Chapter Text
Zelda had loathed walking for as long as she could remember. Never a fan of sports involving copious amounts of sweat and the possibility of breaking one's leg, she would always choose to remain at home and read a book in the comfort of her own bedroom on those summer weekends when, back in her childhood years, her father and siblings would go hiking in the woods. Not even her complicated liaison with Faustus – a man who, despite his many faults, liked to keep himself in shape – had managed to turn her into a fan of physical exercise and his several attempts at convincing her to sign up for yoga classes at the local studio had been consistently unsuccessful.
"A fat lot of good that would have done," Zelda whispered to herself, refusing to admit that Faustus' suggestions might not have been completely pointless. "As if knowing how to touch the back of my head with my feet would be of any use, now."
As she said so, distracted by the memory of that age-old quarrel with her former partner, she almost tripped on an exposed tree root, catching herself just before she fell on a pile of dried leaves. Mentally cursing herself, she stumbled backward, her breathing increasing slightly. She had to stop reminiscing about the past and focus on the road, for God only knew what would happen if she accidentally scraped her knee and nasty bacteria started colonizing her wound. She did have some antibiotics with her, that was true; but she didn't know much about medicine – not as much as her sister did, anyway – and it had been days since the last time she'd stumbled upon a pharmacy that hadn't been ransacked.
That last thought did, however, give her some hope: she knew that there had to be other survivors in the area – Hilda had managed to contact her during the first hours of that absurd catastrophe, shortly before all phones and the Internet had stopped working – and the looting of shops and buildings was a sign that someone else had been there before her. Problem was, the only humans she'd encountered since she'd embarked on that foolish voyage – two aggressive-looking men driving around a little Southern town in a pickup truck – hadn't seemed too friendly. She shivered, remembering how she'd hidden inside a dusty wooden shed, wrinkling her nose at the rotting smell while she had waited for the two men to leave. They had left, eventually, but only after spending hours inside a small supermarket to steal every last canned good and shooting at the windows of all the abandoned cars still on the main street with their rifles. That night, Zelda had chosen to camp outside the neighboring forest and she had gone to bed hungry, having eaten nothing but a miserable can of cold peas all day. Though, truth be told, she hadn't been able to sleep that well at all.
The woman couldn't remember exactly how long it had been since the last time she'd gotten her hands on something decent to eat, but, according to her calculations and poor orienteering skills, another rural town was a few miles away from her current position and she could likely find some shops there. She felt somewhat ashamed, then, because she had a good amount of just-add-water meals and protein bars in her backpack, and she was sure that there must have been people far less prepared than she was, starving and wilting away in some remote corner of the world, but she would be lying if she tried to convince herself that she wasn't craving a greasy McDonald's burger, possibly accompanied by fries and a can of Coke.
Her stomach let out a low gurgle and she checked her wristwatch. It wasn't even close to dinnertime yet, so she grabbed her filtered water bottle – the only useful thing Faustus had ever stolen from the sporting goods shop he used to work at, really – and she took a long sip, hoping that it would help her stomach hold out for a little longer. While she did so, she let her gaze wander, exploring her surroundings, and she spotted a shiny black object in the distance, about half a mile away from where she stood, in the middle of a gravel road. She'd sworn to herself that she would never travel so close to man-made paths, fearing another encounter with the threatening men she'd seen days before, but there was a tiny possibility that the unidentified entity could be a car – it looked like it, at least – and she would have traveled much faster if she'd been able to steal it. Even an old motorcycle would have been enough, though she didn't have the faintest idea of how to drive one.
Putting her water bottle back into her bag, she decided to get closer to the alleged car, listening carefully for any noise that might betray the presence of other human beings. The woods around her were eerily quiet: with the exception of the occasional bird's mating call, only the sound of the swift river flowing nearby could be heard in the background. Weeks before, when a big portion of the population had mysteriously disappeared without a trace, she'd often wondered if the same thing had happened to animals as well. She'd spotted a few birds and squirrels during her long journey across the forest, but not as many as she'd expected. Insects, on the other hand, seemed to be unaffected by the great tragedy, as her itchy bite marks could testify. At least, she'd never met bears and other wild creatures, which had been a small blessing.
