This story takes heavy influence from the Japanese web novel/visual novel “I Walk Among Zombies” by Uraji Rokuro. Their concept for the zombies were very innovative and I highly recommend people go check it out if the opportunity arrises. Though the story meandered a bit before being abandoned at the third chapter, I think there were a lot of solid ideas, and this story here is my take on what could’ve been.
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The only thing worse than missing the bus was missing the stop, and somehow Ray had managed to do both on a single night. Naturally, it was also pouring outside during the 15-minute walk back to his apartment, topped off by the fact that he didn’t have an umbrella. A likely portent of things to come, seeing as today was only the first day of tax season.
Go into business, they said. It would be easy, they said. What they didn’t say was the 12-hour work days even as an intern that made Ray’s university work seem like heaven in comparison. Plus, the work had hardly felt fulfilling. He spent half the day phone in hand, waiting on hold as he got juggled around by various government departments playing hot potato with him. By the time he got off of work, he had barely missed his bus, and ended up dozing off on the next bus, which resulted in him almost ending up on the wrong side of town.
Shivering from the cold, Ray finally arrived at his ratty apartment, already losing feeling in his toes. In a perfect world, there would be a kind lover waiting back home, with a warm bowl of soup waiting for him. In reality, he was probably just going to eat instant ramen again, a staple in the single college-aged male diet.
“Shit, again?” Ray muttered to himself, looking at the “out of order” sign on the elevator. “That’s twice this week.”
You get what you pay for, and paying bottom tier rent got you an apartment held together by duct tape and prayers. Shaking his head in annoyance, Ray began making the trek up to the fourth floor, going as fast as he can. Hopefully, he wouldn’t have to run into any of the other denizens residing in this shitty place. With his luck today, he wouldn’t be surprised if he got shanked for looking at someone the wrong way.
Right as Ray opened the door to exit the stairwell on the fourth floor, he ran right into someone walking in the halls, and the man he bumped into fell onto the ground awkwardly, not even using his arms to cushion the fall.
“Fucking hell,” Ray muttered as he offers his hand out to the fallen man. “You alright man?” But as he does so, he notices something a little odd about him. The guy was pale, unnaturally so, and his eyes seemed to be rolled so far up Ray can’t even see his pupils. Was he another druggie? As Ray was reconsidering helping the man up, the once prone man leapt up of his own volition and pounced on Ray aggressively, tackling him to the floor.
“What the fu-”, before Ray can react, the man’s mouth was bearing down on him, seemingly ready to begin munching down on him. Reacting purely on instinct, Ray raised his left forearm, trying to use it to shield his face. With no hesitation, the man bit into Ray’s arm, causing Ray to yell in pain. Using his right arm, Ray grabs the handle of his heavy briefcase, and swings it into the man’s head, smacking the jaw with a heavy thud. The tight grip on Ray’s arm was loosened, which was enough to allow Ray to slip his arm out and use it for a shove, flinging the man backwards. Scrambling to his feet, Ray took another look at his attacker, whose jaw seemed to have been entirely dislocated, yet was not showing any signs of being in pain.
Gripping his briefcase with both hands, Ray lunged forward with another vicious strike, and his opponent simply allowed it hit him with no attempt to block or dodge the attack. When the suitcase made contact, there was a sickening crack, and the man fell to the ground, this time completely still.
Ray briefly considered one more hit for good measure, but figured that that would probably put him outside the legal realms of self-defense. Instead, he opted to just head back to his room, nursing his wounded arm. Somehow, the man had bitten through not only his shirt, but also his jacket, resulting in a bloody mess of torn skin. Locking the door behind him, he took out his phone to call the cops to report the incident but figured he should clean the wound first.
