Liam Hall

Wednesday, April 13th, 2022 (23 days after the Shutdown)

It turns out his luck was beyond terrible after all.

No, that description would be too generous. It didn’t even exist.

Every door he tried was locked and if it wasn't locked, the store was already looted. With his already grievous injuries, he didn't want to crawl over the window sills and cut himself on the glass shards.

That would be another thing to add to his growing list.

Burnt back and arms? Check.

Concussed head? A few more falls would do the trick.

Broken ribs? Check.

Whatever the hell had happened to his internal organs? Check.

If hospitals ever opened again, maybe they would offer him a discount.

Just as his stomach grumbled again and his knees and palms were growing sore from travel, a boarded-up shop at the end of the street caught his eye.

Red graffiti decorated the windows and the store name, "Krazy-K", was missing a few of its neon letters.

It was one of the few stores in the street that had been untouched by the vandalism.

Gripping the handles, he yanked them, hoping they would swing open but like everything else it was another dead end.

Liam was on the verge of tears again.

Choking it back, he leaned against the wooden planks that covered the door.

After 2 weeks of rationed food, the only thing that had been keeping him going was that quarter can of tuna mash he’d eaten a day ago. Now, a migraine was pounding at his head and his stomach and liver were protesting his scavenging efforts.

A soft mewling interrupted his self-pity.

Blinking at the ball of white fur until it came into focus, a cat was staring at him, sitting on its haunches.

His stomach grumbled staring at it.

Inching towards it, as soon as Liam got within arm’s reach, it scampered away.

“FUCK!” he screamed, the anguish and hunger he felt making him choke up.

Breaking down in a fit of coughing, he clutched at his chest feeling another clump of blood ready to pass through his lips. Another soft mewling from down the alleyway set his teeth on edge.

Liam, you’re going crazy. Take a breath before you go after a cat, a voice deep inside himself warned him as he scurried after it.

Shuffling to the edge of the building, a low brick wall wrapped around the side, hiding the dumpsters and the backlot from the view of the street intersection.

A commercial van with images of construction tools was the only car in the side lot and the white tabby cat was taking shelter underneath, nonchalantly licking its paws.

A thought clicked in his head.

How did I miss that? The back doors might be unlocked.

Hobbling past the van, he caught a glimpse of a white tail slipping through a window. Reaching through it, a soft click rewarded his efforts and the back door swung open.

Finally...

It was an abandoned retail market with construction tools scattered across the floor and shelves. Barely any light made it through the boarded-up windows.

Thick layers of dust covered everything around him and from the looks of it, he was the first one to step foot there in a while.

The boarded-up windows must be why it hasn’t been scouted or scavenged yet. No point in trying to break into an empty store.

Hisssss.

Locating the source, he saw the tomcat’s luminescent eyes stare at him before slipping under a splintered wooden door off to the side.

Excitement pounded at his chest.

Cautiously pushing the door open, the smell of stagnant air spilled out of the dark backroom. It’d been neglected for so long, it became a storeroom for boxes.

Moving past the rubbish that cluttered the floor, he found the cat sitting in the corner with a large rat squealing between its jaws.

“And that’s fucking disgusting,” he murmured, a chill going down his spine.

As if affronted by the comment, the cat turned away and feasted on the rat, the crushing of bones reverberating around the small room.

Liam looked around the space, confused. From what he had seen thus far, the combined area of the store he’d left and the room he currently stood in couldn’t possibly account for the dimensions he remembered from outside.

There has to be something around here.

Knocking his fist on the drywall, he listened for an irregularity until he finally heard it.

Clang. Clang.

Clunk.

Smiling, he drew his knife and hacked away at the drywall until a hidden door revealed itself. It’d been sealed away for so long that the wooden frame had splintered a while back.

Chipping away at the remains until he made a hole large enough for his head, he hesitantly poked his head through.

In the scarce light entering the room, he made out boxes and boxes of candy bars and aluminum cans. Liam’s eyes went wide in shock as he stared at the bounty in front of him.

Eagerly slashing through the closest box with his knife, the grin on his face felt foreign after weeks of struggling and suffering.

All that had finally changed.

Hearing the familiar crinkling of the wrapper, he trembled in anticipation.

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The rich bitterness of the chocolate swam through his mouth and it took him a few seconds to realize that his tears were tickling his chin.

Unable to control himself, he downed chocolate after chocolate. His stomach, unable to keep up with the sudden surge in food, retched out all he’d consumed.

Wiping a streak of bile with the back of his hand, he smirked, looking at the vomit covering his shirt.

I’d never thought I would be so happy to see me puke.

Walking towards the main area, he realized too late that his sudden burst in movement was beyond what he could afford. His legs promptly gave out from under him.

The last thing he remembered was the floor racing up to meet him.

Tuesday, April 19th, 2022 (Four weeks after the Shutdown)

Liam finally managed to walk the length of the abandoned store, which was an impressive feat given the day after he arrived his body broke out into fevered sweats.

***

Days ago…

Without any medication or rainwater, Liam’s already grievous injuries grew worse with time. Initially, he assumed it was his body’s way of recuperating but every passing day made him further doubt that.

His first mistake – aside from leaving Half Moon Bay to come on this damned quest in the first place – was when he threw his shirt outside after puking all over it, forcing him to cover his naked torso with cardboard boxes.

The cold still seeped into his bones, leaving him shivering on the floor.

Some days his body was so fatigued all he could do was lay there as he uncontrollably spasmed.

As the pain grew intolerable, every waking moment was another second he wanted to kill himself, the thought growing inside him like a tumor.

And then like magic, the fever broke.

Two days ago he woke up without a migraine pounding at his head or the sensation that his body was tearing itself apart. The only reminder of his fever was the soreness of his muscles and the smell of sickness that hung around him. Wiping at the mucus that had crusted over his eyes, he crawled toward the back of the store.