Nearing the object, she could finally see that it was, indeed, an abandoned car. It wasn't uncommon to find empty vehicles on formerly busy streets, for there must have been several individuals driving around the country when most people had disappeared, even if it had happened in the middle of the night. She forced herself not to think about that first day and the hopelessness that she'd felt when she'd understood that Faustus wasn't the only man who had gone missing. Directing her attention toward the car in front of her, she saw that its state was quite decent – no flat tires or local animals that had chosen it as their new nest – and that the keys were still in the ignition. The person driving it must have stopped on the side of the road shortly before the catastrophe, though she didn't know why. Those days, most cars were inoperable, as they had crashed against the nearest buildings, lampposts, or trees after their owners had vanished. She asked herself if, perhaps, there had been some warning signs, which had allowed the unnamed driver to step out of the car, right before disappearing forever. In truth, she wasn't sure if she wanted to know.
Flopping into the driver's seat, she took a moment to appreciate the comfort of a soft surface after days of sleeping on twigs and branches. It took her a few tries to get the car going and, once the engine started rumbling, she saw that she had barely enough gas to get to the nearest speck of civilization. "Just my luck," she said to no one but herself, checking the map that she'd stolen from her town's library. Realizing that driving, even if only briefly, was still better than walking all the way there, she threw all her things in the passenger seat and she put her foot on the pedal.
The sun had begun to set when she arrived at her destination. The car had given out after less than half an hour and she'd enormously miscalculated the amount of time that it would take her to get there, but she'd reached the village, at last. The town itself was no more than a couple of houses and a tall church, but it would do. Careful not to make a sound, she crossed the decrepit city center, holding onto the large kitchen knife that she'd taken for defense purposes before leaving her home. The place looked like a ghost town and she prayed that that meant that no one had raided the small grocery store she'd seen when she'd first walked past the old welcome sign. She'd go there tomorrow, as it was getting dark and she didn't want to risk running into any aggressive survivors at nighttime. Instead, she started looking around for potential houses where she could get a few hours of uncomfortable sleep.
She settled on a white semi-detached house with a garden that must have once been rather beautiful, but it was, by then, nothing but a cluster of yellow weeds. She hoped that the door would be unlocked and her prayers were answered when she easily entered the foyer without needing to shatter any windows, as she'd already done far too many times in the past. The house itself looked rather elegant, in spite of the dust and the bittersweet smell of places that had been locked shut for too long. Not wanting to waste any time, she headed directly toward the kitchen and she meticulously scanned the shelves: there was a lot of food past its expiration date, indeed, but also some canned meat, a vast assortment of nuts, and two packs of beef jerky. She devoured the first two as if they were the best meals she'd ever tasted, but she kept the rest of the meat for later. Having spotted a case of bottled water, she grabbed it and she began to look for the bathroom, unable to resist the temptation to take a shower, albeit cold.
As she was pouring bottle after bottle of water on her shivering body, standing in the middle of a rusty bathtub, she thought that she heard a sharp thump coming from the adjacent building. Pausing, then, she listened attentively, but no other sound followed and she chose to believe that her mind had merely been playing tricks on her. Quickly drying herself up with towels that she found in a closet in the master bedroom, she put on a short nightgown that was a bit too tight for her and she slipped under the covers. The bed was unmade, the mattress too spongy, and the room itself rather chilly, but she fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow, her knife sitting on the bedside table next to her. Her dreams, that night, were filled with people she'd never met, yelling and accusing her of breaking into their houses, of stealing their things without a second thought. In her nightmares, she tried to apologize to them, begging them to forgive her, telling them that she had lost loved ones, too, but her words kept falling on deaf ears, covered by loud, rhythmical thuds. When she awoke, at last, she was relieved to see that there was no one else in the room with her, but the sound seemed to continue. In her dazed state, she realized that someone was outside, knocking on the front door. As it turned out, she was not alone.