The Last Alive

Chapter Four - Finding Nathan

Chapter Four

Finding Nathan

Eerie silence filled the air. Years ago, you would see children skipping in front of their parents as they headed for dinner and a show in the city. Now the kids didn't go out to play. There were no more dinners or shows for them to venture to. It was nothing but death and misery. Many people boarded themselves up in their homes. Those who braved the darkness had some sort of weapon. We all carried weapons now. A handgun in the shoulder holster my dad bought for me years ago, a bow and quiver slung on my back, and a few well-placed knives replaced necklaces and rings as my accessories.

Even though the city was better protected than Fort Knox, you never knew what might happen. When we first took up refuge in the remains of downtown our city was breeched. In the early days, the siren used as a warning system went off all the time. Mother's grabbed their children and barricaded the doors. The old jail cells were converted into holding tanks for those feared infected. When they turned the cells became an executioners' playground. As time went on, the border was fortified with the massive logs. Invasions of the undead kind were less and less frequent. It had been at least a year since one found a weak spot. Meaghan and I headed for Nathan's apartment. The beautiful 151 First Side Condos nestled in the Golden Triangle. It offered a beautiful view of the city, the rivers, and the destruction on the other side of our safe haven. The view from his apartment put things into perspective and let you know just how close death was. At one point it was one of the sought-after places to live in downtown. Now, it was just another run-down building. The owner long abandoned it for either a safer city or he was turned. Nobody really knows. Nathan lived there before zombiepocalypse and just stayed.

"Where is he?" Meaghan asked.

She looked around the nearly deserted streets. She hated letting other people get to the docks before we did. She always managed to snag most of the chocolate we occasionally got in the shipment.

"He might still be upstairs. Come on, let's go get him," I said, ducking under the metal bar of the broken door.

"That's ten floors!" Meaghan whined.

"So?" I trudged through the dirty lobby.

"Ugh, fine, let's go." She never liked standing around by herself for long.

I glanced at her as we pushed through the rusty door leading to the stairwell. Her frustration was very apparent under her attempt at a stony glare. I shook my head and headed up. The walk got easier every time I did it; which was quite often. If I wasn't with Mom and Dad, I was with Nathan. Or Meaghan. It was two-hundred and fifty steps to his floor. I counted every time I climbed. If things had turned out differently I would have just listened to music or taken the elevator. But seeing as how we no longer had electricity, counting each daunting step was all I had to keep my mind occupied while I climbed. I pulled a small flashlight from my back pocket and clicked it on. The stairwell was pitch-black at night. Even during the day, it was pretty dark. The tiny, dirty windows did little to let in light.

"Alright, here we go. Just count to two-hundred and fifty, and it won't seem so bad." I smiled at my friend.

She rolled her eyes and muttered something under her breath. The tenth floor was quiet. Nathan's apartment was last on the left. It had the perfect view of the docking area. Our monthly shipment of supplies always came by river. It was too dangerous any other way. Truckers tried to cross the infested terrain first, but they were killed by zombies or the occasional band of rogues, who didn't want to live in the city, rather quickly.

Have you ever heard of the phrase too many chiefs in a village? Well, that happened here. Eventually the chief of Pittsburgh Police took control and she's been doing an awesome job since. I could be biased though, I worked with before the Turning. She'd promoted me from a beat cop to a detective rather quickly.