It seems the fight took a larger toll on Ray than he originally thought, and now that the adrenaline was no longer pumping, he felt a heavy fatigue take over. Even the pain of washing the injury wasn’t enough to shake it off, and he wanted nothing more than to just close his eyes and conk out. Ray’s place had no bandages, and he certainly wasn’t about to go to the hospital, so he just wrapped a towel around it and hoped for the best. By the he was done, he could barely stay on his feet and keep his eyes open. Maybe he’ll call the cops tomorrow instead…
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Ray woke up with a ravenous hunger, which makes sense, seeing has he skipped dinner last night. Groggily opening his eyes, he found himself on his bed, still wearing his work clothes. With his blinds closed, he had no idea what time it was, and he sincerely hoped it wasn’t 8 am yet, though he suspected he was likely going to be late for work today. Reaching for the nightstand, he grabbed his phone, but found that it was dead. Strange, considering it was still at around 20% last night. Shrugging, he plugged it into the charger before taking off his clothes and heading into the bathroom for a shower. As he did so, he checked his bite injury again, and was shocked to see how much it had healed. Just last night, it was fresh and still bleeding, and somehow it had healed overnight to just being a scar?
Having a bad feeling about the state of things, Ray left his bathroom without bothering with the shower, and turned on his phone, which was now sitting at 2%. His heartbeat going crazy, he stared at the phone’s start up screen as it booted up. “C’mon, c’mon”, he muttered, trying to confirm his suspicions.
Finally, the phone was on, and Ray immediately checked the date. A bright JAN 16 was showing in the top left corner. Except yesterday was January 8th…wasn’t it? At that moment, Ray noticed the absurd number of notifications on his phone. 24 missed phone calls. 108 unread text messages. What the hell was going on? Even if he missed work for a week, there shouldn’t be that many messages. He wanted to go through these right now, but at that moment, his stomach growled, reminding him that if the date was correct, then he hadn’t eaten anything in over a week.
Quickly, Ray began boiling some hot water for preparation for instant ramen and decided to take a shower in the meantime. Clean and food ready, he sat down in his dining room, which was really just an extension of the kitchen, and flipped through his notifications as he ate. A lot of phone calls and text messages January 9th from his boss, which makes sense. The messages were all work related, so he quickly scrolled past them. More messages and calls followed on the 10th, mostly more of the same, though there was a message from the landlord saying there was to be a police investigation of the murder that took place here. On the 11th, it seemed he had received some messages from his friend Kevin, who was apparently wondering how the riots were on Ray’s side of the city.
Confused, Ray opened the shutters and took a quick peek outside, but the view wasn’t great, and he couldn’t see too much outside. Going back to his messages, he continued scrolling through the more recent ones. Lots of missed phone calls from Kevin, as well as Ray’s little sister, Alice, which was certainly a surprise. They’d hardly gotten along when they were younger, and the relationship certainly hadn’t improved over time. After all, he was the anti-social low achiever, content with mediocrity, while she was blessed with both charisma and intelligence. She had left several voice mails, warning about mobs of sick people rioting all over the city, and maybe even the country, with lots of casualties. She advised that he should either get to a shelter or stay put, but definitely don’t wander outside. Her tone was curt and direct, but the fact that she bothered at all put her a step above their parents. With his phone charged, he tried calling her, but found that there was no signal. After trying to search stuff up online, he found that his Wi-Fi router was seemingly down, and so was his mobile data.
As much as Ray wanted to heed his sister’s advice, he was running out of food. He had intended to buy more last week, with his heavy workload, he never got around to it. Kicking himself for his laziness, Ray slowly unlocked his door and took a careful look around. The hallway was the same as always: silent and reeking of weed. Slowly, Ray left his room, peering down the halls both ways and not seeing a soul. Perhaps the riots have already ended? The elevator, unsurprisingly, was still down, so it was back to the stairs.
As Ray headed down, there was a certain tension in him that he himself couldn’t describe. While he didn’t consider himself a coward by any means, there was something about the atmosphere of this building that was just simply off, and it unnerved him greatly. This tension only grew when he saw bloodstains on the ground floor, covering the handrails and doors.
