A week had gone by since Gregory Moore first locked himself in the apartment, a week of grappling with survival in a world he barely recognized. Each day was a routine of scavenging nearby apartments, rationing his supplies, and checking every creak or shadow for signs of danger. He had set up a barricade by the door and blacked out the windows to avoid any unwanted attention from the street below.

The isolation was wearing on him, but Gregory forced himself to remain focused. Despite the silence and unease, survival depended on being alert and resourceful.

He looked at the pistol and the bullets he had luckily found, feeling a rare comfort in their presence. Though he had never handled a weapon before, he’d spent some time practicing with it—loading and unloading the bullets, checking the safety, and trying to steady his aim. It wasn’t much, but it made him feel more prepared.

The more he learned about his surroundings, the more he realized he needed a plan. Simply hiding and surviving wasn’t enough if he was going to make it through whatever this world had become. As he lay on the floor one night, he began to map out routes in his mind, recalling streets and alleyways that might lead him to resources with less danger. Major roads would likely be crowded with zombies, so he’d need to avoid those. Smaller streets and alleys seemed safer, with the added benefit of leading to less obvious places that might still have supplies.

A few smaller stores in the area came to mind—places he’d barely noticed in his old life. Now, they represented his best hope for food and water. He considered each step carefully, resolving to move quietly and stay out of sight as much as possible.

The following morning, he gathered his supplies, securing the pistol at his side and carrying his trusted spear. Taking a deep breath, he slipped out the window and down the fire escape, his heart pounding with a mix of fear and determination.

The streets were a haunting scene of stillness and ruin, littered with debris and the remnants of a life that felt more distant with each passing day. Gregory kept close to the shadows, each footfall carefully placed. As he approached the first store on his mental map, he took a moment to listen, waiting for any sound that might signal a threat.

Inside, the store was a mess—shelves overturned, goods strewn across the floor. He moved quickly but cautiously, filling his bag with canned food, bottled water, and some basic medical supplies. Every rustle and scrape of his movement seemed amplified in the silence, but he pushed through his anxiety, knowing that these supplies were crucial.

A sudden noise shattered the quiet—a low, dragging sound, followed by a series of faint growls. He froze, his grip tightening around the spear. A zombie staggered towards him from the back of the store, its dead, sunken eyes fixed on him, its movements slow yet unnervingly purposeful. His instincts kicked in as he thrust the spear forward, the sharp blade striking the creature’s chest. It stumbled back but didn’t stop. Adrenaline surged through him as he fumbled for the pistol.

His hand steady, he took a deep breath and aimed at the creature’s head. The gunshot echoed through the store, the recoil jarring, but the shot was effective—the zombie dropped to the ground, unmoving. He stood there, his heart racing, the weight of the gun now feeling both empowering and burdening.

As he tried to collect himself, he heard a voice behind him. “Don’t shoot! I’m alive!”

Gregory spun around, keeping the pistol lowered but ready. A man, disheveled and looking equally worn by survival, stepped out from behind an aisle with his hands raised. “Please,” he said, his voice soft and filled with caution. “I’m just trying to survive, same as you.”

Gregory took a deep breath, lowering the pistol fully. “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,” he said, glancing down at the zombie. “Guess we’re all just a little jumpy these days.”

The man nodded, his hands finally lowering as he seemed to relax a little. “No kidding. I’m Daniel, by the way.”

“Greg,” he replied, giving a short nod. “Didn’t think I’d run into anyone else out here.”

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

“Same,” Daniel admitted with a faint smile, looking around at the scattered goods. “Figured everyone was either… well, like that one,” he gestured toward the dead zombie, “or hiding like I’ve been.”

“Where’ve you been staying?” Greg asked, his tone as casual as he could manage under the circumstances.

“Used to work down the block, at that electronics store,” Daniel explained. “When things went south, I barricaded myself in there. It’s got power, sort of, but it’s… I don’t know, not exactly a safehouse.”

Greg considered that, glancing back at the aisles, his mind already whirring with ideas. “That place is pretty open,” he agreed. “Might be time for a new setup.”

“Yeah,” Daniel replied, running a hand through his messy hair. “I came out for supplies, same as you. Problem is, I don’t really know where to go after this.”

Greg looked him over, sizing up the stranger. He seemed genuine enough, and something in him didn’t want to turn Daniel away. “Maybe we can figure that out together. This place I’m in right now—it’s secure enough, for now anyway. You’re welcome to come back with me, if you’re up for teaming up.”

Daniel let out a sigh of relief, nodding quickly. “I’d appreciate that, Greg.”

“Good,” Greg said, feeling a sense of relief himself. “Let’s grab whatever we can here—food, toiletries, medical supplies if there’s any left. We’ll also need something for protection. It’s… rough out there.”

