After a while, the drone returned to Ivan, carrying a new note. It was clear Lucy had a knack for drawing, as the latest doodle depicted a playful shrugging figure with an exaggerated emoticon:
¯( ͡☉ ͜ʖ ͡☉)/¯
I don’t have anything ‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )‧º· I was gonna ask you if you have any more food. I’m almost running out. ONCE I’M OUT, I’LL BE EATING NOTHING BUT DOG FOOD! ༼;´༎ຶ ༎ຶ༽
Ivan couldn’t help but chuckle despite the situation. The note, while somewhat childish, conveyed a sense of urgency and desperation. He wondered if Lucy was a child or just someone with a whimsical way of communicating under stress. Either way, the message highlighted a problem: she was running out of food.
“Why is she acting like this when it’s the end of the world?” Ivan thought, feeling a pang of concern. His own supplies were dwindling, but he still had some noodles and canned food left. How was he going to get these supplies to Lucy?
He considered his options. The drone didn’t seem to have a way to carry much weight, and there was no easy way to send food down to another floor. He needed a plan, and fast. Maybe there was a way to rig something up that could help transport the food, or perhaps Lucy had other ideas.
Ivan decided to write back:
"I do have some food left, mostly noodles and canned food. However, I’m not sure how to get it to you. Do you have any ideas on how we can make this work?"
He attached the note to the drone and sent it on its way, hoping Lucy might have a solution or a clever idea. As he watched the drone disappear, Ivan felt a mix of apprehension and hope. Finding another survivor and being able to help each other might just be the key to getting through this crisis.
As Ivan waited for Lucy’s response, he heard the familiar buzzing sound of the drone returning. This time, however, the drone was carrying a rope, which was attached to it and extended down to the 17th floor. The setup was both ingenious and practical—a makeshift solution to their problem.
The drone descended slowly and landed on the balcony floor. Ivan’s eyes widened as he took in the sight of the rope. Lucy had clearly been thinking creatively about how to transport supplies between floors.
Ivan quickly took the initiative. He grabbed the rope and tied one end securely to a sturdy fixture on his balcony. With the rope anchored in place, he now had a means to send food down to Lucy and receive her responses.
He turned back to his dwindling supplies and decided to prepare a package of noodles and canned food. He carefully placed the items in a bag, ensuring they were packed tightly. Using the rope, he fashioned a makeshift carrier by attaching the bag securely and then hoisted it up to the balcony railing. With the package ready, he lowered it carefully down the rope.
As he watched the bag slowly descend, Ivan couldn’t help but feel a sense of accomplishment. The simple, yet effective system was a small victory in the midst of their dire situation.
Once the bag reached the 17th floor, Ivan pulled the rope back up and saw the bag being retrieved by Lucy. He hoped that the food would be a welcome relief and that Lucy would be able to figure out a way to send a message back or provide further instructions.
A short while later, the drone returned with a note from Lucy:
"Thanks a lot, Ivan! You’re a lifesaver! (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ) I’ll make sure to return the favor when I can. Do you need anything in particular? Also, you might want to keep an eye out for any infected around your area. The noise from the drone could attract them. We need to find a way to communicate better too. - Lucy"
“Oh shit,” Ivan muttered as he realized he had forgotten a crucial task. The barricade that had been holding strong at the bathroom door needed to be moved to the front door, where it was now urgently needed.
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With a surge of adrenaline, he dashed across the apartment to the bathroom. The barricade, a makeshift structure of furniture and heavy objects, was a hassle to move, but Ivan was determined. He heaved and pushed the pieces, grunting with effort.
To his relief, the process went smoother than expected. The barricade was sturdy, and he managed to transfer it to the front door without encountering any problems. As he secured it in place, he took a moment to catch his breath and check his surroundings.
Everything seemed to be in order. The barricade was firmly in position, reinforcing the security of his apartment against any potential intruders. Ivan's quick action had ensured that his temporary safety was maintained, and he felt a wave of relief wash over him.