Swallowing his saliva nervously, Ray pushed open the door to the ground floor, and the amount of blood on the smeared all over the walls was nauseating. The streaks of blood went in every which direction, to the point where it was easier to point out which parts of the wall wasn’t covered in blood. Out of the corner of his eye, Ray saw a familiar grey outfit, the uniform of the building janitor: Jenkins.
Ray breathed a slight sigh of relief. He knew Jenkins, and while they were hardly friends, they both mutually tolerated each other, which was more than he can say for most of his neighbors. However, as Ray approached him, he felt that something was wrong. Very wrong. Jenkins was crouched on the ground, back turned to Ray, and was doing something with his hands.
“Hey, Jenkins, you alright?” Ray called out, only to be ignored. His sense of unease was growing, but he pushed it to the back of his mind as he walked closer. In that moment, Jenkins, or what’s left of him, turned around. The poor man’s face was absolutely shredded, both eyeballs gone, and his nose was caved inwards. By all logical standards, he should be well dead, yet here he was.
As Jenkins stood up, Ray got a clear look of what the dead man was crouching over: a corpse, with its guts spilling out and mangled. It didn’t take a genius to figure out who was responsible for that. The sight was too much for Ray to handle, and his legs gave out beneath him. It was fortunate that he has used the bathroom beforehand because he would doubtlessly be pissing himself if there was anything left in the tank. Slowly, the corpse of Jenkins shambled closer and closer, yet Ray was frozen with fright. Despite the warning signals his brain was sending, his muscles simply weren’t responding. This was it. This was how he was going to die. Ignobly and pathetically, offering zero ounce of resistance. But it seemed like life had other plans, because zombie Jenkins, with that limping shamble of his, walked right past the fallen Ray and began climbing the stairs upwards, slowly but steadily, and before long he was out of sight.
“What on earth…” Ray said to himself, watching as the zombie disappeared from view. Did it just ignore him? It seemed happy to eat humans just fine, so why did it not seem interested in him at all? Suddenly, he recalled the moment before he blacked out for a week, when he was bitten by that druggie. Rolling up his sleeve, he double checked his arm. The scar was there, albeit faintly. However, Ray didn’t have long to think about it before he was faced with another decision: in the floors above him, he can hear screams of absolute terror. Was that what zombie Jenkins was going after?
Ray considered going to help out but discarded that idea almost immediately. His own life was far more valuable than anyone else here, and he wasn’t about to rely on a sample size of one to conclude that he was safe from zombies. First things first, he needed to arm himself. The janitor’s office was right here in the lobby, and it was conveniently unlocked, probably by Jenkins before he died. Inside were an assortment of mops, brooms, and other useless tools, but tucked away in a corner was a crowbar, which Ray could put to good use.
By now, the screams had stopped, but Ray had heard tons of footsteps the floor above. Were they all zombies? Clutching his new weapon tightly, he slowly went up the stairs to the second floor and was met with a grisly sight. A freshly killed woman, her face twisted with terror even after her death, being feasted upon by over ten zombies in the second-floor hallway, only meters from the stairwell. He can feel his stomach churning in revulsion, and forcible swallowed the bile that was rising out of his throat. Leaning against the wall with his eyes closed, Ray tried to prepare himself mentally. Every ounce of his body rebelled against the very idea of getting close to that feasting horde. Slowly, one foot in front of the other, he inched his way closer, eyes peeled for any sign that the zombies have noticed him. But they were happily gorging themselves, and it seems he was being well and truly ignored. Feeling slightly braver, Ray sprints forward, dashing past the feasting zombies and making for the third floor, and still, they don’t react. After confirming that they aren’t following him, Ray returns to the fourth floor, to his room, where his first order of business was to vomit his morning meal into the toilet. Having done that, he promptly went back to bed, because if he simply ignored the problem, surely it would just go away?
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Unfortunately, when Ray woke up from his nap, sweaty from his nightmare, nothing has changed. The only difference was his hunger levels, which have only increased. After an hour of deliberation and procrastination, he came to the conclusion that he had no choice but to go back outside.
