So, first off, I apologize for being almost three weeks late. I want to give excuses so here you go: the first version of chapter three sucked, so I scrapped it too late and started over but didn't know where to go, I keep finding plot holes in it so I get discouraged, and I also share the iPad that I write from with my two sisters. But what the heck, my motto is "I can fix this!" so the plot holes are nothing to worry about. Anyways, let me know how you think I can improve the storyline from here. Anything bugging you about it? Thanks. :)

Also, I think I should probably put up a disclaimer or something.

DISCLAIMER: This story is based off of an adaptation of Richard Mattheson's I Am Legend. I only own the characters René Taylor, Garland, and Nate Cormack.

We were two in a million so far. Driving past the wreckage in the streets made me almost feel lucky to have survived. Sure, I had been driving around it for over three hours, but it was pretty bad here in Central Dallas. Cars were wrecked and abandoned all over the place. Several buildings had been burned, as well as a handful of cars. One or more had probably caught fire and exploded in a collision.

As usual, my head was swimming in how's, why's, and what-ifs, but I never fell very far from Nate's bumper. We traversed the city and up into the north side. His apartment was there. Instead of white paneling on the outside, it had grey and brown bricks. The stairwell was enclosed by black iron railing and the grey roof was several shades darker than mine. Nonetheless, I felt like I was visiting Garland's grave.

Nate parked his truck in front of building A and stalked towards a door on the ground level. He picked the lock, letting us into a plain and somewhat messy living room. He shrugged and sighed.

"Yeah, well, I was half expecting company but still didn't do a thing to clean up. You don't mind, do you?"

I shook my head. "No."

"Me neither." He replied. He put his rifle on the couch and began clearing off the rest of it. It was littered with throw pillows and disposable dishes. "You can have my bed or the couch. It doesn't matter to me."

I just stood by the front door and watched, considering his hospitality. Although, under the circumstances, it was the least he could do. There was no telling how many people were left. And how many people had changed like Garland and our neighbors.

He spent the day reading a book that he pulled from between a couch cushion and the arm rest. I stood by the window staring at the adjacent building's brick wall and the grass until my legs got stiff. I sat on the other end of the couch reading another one of his books: Seize the Night, by Dean Koontz. It was just a black hard-cover with no synopsis, but I took a chance on it and read almost two-thirds of it before bed.

The entire day had been quiet. So was dinner, which was just a couple of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. The power was out, so there was no TV, no lights (except for what came from the tea candles and window), no refrigerator, and no microwave. The refrigerator was just cool enough to keep a few things from going bad though because Nate had packed all of the ice from the freezer into it.

He shared a jar of caramel ice cream topping and some apples for dessert, and then we tried to, very quietly, go to sleep. Nate went into his room to get something before handing it over to me but by the time he got back I had already arranged the throw pillows for sleep and taken my shoes off. I was sitting on the couch kind of like a territorial meerkat.

"I'll take the couch," I said, "so all I need is a blanket."

"You can have the bed. You'll pro'bly be more comfortable there."

"Well, I'd feel like I was taking it from you, and I'm comfortable here." I replied.

"No, no, I mean that you can have it. Like, I'm giving it to you."

I just shook my head. "Blanket please."

He rolled his eyes and walked back to his room, muttering something about being stubborn and not really comfortable. Seconds later, he tossed a Kelly green blanket with felty edges at me. "Here you go. Goodnight."

"Goodnight." I said quickly. That one word brought what is best described as nostalgia by the boat loads. He turned away and closed the door. I blew out the candles on the coffee table. The curtains and blinds were closed tightly against the approaching night. But I laid awake and thought about that word: goodnight.

The sound of infected survivors reverberated throughout the apartment all night. I slept fitfully, and only for an hour or two at a time. I tried to relive the good times in my head while staring blankly at the large, black shape of a stranger's rifle laying beside me. In the morning, neither of us said anything about it, but both of us knew that the night had been terrible. It wasn't unlike many of the past eleven nights.

I asked Nate if he knew why the infected people didn't come out during the day.

"You don't know?" He asked dubiously.

"No... That's kind of why I asked."

He huffed in disbelief. "They're allergic to sunlight or something. It burns them. Kind of like a vampire, but they don't explode or burst into flames."

"Oh. I saw two of them already, up close." Garland's snarling, angry face appeared and my throat clenched tightly. "They were inside a dark house... eating someone."

"Where?"

"Right across from my house."

"Like, just on the other side of the street?" He asked.

"Yeah. I stayed there for a few days... Uhm..." I caught myself but he didn't seem to care. "I stayed there and they just looted the houses around mine."

"How are you even alive?" He asked, but he wasn't asking me. It was more to himself. "They don't loot, they kill people. You know how aggressive the virus makes them, don't you?"

I nodded and settled into my chair self-consciously. I felt like I should know much more about them now.

"It clouds their heads. They don't think like people; they eat people." He fell silent. After a while he added, "You're lucky to be alive, considering how many there are out there."

"I know." A pause. "I heard dogs barking around the neighborhood but they just stopped on the second or third day."

He nodded soberly. "Same here. They're probably dead now, too. Anything that's moving annoys them. And looks pretty tasty, on second thought."

After breakfast we went out to look for survivors together. I drove my car, and he drove his truck. On the way past a Walmart, we saw a car driving right up to the front door near the market side. We high-tailed it in and ran up to the door but our hopes fell soon enough. It was dark, even with the skylights; the silence was deafening.

As a beam of light suddenly swung through the massive structure, Nate said, "Wait here."

I didn't have time to protest. He just left while swinging his rifle into place at his shoulder and clicking on the flashlight at the end. I pranced nervously in place then went to the car. Cupping my hands over the back window, I looked inside and saw an empty child seat. My heart fluttered violently; children are my weakness.

Soon, two gunshots rang out from inside and I ducked in without hesitation. I had no flashlight, but a kid might've been in there. Maybe the kid was already dead and the parents were the only ones left. Maybe only one parent was alive, with or without a kid, but Nate and Darkseekers were in there too.

Three more shots followed and I found myself under a two-hundred and some odd pound man. He had no hair, despite looking like he was only in his upper twenties. His skin was baby pink and greying in some places. His warm, humid breath was blasting onto my face but suddenly his skin began quietly sizzling when a flashlight shone on him. A bullet shoved his head away, splattering blood out the other side.

"Run!" Nate shouted.

He pulled me to my feet and pretty much just dragged me into the light. He had been splattered with blood as well. He was panting and hyper.

"What about the others?" I asked.

"They're gone." He said. "The Darkseekers jumped them first. I tried to get a good shot, but they were just too fast."

We just walked away without a word or a glance back. I wanted to mention the child seat but he looked pretty wore out already and disappointed in himself. We just drove away and continued the search, putting one incident of many behind us.