By the

  time I could manage to crawl on hands and knees back to my apartment,

  I was barely conscious. My back had seized into a giant knot and even

  with moving slowly even the gentlest of movement was agony. I spent

  several minute crying with my back against the closed door as I

  realized I would have to stand to put on the chain lock and I used

  the bedside table like a toddler struggling to get their feet under

  them for the first time. My ears rang and my eyes felt like they were

  swirling as I flailed to engage the lock, then I stumbled forward and

  fell into bed, face into the pillow as body-wracking sobs exploded

  from me.

  It wasn’t the pain, that I anticipated and expected, it was the

  gravity of what I had just done. It was so far beyond anything I

  could ever have fathomed I would have to do that it felt like this

  all had to be some nightmare. Maybe I would wake up in the morning

  covered in sweat, but eternally grateful that it was all just a cruel

  dream made up by my sick mind. That had to be it. There could be no

  other option I would be okay with. This was just horrific. Beyond

  what I thought I was capable of.

  Perhaps it was an act of mercy that I quickly fell asleep, curled

  in a ball, face half buried in the pillow. I laid there for days,

  barely waking up long enough to crawl to the bathroom, get a drink

  and a small bite of food, then back to bed. Even if I had wanted to

  fight through it, my body was truly done and if any danger did come

  knocking on my door or at my window I would have been helpless.

  On the fourth day I woke up just before noon and for the first

  time it didn’t feel like there was a butter knife jammed into my

  skull. I felt reluctant to sit up and try to get back to normal, it

  was much easier to just lay there and put off processing what I was

  going to do next. Still, I had to press forward if I wanted to keep

  surviving. Even though I had gotten the boon of extra food from next

  door, water would still be a pressing issue, especially since I had

  just spent long enough neglecting my needs to be dehydrated.

  My back locked for a moment when I sat up, but begrudgingly

  released after a few moments of deep breathing. I needed a wash and a

  few glasses of water, then I could try to focus on what I had to do

  next. I could smell the damp stink of the man’s apartment and his

  sweat all over my shirt and I threw it off in disgust and wrapped it

  in an empty bag from under my bed, tying it in two double knots as I

  had no intention of ever using it again.

  At the sink, my own reflection spooked me. I had somehow pushed my

  shaven head from my mind and the woman who looked back at me did not

  at all match what I remembered from a week prior. My eyes were so

  sunken and dark, my face worried and aged. It felt impossible for

  just a short time to have an impact, yet I couldn’t deny that I

  just didn’t look like myself. I picked the mirror up off the nails

  it was hung on and placed it turned around on the floor next to the

  sink. I had no interest in looking at that woman. I wanted to pretend

  like I still looked like what I imagined when I closed my eyes. The

  carefree girl who had never heard of the chronic illness and had

  never had a single surgery. The woman who had her life ahead of her

  and all the hopes in the world. That was the perfect version of

  myself and I wanted her preserved.

  Being cleaner made me feel marginally better and a change of

  clothes made me feel refreshed, like a different person. I still

  didn’t feel great and like if I sat and dwelled on it I would go

  right back to feeling like I was a monster, but for now I just

  wouldn’t allow myself to contemplate any further. What’s done was

  done and reflecting on it could only hurt me.

  I poured a cooking pot’s worth of water into the water pitcher,

  grateful that I had it as it took out most of the stale taste the

  stored water was gathering. If I had energy to spare it would have

  been smart to cover all the water containers that were open,

  especially to try to combat evaporation, but I didn’t so I was just

  trying to use those containers up first. That line of thinking also

  inspired me to retrieve the bag of rice from the backpack I had just

  chucked in the corner of the kitchen and put a pan of rice on the

  stove. While in my fatigued stupor I had not had much capacity for

  logical thought, but it had occurred to me that the power would not

  stay on forever. The power going out would render the fridge and

  stove useless, so it was in my best interest to use up the food that

  absolutely needed to be cooked first.

  In time I could figure out a way to make small fires for cooking

  in a safe way, maybe use the empty tub as a safe place to burn

  things, but it felt way too easy for a fire to get out of control.

  There was also the issue of controlling the smoke and finding safe

  things to burn. I knew from landscaping that a great deal of wood was

  treated with chemicals to make them water resistant and last longer,

  but those chemicals were also not something you wanted to be burning

  next to you. Also, it was just common sense that having smoke fill an

  enclosed space was a terrible idea.

  It was already early autumn and while it was still reasonably

  warm, at least warm enough to not need to kick on the heat, but soon

  enough it would start to cool down and if the power went off in the

  middle of a cold snap that could be very dangerous very quickly. The

  building was not known for being well insulated and typically I used

  a small space heater to make it more tolerable, without it I was

  going to need a lot of blankets.

  This narrative has been purloined without the author's approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.

  As I sat on my kitchen stool and stirred the rice, I kept trying

  to circle around if there was any way I could make some sort of fire

  work and I was coming back to the same problems time and time again.

