but I'll kill her. I won't hesitate.

But she doesn't. Thank god, I say out loud. At my voice she turns her head, but sees nothing interesting in me. "Dumbass." I tell her, and keep moving on. Once I leave the subdivision, I am reminded of how grisly the world has become. I walk mostly through the lawns and grassy patches alongside the roads, as the roads themselves are cluttered with vehicles, doors still open with either corpses or infected dangling out. But it doesn't affect me as much as it did before. My god, am I being desensitized to all this? I don't know if I want that or not. Being able to shrug off the fear should something happen is a helpful thing to be able to do, but… I don't want to ignore the horror of this disaster. I feel it's disrespectful.

But, only about a third of the way there, I'm already bored. I never truly appreciated the conveniences of modern transportation, until I'm forced to walk miles, without an iPod at that. Even though I just did just that the other day, and for a longer distance, danger seemed to be closer then. Really, in actuality just as close now as it was then. I shouldn't downplay the danger I'm in right now. I could have ended up like that… like that man. Dead in barely a thought. Damn it, why can't I get him out of my mind?

To calm myself, I start quietly singing the first thing to come to my mind. By the time I reach the chorus I realize I'm singing Erasure in the middle of the Westport Village shopping center. I'm embarrassed as hell, but I don't stop. It feels totally exhilarating. I swear if anyone with a brain left is hearing me, though…

By the time I reach the Dick's Sporting Goods attached to the side of Oxmoor Mall I've gone through an entire CAKE album and three songs by Imogen Heap. I should shut up now. This place is absolutely packed with infected. Can't be too cautious, I tell myself. The large glass door to the store was shattered, now lying in pieces on the sidewalk. I carefully make my way into the store, dodging infected. I still haven't touched one of them, and I'd rather not take my chances. They're all filthy anyway.

The hunting section of the store looks ransacked. Hah, I should have seen this coming. Some people yet to be infected must have come through here. God, I hope it did them good. The thought of people escaping this plague almost sounds too good to be true. I give them a belated "Good luck!" before looking through what they left. Sheesh, they'd have to have a damn army to take everything here. Just how much does one store need to stock?

My initial thought is to find something simple and small, a handgun. Upon picking up the first one I saw, I quickly dismissed that idea. My weird, huge hands can't hold it right. I move to the carbines. Picking up a Mini-14, I can tell it will be much more doable. I'd only fired a gun twice before in my life, but they were both similar enough to this that I knew how one was supposed to hold and fire it. I'm very aware of my lack of knowledge in firearms, so I don't waste my time comparing this gun with some others. I take a few minutes to find the appropriate ammunition, and grab another Mini, just in case something happens to the first one.

I should have known this was too simple a trip. As soon as I'm about to leave, I hear the sound of something. Or… I should say: someone, that was definitely the sound of someone still human. I am not alone.