They moved through the aisles together, quickly filling their bags with canned food, bottled water, and other survival essentials. Daniel managed to find a few bars of soap and a pack of toilet paper, things Gregory hadn’t thought of but instantly recognized as useful. In the sporting goods section, they picked up a metal baseball bat, and in the hardware area, a crowbar. Gregory tested its weight in his hand, feeling a small surge of confidence. He passed another bat to Daniel, who swung it experimentally before nodding his approval.

Once their bags were full, they made their way back to Greg’s apartment, planning to climb up the fire escape and re-entering through the window. The streets were still eerily quiet as they navigated the alleyways, their footsteps muted in the oppressive silence.

They had just reached the bottom of the first flight of stairs when a faint sound reached them—low groans and the dragging of feet. Daniel held up a hand, signaling Greg to stop. Ahead of them, a pair of zombies stumbled out from behind an abandoned dumpster, their hollow eyes fixed on some distant memory of life as they swayed and shuffled in the alley.

Greg’s hand instinctively went to the pistol at his side, ready to end the threat as quickly as possible.

“No,” Daniel whispered urgently, reaching out to lower Greg’s arm. “It’ll draw every one of those things within earshot. We’re better off keeping it quiet.”

Greg hesitated, then gave a quick nod, letting his hand drop back down. He shifted his grip on his spear, his heart hammering as the zombies grew closer, their twisted faces and clawed hands a horrifying reminder of how much the world had changed.

They positioned themselves in the narrow alley, weapons raised, trying to remain as steady as possible as the zombies approached. The first one, a figure with mottled, decaying skin and torn clothing, reached out with a jerky swipe. Greg sidestepped, thrusting his spear forward, aiming for its chest. The impact staggered the creature, but it kept coming, barely reacting to the blow.

Daniel stepped in, bringing the baseball bat down with a heavy crack on the creature’s arm, breaking it at an unnatural angle. But the zombie barely seemed to notice, lunging forward again.

“Go for the head or the heart!” Greg whispered urgently, gritting his teeth as he pulled the spear back for another strike. This time, he managed a clean hit to the creature’s chest, pushing it back just enough for Daniel to swing the bat with a powerful upward arc. The bat connected with the zombie’s head, making a sickening crunch. The creature finally slumped to the ground, motionless.

They barely had time to catch their breath before the second zombie lurched toward them, its mouth open in a grotesque moan. Greg shifted to the side, swinging the spear low to trip it. The zombie stumbled but quickly regained its footing, turning its lifeless gaze toward him.

“Got it,” Daniel said, stepping in with a quick, forceful swing of the bat. The creature staggered back, but it took more than one blow to bring it down. Each strike sent a jolt through Daniel’s arms, but he didn’t stop until the zombie finally collapsed in a heap.

Breathing heavily, Greg and Daniel exchanged a quick, wary glance. “Nice swing,” Greg muttered, his grip on the spear relaxing just a little.

“Thanks,” Daniel replied, giving a tired grin as he wiped sweat from his forehead. “You too. That spear’s pretty handy.”

Greg nodded, feeling a rush of relief now that the immediate danger had passed. Together, they moved carefully past the fallen zombies, keeping an eye out for any more threats as they climbed the fire escape to Greg’s apartment window.

Once inside, they took a moment to catch their breath, setting down their bags and weapons. The silence in the apartment felt like a small relief after the close call outside. Greg locked the window behind them, making sure it was secure before leaning against the wall and exhaling deeply.

“I think we’re safe for now,” Greg said, trying to steady his racing heart. His hands were still shaking a little from the fight, but he forced himself to focus.

Daniel nodded, wiping his brow with the back of his hand. “Yeah, but I’ll feel better once we’ve got some more supplies, maybe a real plan.”

Greg agreed. “First things first—we need to restock. We’ll figure out our next move in the morning. You’re welcome to stay here, if you need to.”

Daniel gave a tired but genuine smile. “Thanks, Greg. I’ll take you up on that. It’s good to have some company right now.”

Greg gave a nod of his own, glad to have someone he could rely on. For the first time in days, the sense of isolation that had been suffocating him seemed to lift, even if only a little. The world outside might have fallen apart, but at least, for now, they were in it together.

With a sigh, Greg sat down on the floor, sorting through the supplies they’d gathered. “We’ll make it through,” he murmured, more to himself than to Daniel, though he knew they both needed to hear it.

As the afternoon shadows stretched across the apartment, they began to prepare their supplies, setting aside food, water, and whatever weapons they could use. The quiet was punctuated only by the occasional clink of cans and bottles, and the dull hum of the world outside, now alien and full of danger.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Greg allowed himself a small sense of hope.