You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.
In order to be safe, Ray clothed himself in his thickest winter clothes, hoping they would be bite-proof. It was unbearably hot and uncomfortable, but it sure as hell beat dying. Armed with his crowbar, he once again exited the shelter of his home and into the halls. Like before, the fourth floor was completely deserted, with no zombie or human in sight. Downstairs, back on the second floor, the zombies had finished feeding, and were just standing around the corpse idly, as though they were bored. Interestingly, it seemed like the corpse hasn’t zombified. Perhaps there simply wasn’t enough flesh left to reanimate?
Taking a deep breathe, Ray slowly walked past them, heading down to the ground floor. As expected, no reactions whatsoever. However, he wanted to conduct his experimentations on a single, isolated zombie if possible, just in case something went wrong. In one of the hallways on the ground floor, he spotted a short male zombie just standing there, facing a door.
Ray wondered for a moment why it was down here and not on the second floor with the others. Did its human detection range not extend that far? Regardless, Ray approached the zombie from behind until he was just a foot away and gave the zombie a quick poke with his crowbar. No reaction at all. Slowly, Ray raised the crowbar above his head, and smashed it downwards into the zombie’s knees. Not a fatal blow, but a crippling one. Immediately after, Ray scampered backwards to observe any possible signs of aggression. The zombie collapsed to the floor, yet remained unmoving otherwise, not even turning towards Ray or acknowledging the attack in any way. How peculiar.
Having assured himself of his safety, Ray ran back upstairs, this time with more confidence, before shedding his ridiculous outfit in favor of more comfortable clothing. Slinging a backpack onto his shoulders, he left the apartment building for the first time since he woke up and was greeted by the sight of absolute carnage on the city streets. Multiple car crashes rendering the road unusable to vehicles and zombies were occupying the space that’s left. The residual smell of gasoline and corpses was still present, and in the far distance, Ray can see buildings still on fire.
Carefully weaving his way around the crowd of zombies, Ray made his way to the local grocery store. Incredibly, it seems the place had hardly been looted, which was difficult to believe. Does that mean the zombie attack was so sudden people didn’t have time to stock up on supplies? Trying not to think too deeply about the implications, Ray began stocking up on food, starting with the perishables. While the store’s electricity and therefore refrigeration system was still functioning, there’s no telling when it could shut down due to a lack of human maintenance.
Soon enough, his backpack was full, but there was so much more for the taking. Looking around the store, Ray saw a row of shopping carts, and an idea came to mind. Soon, he was lugging shopping carts worth of food out of the store back to the apartment. There was no way he could get it all to his room, and even if he could, it wouldn’t fit his fridge, so he looked around for the landlord’s master key to open up the ground floor rooms and stored the food in the fridges there instead. It’s not like he was expecting any of the tenants to be returning here, after all.
A tremendous undertaking, as far as Ray was concerned, but one necessary for his survival. Not just food either, he would have to go around town looking for various useful tools eventually, but for now, he was content with what he had.
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5 days had passed since Ray’s first day in this apocalyptic wasteland, and honestly? It wasn’t too bad, all things considered. The city’s water and electrical systems were still functional, and he had enough food to last him quite a good while. Now, the lack of internet access was painful, but he had plenty of single player games and torrented movies on his laptop to kill time with. Above all though, he got to enjoy the solitude he had craved so much. No more early morning rushes to catch the bus, no more hour-long phone calls with stupid clients, and no more boring team meetings. To Ray, this world may well have been tailor made to fit his tastes.
The only thing Ray missed was his collection of porn. Indeed, he had most of his favorites bookmarked, but not downloaded, so he no longer had access to any of it, which meant he had to use his imagination like a lowly peasant. Just the other day, he was so starved for women that he had almost contemplated using a female zombie for stress relief, but had discarded that idea almost immediately out of disgust.