He returned to his small living area, where he carefully placed Lucy’s note in his pocket. Her words were reassuring, but they also reminded him that survival was a team effort now. Even though they were separated by floors, the rope connection and the exchange of supplies had created a fragile bond between them.
Ivan took a deep breath and looked out from his apartment balcony, surveying the many floors below. The daunting view reminded him of the challenge ahead. With infected individuals potentially lurking in the hallways, attempting to navigate them was like signing his own death warrant.
He needed to find a way out of the building safely, avoiding the hallways where danger might be waiting. The evacuation point was a lifeline, but getting to it required careful planning and execution.
For now, his priority was to devise a plan to exit the building without putting himself at unnecessary risk.
what about Lucy? does she have a plan to escape here and go to the evacuation point?
Ivan carefully placed the note into the bag and lowered it down the rope to Lucy. His heart pounded as he waited for her response, hoping she had some idea, something that could make him feel like there was a way out. He didn’t have long to wait. Soon, he felt the pull of the rope as a signal to pull it up.
Idk, going outside is dangerous, so don’t do it unless absolutely necessary.
Evacuation point? If everyone has evacuated there, then that place is definitely a red zone filled with infected.
Ivan’s heart sank as he read the words. He had already suspected this, but reading it in black and white made it harder to ignore. The realization hit him like a punch to the gut. The evacuation point, the place he had hoped would provide safety, was likely overrun. His grandpa, who had been at the evacuation zone, was probably gone—along with anyone else who’d tried to find refuge there.
He had been clinging to the faint hope that Lucy might say something to lift his spirits, to give him some sliver of hope, but that didn’t happen.
Without thinking, Ivan punched the wall, his frustration spilling over. Pain shot through his knuckles, but it was nothing compared to the emotional weight pressing down on him. He cursed under his breath, biting back tears.
Breathing heavily, he slumped back to his makeshift bed in the living room. He lay there, staring at the ceiling, his mind racing with thoughts he couldn’t quiet. The room felt too small, the air too thick. Sleep should have been easy after everything he'd been through, but something kept gnawing at him, pulling him away from the rest he so desperately needed.
He forced himself to stand up again, feeling restless. His body moved on autopilot as he went to check the front door. It was still locked, barricaded as securely as before. He exhaled sharply and went back to his bed, but the unease in his chest persisted.
After a few moments, he got up again and walked to the balcony door, checking if it was locked. He slid his hand over the handle, making sure it wouldn’t budge. Three times. He glanced over the edge, looking out at the floors below, his stomach churning at the thought of what might be lurking beyond the walls.
Back to bed again. But it didn’t matter. Sleep wouldn't come.
He tossed and turned, trying to shake off the heavy feeling. Why can't I sleep? he asked himself, pressing his palms against his eyes in frustration. His mind was still whirling, his thoughts flickering back and forth like a broken switch, unable to settle on anything for long.
One more check wouldn’t hurt...
He got up, for the third time, and made his way back to the front door, his fingers tracing the familiar cold metal of the lock. It was still secure, just like before. He knew it, but somehow he needed to be sure.
Returning to his bed, Ivan felt the weight of the day pressing on him again. He let out a long sigh, closing his eyes, willing himself to relax. His limbs felt like lead, yet his mind was relentless, still circling around the thoughts of danger, of loss, of Lucy, and of his grandpa.
The silence of the room pressed in on him, and slowly, almost against his will, Ivan’s body began to succumb to exhaustion. His breathing slowed, his eyelids grew heavier. His thoughts, though still restless, began to fade into the background as sleep finally started to take hold.
But even in sleep, there was no peace. His dreams were muddled, filled with half-formed memories, fleeting images of people he couldn’t quite recognize. In the darkness of his unconscious mind, the looming threat of the infected seemed to chase him, lurking just out of sight, waiting for him to let his guard down.