  It was just too dangerous to have big flames inside and even if I

  could set up a ventilation system there was always the risk that it

  would give me away. I didn’t think I could trust other people who

  might be out there surviving. I very reluctantly had to do what I did

  to survive, but if people were out walking around, looking for other

  survivors, they were the type of people who could bring themselves to

  have done and continue to do the unthinkable. I wasn’t sure I

  particularly wanted that kind of person to find me. Even the most

  kind and gentle person could go feral when faced with little other

  options.

  I switched off the pot once the rice was finished and pulled open

  the top of a can of chilli beans and poured them in. It wasn’t

  great food, but it was filling and probably enough for a few meals. I

  sill had quite a bit of rice left and some dried beans still in the

  cupboard, it was probably wise to cook a good bit of it up and have

  it in the fridge just in case, but that would have to be for another

  day. For today, I was already at the end of my energy and I just

  wanted to crawl back into bed and forget again.

  I would let myself have the rest of the day to continue resting,

  but the next day I had to go out and go through the rest of the

  apartments. I assumed from the lack of noise or interested people

  investigating what was happening while I was huffing, puffing, and

  grunting, then sobbing in the hallway that the other apartments were

  empty. I needed to clear any perishable food before it went

  completely bad, take stock, and then see where I stood. I didn’t

  expect much, but even a little more supplies could be the difference

  between life and death.

  While I finished my dinner I pulled out my phone that I had

  thankfully put onto charge before my whole adventure leaving the

  apartment and started researching survival information. Specifically,

  I focused on how to source clean water. There were lots of methods,

  some a lot harder to pull off than others, but some could be

  realistically feasible even for me. The most likely method was

  collecting rain water and setting up a filtration system using

  something like tights or pantihose, then boiling the water to ensure

  it was drinkable.

  Having the fire escape had been a bit terrifying to me at first,

  but thinking about it, it was a boon for allowing me to have easier

  outside access. I could set up a way to collect water out there and

  even have small fires eventually when I needed to without risking

  having it indoors. I still wasn’t happy about the idea that it

  would be obvious to anyone looking for that sort of that that someone

  was living in this apartment, but that was a risk I was coming to the

  conclusion that I would have to accept. I would have to set up water

  collection and sometimes I would need to make a little smoke,

  otherwise I would have a much harder time. I just had to hope that I

  would be a drop in a bucket and not worth bothering or that the

  people who managed to survive would surprise me in being much more

  empathetic than I was imagining.

  With a new sense of direction I pulled out my notebook and pen and

  wrote down possible items that would allow me to design a water

  collection system. A large bucket or other container was going to be

  the hardest thing to find. The largest container I currently owned

  other than a large cooking pot were boxes. The cooking pot could do

  in a pinch for the short term, but the human body needed a lot of

  water in a day and I would need lots of it stored to be safe between

  rain. The next most important item would be a lot of some kind of

  tarp or plastic sheeting, which I had no idea if I could find, but I

  felt reasonably confident that I could find alternatives if I needed

  to. The filtering material was simple enough, I vaguely remembered

  seeing some pantihose in the pile of clothes next door so I wrote it

  down and put a star next to it to remind myself that I already knew

  where to get it.

  Finally, I wrote down barricades with a question mark next to it.

  To feel safe about the set up I wanted to have some way to block off

  the stairs leading up to and then up again from my fire escape

  landing. I wanted something that was hard to move or that I could

  wrap around the railing to deter people and zombies from accessing my

  window. I doubted the other apartments would have much in the way of

  lots of wire or some kind of boards, but I would keep the idea in the

  back of my mind and hope I could think of a creative solution.

  Looking at the list, it wasn’t a lot on paper, but there were so

  many unknowns that it felt overwhelming. There were many other things

  that came to mind that I needed to consider, like how to contain a

  fire on the fire escape when it came to that, how to minimize the

  smoke, and other logistical issues, but I forced myself to close the

  notebook and disengage. I had to do this one step at a time or it

  would overwhelm me and if I got overwhelmed I might freeze and feel

  like I was unable to begin at all. I couldn’t afford that.

  As if to drive home the importance to focus, a distant rumble of

  thunder broke me out of my thoughts and a gentle rain pattered

  against my window. I sighed at the fact I didn’t already have the

  water collection set up, but did what I could by unlocking and

  unjamming the window before slowly opening the window and glancing up

  and down to make sure there was no movement through the dark grates,

  then I gathered some of my now empty containers and placed them onto

  the fire escape to collect what I could. For now I could run the

  water through the pitcher and then boil it on the stove and it would

  have to do.

  Out of curiosity, I strained my neck out of the window to try to

  look far down the alleyway towards the main road to see if I could

  see any of the city. I did not have a great view, mostly of the brick

  wall of the building adjacent to mine and like I suspected, through

  the darkening afternoon and rain I wasn’t able to see much. In fact

  it was eerily quiet other than the rain. No honking horns, no sound

  of people walking on the streets, just uncomfortable shuffling and

  distant groans here and there. I had been feeling alone, forgotten by

  society, but in that moment it truly felt like I was mostly alone

  because there was no one left to ignore me.