Chapter 20

His eyes glinted in the pale light of the moon. It had been months since he had seen a clear sky. For what seemed like years, only clouds covered the skies, but now, in this strange place he once knew but no longer recognized, the moon pierced the sky. Trees rustled in the wind, but other than that, nothing moved.

He slid out of the bushes and approached a large house. The windows were cracked open, and vines crawled up the walls. No one had been keeping the place together for a long time.

What if I'm too late? He thought, but pressed on toward the house. His hand snaked into his pocket and fished out a jagged knife he had found just days ago, and he held it in front of him as he slunk into the house. The door stood ajar, hanging only on one hinge, letting only a sliver of light inside.

He scanned the front room for signs of life, but dust covered the floor, and smashed bottles crackled under his steps.

"Hello?" He whispered, hoping someone would be there hiding, pretending to be dead, but he remembered the words from months ago. This man was most likely dead, so would he find the body?

Yes.

It was nearly a skeleton with only a mat of golden hair to identify the man it once was. The flesh was completely eaten away by bugs, and the remaining skin had formed a leather coating around the skull and bones. A strip of blanket covered one leg, and the other one dangled off the bed, only held together by the leather.

He shook his head and turned to go.

If only the body could have disappeared completely.

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Nobody spoke a word here. Even amidst the hustle and bustle of moving people, not a spoken word came out. The people wore odd clothing, and they gave him odd looks when he travelled through. Occasionally someone would look up at the sun then back down at him curiously, but no one ever got too close.

One day an old man grunted at him and pointed to a house. He looked over at it and decided to check it out.

Before he could knock, a voice called out, "Come in." The first voice he had heard in weeks.

"You ask why I knew it was you," the voice said when he walked in. "I can feel it. You should not be here. These are ruined lands. The sun poisoning grows rampant, which you will get if you do not cover up. You are strong, abnormally so, but even you cannot survive everything."

"I've survived a lot so far. Who says I need to survive more?"

"The world."

"You've changed."

"Everyone has."

"Why has it been empty as I travel through here?"

"He has fallen, and the heat has killed everyone. The few left have strong ties to this land, even when the sea draws closer."

"You already moved across the border."

"There is no border anymore. He is gone."

"How long?"

"Long enough. He is dead. Everyone in the south is dead or gone. You're wasting your time here."

"But you are still alive."

"Like I said, the people are tied to the land."

"What else do I need to know?"

"This isn't the place you knew. Everyone once close to you is dead."

"Then my time here is done."

"Don't forget a suit. If you wish to keep living, that is."

"Can I die is the real question you should be asking."

"Go."

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The rest of the south was empty. Everyone was dead or gone. He found several bodies, and in some places the land was simply vacant. Then he found a house. The city around it had burned to the ground, but the house in all its glory was still standing, covered in ash. He approached it slowly, pulling out his knife once more. Maybe this time, this person would not be dead. He had to be alive, even if he always hated the man.

"Roderich?" He called out. "Are you here?"

Something scuffled in the other room.

"Hey!" He called out again. The scuffling stopped for a moment, but then the sound of footsteps echoed down the hall.

"Is that who I think it is? I thought…" a voice called out softly.

"People think a lot of things," he cut in quickly.

"Have you seen her? Have you seen Elizabeta? She left…" Roderich walked out of the shadows and faced him.

He shook his head. "I have not. Where was she going?"

"North."

"Then I will look. Will you come?"

"No," Roderich shook his head. "I have nothing left but this house. This is where I will stay and this is where I will die."

"Is that really what you want?"

"Yes, I can feel it is my time."

"Don't you want to live? Like me?"

"No, I cannot bear that. I have lived a good life, and now it is time for me to die. Please leave," Roderich inched back.

"Why would you not want to be like me?"

"Because you are bad. Get away."

"What are you talking about?"

"Get away! No! No! Don't come close. Don't come near. I won't let you. It- here, here. I'm sorry. Go. Get away from me, foul beast, get away! You know… You won't take me!" Roderich fell to the floor writhing.

"Roderich!"

"Get away! Die!" Roderich reached out for him and grabbed his leg. Nails dug into his skin, and blood oozed out. He hadn't seen the red liquid on him in so long. Then Roderich pulled him close and clamped his jaws around his leg. He shrieked and pulled away.

"You're crazy!" He yelled and ran back out into the ashen city.

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Trees filled his vision for the weeks after that. Walking days grew shorter and shorter until he could not walk any further. Infection spread through his leg, evoking a pain he had not felt in a long time. Everything that had tried to kill him failed, and he recovered quickly, but this… This was different. This did not go away. Most days he could barely stand, and now he lied at the base of a tree whimpering.

"I can die," he moaned. "I can."

Then the figure came. It wasn't very tall, but he could not see who it was through his blurred vision. The infection had grown even further, and now he was deep in fever.

The figure never spoke, but it ran its hands along his leg. He felt a warmth and then a numbness unlike the one he felt after the pain of the infection grew unnoticed. Soon his fever subsided, and he felt the swelling of his veins go down. His leg regained consciousness.

Then one day as he was waking from sleep, the figure stopped by one last time. "Tell Germany goodbye," it said, and before he could look up and see who the figure was, something hit him, and he blacked out.

It wasn't until days later that he woke up confused and starving, and by then, the figure was gone.

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The trees subsided to beaches and broken tents. Far away, a broken city waved through the smog. This was where he would cross. This was where he would hopefully find the last people of the earth. This was where his hope had led him. This was where.