During this time, Ray also tried his best to learn about zombie behavior. He suspected that they didn’t really see or hear things, but simply have an innate sense for living things, and unless they’re actively feeding, they tend to just stand around in a place familiar to them when they were alive. Notably, he saw huge swaths of zombies just standing in front of a bus station, before collectively dispersing as night came. Out of curiosity, Ray followed one of those zombies as it left the bus station and found that it had returned to the front door of a house, presumably the zombie’s house. Obviously, it was incapable of entering, so it just stood there in front of the door, waiting forlornly for daytime so it can return to the bus station to repeat the cycle. This showed that some zombies do retain a sense of habit, which was honestly quite creepy to Ray. Brainless hungry monsters he was okay with, but the implication that there could be something human inside? That was too much to think about.
Another fascinating discovery Ray made was that not all zombies actually looked like zombies. Some initial vectors of the infection bore absolutely no injuries or visible wounds, and since their flesh seems to not rot, they just ended up looking like grey humans. He would have to take care not to accidentally mistake actual humans for zombies, but that’s assuming there were any humans left in this town. Ray had gone around various stores around his apartment, and he didn’t see a single active zombie, meaning there were no live humans in the vicinity. Perhaps that meant he should expand the scope of the search, though Ray wasn’t actually sure if he wanted to meet any other humans. What was there to gain? He was perfectly happy living alone, with no expectations and no obligations on his shoulders. Plus, if he met any survivors, he’d likely have to explain his condition, and he could already all the ways that it could go wrong. No, he’ll keep to himself, as he’s always done.
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Ray spotted the SOS banner about a week later by accident. He had been trying to map out the whole city, since plenty of roads were completely blocked off now. When circling the norther edge of the city, he had heard human voices. Genuine, human voices. Getting on a bicycle he had appropriated from a now deserted house, he biked up north check it out. Of course, Ray knew what was up north: his university. The only reason he didn’t attend at the time of the breakdown was because of his internship, and he was not eager to return. Getting within a block of the university, he could see bustling human activity, survivors of all age groups trying to set up barricades and other forms of protection against a coming horde, and they seemed quite successful. By perching themselves higher than the zombies can reach, they effectively reduced the threat of zombies to zero. It wasn’t just students either, as it seems small contingent of police officers were with them as well. Eyeballing it, Ray counted maybe fifty people? Taking out his map, he marked down the university as a hub for survivors.
Good for them, Ray thought to himself, as he began biking away. It was good to know there were other survivors, but he had no intention of joining them unless he was truly desperate. More people meant more drama and less resources, and he knew he wouldn’t enjoy taking orders from a leader anyway.
Right at that moment, a bit in the distance, Ray saw a four-story shopping mall, or more specifically, he saw a large white cloth dangling from the roof, swaying gently in the wind, with the letters SOS written on them. This was a recently constructed mall, and he didn’t know the layout of the building very well, so he was hesitant about entering. He hadn’t brought any weapons with him today, and who knows if there’s even any survivors left to save. Plus, he wasn’t done with his cartography yet.
However, the image of that banner never left Ray’s head, even when he got back home. Living like a hermit was good and all, but he’d like some information regarding that week that he was unconscious, and perhaps whoever is trapped there would know more about the zombies and how this whole thing began. While he could always go to the university instead, he figured if he ended up saving some lives at the mall, they’d be indebted to him and be more helpful. His confidence was bolstered by the fact that, in the worst-case scenario, he could use the zombies as his allies if the survivors were unfriendly. While Ray couldn’t control zombies, he could easily flee into a zombie horde to evade potential enemies, though he would rather not do that if possible, since it would give away his secret.
When he returned to the mall, Ray saw quite a large gathering of zombies all around the building and inside on the first floor, which suggested that at the very least, there used to be people here. Whether they’re still here required further investigation. The escalators have stopped working, but the lights were still on, so at least part of the building is still being supplied with electricity.
Ray took his time exploring the mall, grabbing any food items that were still left. The second floor was mostly electronics, and the third floor was mostly clothing, so they were of little interest to him. From the third floor, there was no direct access to the fourth floor however, and the elevator wouldn’t take him up there unless he had an employee’s key, which meant Ray had to go back down and look for the staff rooms.