Everything was how he’d left it.

As he leaned against the wall to check the state of his cuts and burns, a miasma of rot grew stronger, making his eyes water from its potency. Glancing around for any explanation, to his horror he realized what it was.

The silky white coat and the quiet intelligence in its eyes had vanished. All that remained of the cat that led him here was a shriveled-up husk, twisted into an unnatural position like it had been possessed.

Tearing his eyes away from the morbid display, he rushed to the window sill for fresh air.

What the hell is happening? Squinting outside for what felt like the first time in years, his short-lived respite was shattered.

Hundreds of dead rodents and other vermin were coagulated beneath the loading dock, their entrails bone dry and spilling out of them.

They… ripped each other apart? Is this some kind of sick joke?

Returning to the back room, he gingerly packed the dead cat into one of the cardboard boxes and chucked it outside, shutting the door behind him.

***

Leaning against the metal shelf, Liam applauded his achievement. It wasn’t every day that you nearly died and then managed to walk 10 meters.

Wiping some of the sweat off his brow, he watched it cut through the dirt coating his hand. He read somewhere that the average person could only survive three days without water. Here he was, sweating waterfalls without having had a drink in over a week.

Thinking of the gruesome scene outside, he pondered.

Their bodies… they’re emaciated like they’ve been squeezed… dry… His thoughts lingered on that last word. The cat was inside though.

Rubbing at his temples he pondered what would become of him given his proximity to them.

Another cool bead of sweat trickled down his chin.

If he took the most logical route – however strange it still seemed – the cat and rats were victims of some deadly virus.

If that was true, the fever would have grown even worse but here he was, healthier than when he entered the city. The spikes of pain had disappeared from the burns and his body afforded him greater mobility.

To add to that, the bruising on his stomach had faded to a yellow, meaning it was in the healing process already.

How the hell is that even possible?

Stumbling towards the secret room in the back, he gave the cat’s death place a wide berth out of healthy caution and entered the room.

Crunch.

Soft resistance met his heel as he took a step forward. Stepping back, he squinted at the dark lumps visible on the floor.

In the time he was struck by fever, rats had invaded his inventory.

Heart-stopping at the thought that he’d lost everything, he rushed forward, ignoring the myriad of bones crunching under his foot. Of the twenty-odd that were there, only five remained, the rest having been chewed through and shat out.

“Funnily enough, I’m not even frustrated at this point. It’s just… annoying,” he mumbled to himself. “I suppose I have to be thankful for something.”

Nonchalantly kicking the corpses aside, he moved the remaining food to the main store area.

I wonder how… he thought, trying to remember their names… Garrett and Private Morales are doing.

Leaving that alleyway was a risk. If they had come back for him, he wouldn’t be there but if they didn’t return, he would’ve been exposed and probably dead without food.

He hadn’t heard them return, though he’d been blinded by pain and fever so there was that.

Looking over his shoulder at the five boxes of expired chocolate bars, he made up his mind.

Half-Moon Bay is out of the picture. The food on that shelf is more than I would ever have with them. Plus… he paused, carefully considering his next thoughts. … I don’t owe them anything anymore. I went into the city, despite recovering from my burns. I’ve done enough.

He pictured the walls that wrapped around the neighborhood and the squadron stationed there.

Sticking with them nearly killed me and going back with this food means it would be split amongst 1000 mouths. That's barely anything for each person either way. That’s not even considering the odds stacked against me even if I wanted to leave from here.

The pain from movement has lessened to a significant degree, but with a gang of muscle heads roaming the streets at night he still wasn’t in any position to survive alone.

Unless he could find a secure location to hole up in.

Or… I could make a location secure.

Spinning around, details he hadn’t seen before became clearer under further inspection.

Two of the four large front window panes had been cracked and a cold draft was flowing in. The roof seemed to be largely spared from decay but it had been hollowed out by unfinished renovations. The air ducts and electrical wiring were exposed, which would’ve been dangerous if there was any electricity flowing through them.

There was not.

The only security measures in place were basic lock mechanisms and the derelict appearance of the store.

However, with some elbow grease, it could be a better place to live than Half-Moon Bay.

Doing a quick tally of everything around him, there was just enough for his plan.

The main section of the store was a 10 meter by 10 meter area; rather small for a utility and discount store. With the metal shelves left behind by the previous owner, he could arrange them to reinforce the windows and walls.

Laying out the numerous tools left behind by the renovators, he ripped off some duct tape and started sealing the breaches in the windows, using copious amounts till he couldn’t feel any cold draft.

The bounty of toolboxes wasn’t done though. Grinning as he pulled out a headlamp, Liam said a silent 'thank you' to the god of renovators.

With a flick of the switch, the room was awash with light.

It was still midday so there wasn’t any concern about someone seeing him, but given how dark the store normally was he had to be careful. A little later in the day and he would stick out like a sore thumb.

Putting it on, he walked over to the back room and studied the armada of dead rodents littering the floor. Just like the cat, their last moments seemed to be agonizing.

Their stubby little paws were twisted in an inhumane manner and a few were ripped apart as if their fellow rats cannibalized them. Where the hell did this many come from?

Grabbing another empty cardboard box, he started sweeping them and their feces in. After going through two more boxes, he did a final sweep of the room, throwing out the rubbish that had been collected by the previous owners.

Doing the same with the cat room which lay between the hidden room and the main section, by the end of it, his total area increased to approximately 20 meters by 10.

With the access to light, there were other boxes for him to explore but it wasn’t the time for it.

Thoughtfully chewing on a chocolate bar, he surveyed the freed-up space. “Still a lot of work to do.”

Glancing down at the sheen of sweat on his naked torso, he got to it.