Greg woke up to the quiet stillness of the apartment. The morning light filtered through the cracked blinds, casting long shadows across the cluttered floor. The first thing he noticed was the eerie lack of any electrical hum—no refrigerator running, no lights buzzing. It was then that he realized the power had gone out sometime during the night.

He sat up, stretching stiffly, and instinctively reached under his pillow, his fingers brushing the cold metal of the pistol.

He checked it immediately. The clip was still intact, and the safety was on. He had learned to be cautious with it, even though the weight of the gun felt reassuring. The rest of the room remained as it had been when they’d arrived last night: a mess of scattered supplies, empty cans, and the occasional piece of broken furniture. He quickly ran his eyes over the place, and his thoughts returned to his new companion, Daniel. The man had been quiet last night, and though he seemed like a decent enough guy, Greg hadn’t fully relaxed around him yet. Trust was earned in this new world, not given freely.

Daniel was already up, rummaging through their meager stock of food. His back was turned, and Greg couldn’t help but glance at him for a moment. He was the kind of guy who seemed like he could survive this, even if he hadn’t shown much of his hand yet. Greg wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

As Greg moved to the small kitchenette to make some coffee, he noticed the apartment had an odd, lifeless feel. There were no sounds of the usual city hum outside. He was used to hearing cars, voices, construction, and sirens. Now, there was nothing. That eerie silence had begun to feel like a presence all on its own. It was unsettling.

He grabbed his phone from the counter, hoping to check in on the outside world. Maybe there would be some news, some signal, something to let him know what had happened beyond the walls of this apartment. But as he flicked it on, a sinking feeling hit his gut.

No signal.

He toggled through the apps in frustration, checking the same message from his coworker, which now felt like it came from another lifetime. Then he checked the emergency helpline number he had called the night before, but still, nothing.

The cell towers were down.

Greg powered off his phone. The message was clear. Whatever was happening wasn’t local. It was global. And it was getting worse.

Daniel turned and noticed the look on Greg’s face. “Everything alright?”

“Cell towers are down,” Greg said, setting the phone down and leaning against the counter. “No signal. Looks like the grid is going down, one piece at a time.”

Daniel’s expression hardened, a quiet understanding settling between them. “So, no way to get word out... or get help.”

“Looks that way.”

Greg ran a hand through his hair, considering their situation. He couldn’t stay here forever. He needed more supplies, more answers. But now, he also needed to figure out how to navigate a world filled with walking nightmares.

The two of them ate quickly, a small meal of canned beans and crackers, then set out to figure out their next move. It had become routine now: keep moving, keep surviving.

But as they gathered their things, there was something else weighing on Greg’s mind: the water supply. If the electricity was out, how long before the pumps stopped working? They’d have to make sure they had enough to last them for a while.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

They decided to leave through their trusted fire escape instead of the hallway. The silence outside was almost deafening as they climbed down the rusted metal stairs. Each step echoed faintly, but neither of them spoke. They had learned to move with purpose, quiet and quick.

Daniel led the way, and Greg followed close behind, keeping his pistol at the ready. He didn’t trust his knife to do the job anymore. The pistol was his lifeline now.

After a few blocks, they reached a small convenience store. Daniel pushed the door open, and they slipped inside. The aisles were eerily empty, most of the shelves cleared out. They moved quickly through the aisles, grabbing whatever they could find. Bottled water, canned food, instant soup.

In a corner, Greg found an old radio, its worn casing still seeming to be in working condition. He quickly pocketed it, thinking it could be useful later, and kept it in his bag.

“Let’s keep moving,” Greg said, glancing over his shoulder to make sure the coast was clear.

As they made their way toward the exit, they were startled by a sudden noise—a crash from the back of the store. A zombie lurched out from behind a shelf, its distorted face barely recognizable as human.

Greg barely had time to react. The creature was on him, shuffling fast with an unnatural speed. He fumbled for his pistol, and his finger brushed the trigger as he aimed. The gun went off with a deafening crack.

“Shit!” Daniel shouted, rushing forward.

The shot had done its job, but it had also attracted attention. More of the undead were beginning to shuffle out from the dark corners of the store. Daniel swung the bat with precision, taking down one of the zombies before it could reach them. Meanwhile, Greg rushed forward with his spear, jabbing it into the creature’s chest with a quick thrust.

They worked together like a well-rehearsed team. The bat crushed skulls, and the spear jabbed deep, their movements fluid but full of desperation. When the last zombie fell, they both paused, panting heavily.

“That’s too close,” Greg said, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand.

Daniel was already scanning the room, his eyes sharp. “We need to move, Greg. Now.”

They backtracked, retracing their steps and finding a new route to avoid the zombies they had alerted. They had to double back a couple of times, finding new paths when their original route was blocked. Each time they had to stop and wait, holding their breath as more zombies passed by.

Finally, they reached the fire escape behind the apartment building. The coast was clear for now.

Greg climbed up first, his movements quick but cautious. Once he was safely over the edge, he gave Daniel a nod. Daniel followed, and they both entered through the window.

Back inside, they collapsed onto the couch, their muscles sore and their nerves fried. Greg glanced at Daniel, who was staring at the wall, his expression unreadable. Greg had learned enough about him in the past 24 hours to know that he wasn’t much for talking. But Greg needed to break the silence.

“So, what’s next?” he asked, not entirely sure he wanted to hear the answer.

Daniel let out a sigh, rubbing his eyes. “Today was too close. I suggest we take a break tomorrow. We have enough food and water for 4 days atleast”

“Only if we ration it to bare minimum. But I get your point.” Greg replied, his mind spinning. He stood up, walking over to the table. He pulled out the radio from his bag and showed it to Daniel.

Daniel raised an eyebrow, surprised. “A radio?”

Greg nodded. “I found it at the store. Since the cell towers are down, it might be our only way to communicate with the outside world.”

Daniel paused for a moment, clearly impressed. “Good thinking.”

After a quick meal, the two of them settled in, taking turns trying to tune into various frequencies. For over an hour, they caught nothing but static, frustration mounting with each failed attempt.

But then, several hours later, Daniel was lying on the couch when he heard something. A faint crackle from the radio. His heart skipped a beat, and he immediately grabbed the dial, tuning it carefully.

And then, through the static, came a voice.

“… safe haven established by local authorities. We are actively seeking survivors—if you can hear this message, make your way to the following coordinates for refuge.”

Greg froze, his eyes wide. "Did you hear that?"

Daniel nodded, his face pale. “A refuge. Maybe there’s still hope.”

Greg’s mind raced. This could be the break they’d been waiting for.

But the voice on the radio had said nothing more. The static returned, filling the room with a chilling silence.