Near the back of the mall, behind a mass of zombies, was a door marked “staff only”, and in there, Ray found a staircase which led up to the fourth floor. But when he got up there, he found that he couldn’t actually push open the door because something was blocking it from the inside. Probably a barricade of some sort, Ray though to himself as he went back down. After looking around some more, he found another elevator, this one without any restrictions, and he was finally up on the fourth.
When the ding of the elevator signaled that he’d arrived, he quickly readied his crowbar and surveyed the room he was in. It seems like the fourth floor was where all the offices were. The computers have long been abandoned, but it looks like this place has definitely been occupied. Cardboard lay strewn on the ground, serving as makeshift beds, and there were plenty of garbage laying around too, from discarded soda cans to crumpled empty bags that once contained chips. All merchandise from the stores down below. Beyond the offices was a large conference room, not unlike the one Ray had used during his internship at the accounting firm. There were more signs of life here, and chairs were lined up to allow someone to lie down, but still no signs of any actual people. The next room beyond seemed to be a security office of sorts, with four monitors on a single PC system, like the other computers, it too was off.
Suddenly, Ray heard the light thumping of footsteps behind him, and he whirled around, ready to defend himself, only to feel slightly silly when he saw that the footsteps belonged to a little boy, probably no older than seven. The boy, eyes wide, looks back and forth between Ray and the crowbar in his hands, before tucking tail and running away, leaving a stunned Ray standing there awkwardly.
Chasing after a kid in a cramped office was harder than anticipated, but Ray eventually found the boy in what appears to be the manager’s office. Potted plants decorated the room, a large imposing desk positioned at the back, and two large sofas were next to a central table. On one of the sofas was a slightly older girl sleeping peacefully with another little girl around the same age as the boy, who was quickly shaking them both awake. All three of them had the shade of brown hair, which suggested that they’re related in some way.
“Mmmhm, what is it Jason?” The older girl said, yawning as she stretched. She froze when she made eye contact with Ray, who was standing in the doorway. In a panic, she tried getting up quickly, only to slam her left knee into the table with a yelp as she did so. Even as she clutched her knee in pain, she still managed to spare a panicked glare at Ray, as though warning him to back up. It was a bit ridiculous, to be honest, being glared at by a frail girl holding back tears of pain with hair so messy it resembled a tumbleweed. Her clothes too, were wrinkled and dirty, a sign of constant wear. Despite all that though, she was still quite attractive…or maybe Ray’s standards have simply dropped since all he’s been looking at are dead people.
Dropping the crowbar at his feet, Ray raised both his hands above his head in the universal surrender gesture. “Hey there. I uh…Saw your sign on the roof,” he said, trying his best to appear friendly. He almost stuttered on his words, since it’s been quite a while since he spoke to anyone that wasn’t himself.
Realizing that actions probably spoke louder than words, Ray offered the girl his backpack, containing food he grabbed from downstairs. Cookies, bread, pastries, dry cereal, and bottles of water. Hardly nutritious, but serviceable. “Here. You guys probably didn’t have much to eat in here, right?” He said, and it was likely true, given how pale and frail they all looked.
The girl blinked in confusion at first, probably still half-asleep, but the two younger kids needed no invitation, and they quickly dug into the backpack. It was rare to see younger kids not be picky about food, but that’s what weeks of starvation gets you. Seeing them tear into the food greedily, the teenage girl offered an apologetic smile to Ray. “I beg your pardon for the hostile reception, you caught me by surprise, and what a pleasant surprise you were! We’ve been running on scraps since…” she paused, as if unsure of the passage of time. “You know, I’ve been sleeping so much recently I don’t even remember how long ago it was. But regardless, thank you so much!”
