Alfred's eyes snapped opened. He listened for the sound of breathing, for rasping, for the sounds of something being knocked down. The bird's chattered in the corner, and it only took a few minutes before Alfred allowed his eyes to drift back shut.

Sometimes, he wondered what it would be like to wake up with something chewing on his toes.

Alfred searched the sheets until his found his phone. He squinted at the screen, too lazy to retrieve his glasses, and opened YouTube. For a moment, he held his breath, and the loading screen seemed to be taking toolong. Then, the newest uploads had all been watched. Only one was new.

Alfred clicked on it.

Kiku's voice filled Alfred's apartment.

"In a world without much hope…" The camera spun, and Kiku's apartment flashed around the video. It was about as neat as it needed to be, which wasn't very. "Only one man had the required merchandise…"

The screen faded to black.

Then, Pokemon cards. Kiku's entire bed was littered with Pokemon cards, old ones, new ones, and some Yugioh cards. Alfred grinned at the screen as Kiku went on to explain,

"Only though my collection of cards can I save the world." The camera pointed out the window, over Tokyo. From this height, the streets filled with the dead couldn't even be seen. It was just the blue sky and shining skyscrapers and the river. Kiku could sail away and never look back.

And then the video ended.

Alfred blinked at the screen and then sat up. His house was a mess. The windows hadn't been pretty to begin with, but the wood hastily boarding them up didn't add to the décor. Alfred had stopped throwing out the wrappers to food, so they collected on the ground like a fine mist.

To the computer. Alfred turned it on, clicking on Skype and opening YouTube.

Alfred waited for Kiku to log on. He clicked through the videos on YouTube, the channels he had followed. The most recent update had been a month ago. Now, it was just Kiku.

There had been bad-ASS-chick, who had enthusiastically posted her videos of kickboxing. She would assure them that she could kick the hell out of anything that came her way. Everyone, even the crazy German, had begged her not to try her luck outside.

There had been painer53920, who the Germans had left to save, all the way in Italy. There had been the Russian, who posted videos with vodka bottles surrounding him and insulted Alfred's skills at chess. The Russian had been safe until spring.

Alfred clicked on his camera, spinning in the chair and recording. "Day fifty-two. The tornado still hasn't dropped me. I continue to spin." He whistled cryptically and spun faster. The camera slipped out of his hands. "Fuck!"

A Skype call binged. Alfred turned and accepted, grinning at Kiku.

"Bro."

"I didn't get a video in return?"

"I was working on it," Alfred explained, gesturing over his shoulder. "How's the weather?"

Kiku looked over his shoulder. The light from the windows behind him made his face dark. "It's raining, but I think it will be sunny later. We should play WoW later. Maybe someone will be connected to the servers."

Alfred drummed his fingers on the desk. "I've been practicing on the flight simulator, actually."

Alfred couldn't see the expression on Kiku's face, but his voice was careful and calm. "Alfred, don't."

"I could make it," Alfred leaned closer to the screen. "Kiku, I've checked everything. I could make it! I'd just have to leave midday, when the smart ones stay in the shade, and then the stupid ones would be easy to pick off."

"Alfred—"

"And most of the airports were abandoned early, you remember. I bet some of the planes are fully refueled. And it would be easy with my phone, a straight shot—"

"Alfred—"

"—across the Pacific. And I've practiced all the flight simulators, I—"

"Alfred!"

Alfred closed his mouth, looked at his keyboard.

"You can't, Alfred."

"I have to."

Kiku jostled his laptop, and Alfred caught another glimpse of the city behind him. God, it must be amazing to have a view. Alfred's house suddenly seemed very small, the noise dampened by the closed hallways. The birds chattered.

"You sound like the others."

"I need to see you."

Even in the shadows and the pixels, Alfred saw the look that flashed across Kiku's face. The mouth open, then pulled into a tight line. The eyes that closed, the slight shake of the head. Alfred wanted to shake him, wanted to make him understand.

"Alfred, no."

"I'm doing it."

"You're acting like a child—"

"I can't stay here!" An edge of desperation to his voice, even though Alfred just wants to sound angry. He wanted to sound furious. He sounded tired, and sad, and frustrated. "Kiku, I'm running out of water and food. I can hear themoutside, they know I'm in here. I have to leave!"

"And then what happens when you die?! What am I going to do, Alfred? I can't—"

"You're delusional if you think we can keep this up! Something is going to give, what's going to happen when YouTube doesn't—"

"I can't lose you, too!" Kiku shouted, and the laptop almost fell. Again, the skyline.

And then the connection was lost.

Alfred stared at the screen. He hit the side of his computer. Checked the Internet. Nothing was connecting.

Alfred threw his computer and screamed.