After a couple of seconds, because that was all you could afford in an apocalypse to gather your breath, Hannah prepared to stand up and brush everything off. One way or another, you ended up needing to learn how to prioritize and to look at the bright side.

“I’m good, I’m alive and I’m a-okay!” she said and slung her bat across her right shoulder.

Hannah took one step forward, saw the still disgusting puddle of monster juice littering the street, and halted momentarily in her tracks. It was now infested with flies and now one of those rats which was clearly from the dumpster right next to her had finally come out and greedily slurped up the juices.

“Ew.”

She scrunched up her nose and idly wondered if she could just tiptoe around that corpse’s fluids and then leave. Or maybe she needed to wait? She didn’t want any gunk in her already worn down sneakers. What if her shoes suddenly got holes from the stomach’s acid?! Even if the rat was happily chugging the juice down… it was hard to take any chances.

This was a big no-no.

You needed to have proper footwear in the apocalypse and she didn’t survive by taking enormous risks—save for this recent one, but normally you didn’t end up encountering a magical monster who saved you because they wanted you to leave.

“Argh… you can do this.”

Hannah knew she was actually delaying herself from leaving the alleyway where the door opened up, but she had to leave sooner or later. There was nothing good that could come out from interacting with other people.

“I dodged a bullet back there.” Hannah told herself.

She was determined to convince herself of that fact. Yes. She was supposed to be grateful that she didn’t end up dying. Pretend for a moment that her luck, terrible luck, finally gave her a win this day and survive that encounter with not only a Predator but that Vampire.

It had to be a Vampire, right?

It didn’t particularly matter.

She shook her head and finally tiptoed around the remains of the Predator, glanced over to the left and saw a couple more zombies just mindlessly standing in their corners–Hannah was fine as long as they didn’t sense her presence, aka, trigger their aggression, and soon she was walking down the opposite direction.

Hannah ended up staying close to the buildings, trailing her left hand idly across the bricks and feeling the dust accumulate through her fingertips. However, as long as she kept one side of herself protected from any sudden attacks, then it was fine.

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Where was she exactly going?

She didn’t exactly know.

The last place where Hannah ended up wasn’t… there anymore, so it was up to her to survive on her own or find another of those evacuation shelters or 'sanctuaries'. Although, if she was being honest, Hannah just wanted to survive all by herself because being with a lot of other people wasn’t as always wonderful as it cut out to be.

A soft guttural sound of death was nearby and when she looked up ahead, she ended up seeing one of those zombies just a couple feet away from her and it was still in a state of mindlessness. Hannah slowed down and took in the grotesque appearance of this person.

No.

It was the husk of a former person.

If there was anything there, Hannah didn’t see it at all. It was nothing more than a shell and a danger if she accidentally aroused the zombie to attack her if she dared come closer to its perceived determined territory or radius.

Hannah held her breath and bit back down the urge to gulp.

She could see that it was formerly a man, or seemed like a man based on its outfits. He was garbed in business attire, and there was even a briefcase with the zombie’s attached rotten hand still clinging to it underneath the windowsill of long-dead flowers.

Hannah even noticed the gleam of an old wrist watch attached to the zombie’s hand.

Most of the time, zombies gathered in packs and traveled across the wasteland cities, hunting and searching for prey. Hannah didn’t know if they had something like a hive mind, an ability to find prey, detect the living, or something else.

This one, however, was only standing close to one of the residential buildings and didn’t leave at all. Curiosity got the better of her and she ended up looking at the windowsill and wished that she didn’t.

It was nothing more but an old photo frame.

They were really old-school if they still kept those instead of posting them on the internet, but Hannah’s heart stopped a little at the sight of a father, child and dog in the picture. She didn’t know if it was the same zombie in front of her now, but she couldn’t help but feel a tiny sting of pain.

Single father.

Lone child.

If Hannah wanted to take a guess, when the sun went out and their lives were all overtaken by the start of the apocalypse, the man might have wanted to stay close to home and keep his child safe?

No.

Hannah involuntarily stepped back, choking back on something that lurched in her throat. She didn’t want this kind of imagination—she didn’t want to sympathize, feel bad or anything at all. There was no time for any of this nonsense daydreaming.

She wanted to stop thinking, stop feeling, she wanted—the zombie who had only been a couple feet away, mindlessly staying in place, suddenly leapt at her.

Hannah’s eyes widened, and she immediately swung with her bat.

It collided with the zombie’s face.

Or would have collided with it, if not for a door suddenly slamming open, hitting the zombie first and sending it flying across the street and undoubtedly destroying it on impact. Hannah ended up smacking something else, or rather, someone else entirely.

Mister Get-Your-Foot-Out-Of-My-Door caught the weaponized bat in his hand and threw an unimpressed look at Hannah, then back into the doorway. She heard footsteps coming around and then the familiar sight of a black cat prowling out to meet her.

However, Hannah’s gaze still went back to the man in question. She blinked up at her unexpected savior yet again, but before she could let out a word, the man beat her to it. He spoke again, this time displeasure evident in his tone.

Although he didn’t necessarily speak towards her.

“And yet again, my instincts are proven correctly. I told you it was a terrible idea.”