Her overly polite tone came as a surprise, since Ray hardly knew anyone who talked liked that. He noted that she waited patiently for the two kids to finish eating before touching any of the food herself, and even then, she was a lot more restrained than they were. Good upbringing, perhaps? “There’s more where that came from, you know?” He said, tapping the backpack. “In fact, I can leave the rest with you guys.” Hopefully that puts her at ease.
“I know I’m repeating myself here, but thank you so much, truly. If you hadn’t show up here when you did…” She paused awkwardly, and it took Ray a second to realize that she was probably waiting for him to introduce himself.
“Raymond, but you can call me Ray,” Ray said, sitting down on the opposite sofa and offering his hand to shake.
“I’m Liz, and these two are my siblings, Jason and Mia,” Liz said as she shook Ray’s hand. “Our whole family were on our way to the shelter when the news first reported of violent riots, but our car was attacked, and we were separated from our parents. We joined a couple of others and holed up here, but the food supplies did not last very long, and soon people were trying to head downstairs to scavenge, but none of them ever came back. I would’ve tried too, but when I think about leaving these two by themselves…” her voice trailed off as she stared at her siblings lovingly.
Ray could hardly emphasize. It would be a cold day in hell when Alice was willing to go that far for him, but it was good that those three had each other. Definitely a more loving family than his.
“So, Ray, are you just a survivor like us, or are you part of a larger rescue effort,” Liz asked, her tone hopeful.
“I’m just a regular guy,” Ray said while shaking his head, dashing her hopes. “And the world outside is still incredibly dangerous, so who knows how long it’ll take until they arrive.” He chose not to mention that he could conveniently bypass that danger.
Liz stopped mid bite, as if trying to absorb this information. “Do you think…do you think you can help us get out of here? In fact, you don’t have to worry about me, if you can get the kids out, I can handle myself!” She was clearly desperate, her gaze pleading. Sensing her urgency, the two kids both watched the conversation unfold intently, showing understanding beyond their years.
“There’s no way, especially not with younger kids,” Ray replied, denying the possibility entirely, and he wasn’t even lying this time. It was true that he couldn’t be trusted to protect two kids in such a dangerous environment. Even the nearest safe haven, the university campus, was blocks away. Plus, what reason was there for him to go that far for three strangers? He had originally come here in search of information, but they probably knew as much as him if they never left this building. More importantly though, he didn’t want to be responsible for more lives. Sure, Liz was cute, but that’s all she was. Plus, he definitely had no intention of playing as a babysitter. In the end, he could see no tangible benefits for helping them.
“I see,” Liz said, her eyes downcast. Sensing her distress, the little girl, Mia, went over and gave her a hug, to which Liz responded to by gently patting her head. “I apologize for asking for so much,” Liz said to Ray, and he was slightly taken aback by her sincerity. Was he the one that was too cynical?
Feeling a tinge guilty about abandoning them to their fates, Ray reached into the backpack and emptied it of its contents, before turning to Liz and saying: “clearly, you guys need this more than I do. Also, if I run into any rescue teams, I’ll be sure to tell them where you are.”
“Are you sure you don’t need any of it,” Liz asked, her blue eyes filled with genuine concern. “I wouldn’t want you to go hungry feeding us.”
“I’ll be fine, I can always scavenge more,” Ray answered, standing up. “But I should probably be heading out now. The sun is setting and travelling by night is dangerous.” Technically not a lie. Though in reality, he was just tired from talking. He probably spoke more today than he did these past two weeks combined.
“Of course, of course,” Liz replied, “Do be careful on your way back. And…um…” She paused, and Ray could swear he saw her blush. Or it could’ve just been the light of the setting sun. Yea, that seems more likely. “Um…Feel free to return any time. We may not be able to offer you much, but I can promise you that this will always be a safe place to rest!” She finished, giving Ray a confident grin.
“Right, I’ll see what happens,” Ray says noncommittally as he waves goodbye. Liz and the two kids sees him off as he gets into the staff elevator once again. Would he come back just to see her? Probably not. Would they survive without him? Also probably not.
What. A. Conundrum.