William grabbed the bat and wiped the blood off it using a torn piece of cloth from the counter. The sticky, dark stains smeared across the wood, but it was good enough for now.
He slung his backpack over his shoulder and began moving quickly through the pharmacy.
He stuffed the bag with whatever he could find—medicine, gauze, bandages, and painkillers. He grabbed bottles of alcohol and disinfectant, along with several bottles of water, packing them tightly inside the bag.
"Just in case," he muttered to himself.
Within minutes, the bag was nearly full.
William then began searching the store more carefully. He opened drawers, checked cabinets, and even looked behind the counter.
He was hoping for a gun.
A pistol. A shotgun. Anything.
But there was nothing.
William sighed under his breath.
"I can't fight this whole city with just a bat…"
He slowly scanned the store again, letting his eyes move across every corner.
Then he saw it.
Mounted on the wall near the entrance was an emergency fire box. Inside it were a fire extinguisher and a red emergency axe.
William immediately walked toward it.
"Now we're talking…"
He grabbed the handle and tried to open the case.
Locked.
"Of course it is."
He paused and carefully looked around the store, listening.
Silence.
No growls.
No footsteps.
No infected.
Once he was sure the area was clear, William lifted the bat and smashed the glass.
CRASH!
The emergency case shattered.
He quickly grabbed the axe and pulled it free from the mount. The weight of the weapon felt reassuring in his hands.
Much better.
William instinctively crouched low for a moment, listening in case the noise attracted any infected.
But nothing came.
After gathering everything he needed, William left the pharmacy.
Now he had one more goal.
His apartment.
Before the outbreak, William had registered a pistol and kept it locked inside his room. Back then it was for personal protection—working three shifts a day in a dangerous part of the city meant being careful.
Now it might be the only thing that could keep him alive.
He returned to the alley he had used earlier to escape the armed soldiers.
The back of his apartment building was quiet.
Too quiet.
William carefully approached the fire exit door. Seeing no movement in the alley, he raised the axe and smashed the doorknob.
CLANG!
The lock broke open.
He slipped inside immediately.
The stairwell was completely dark.
Luckily, William had grabbed a flashlight and spare batteries from the pharmacy. He switched it on, the narrow beam cutting through the darkness.
William began climbing the stairs, moving quickly but carefully.
First floor.
Second floor.
Third floor.
Every hallway corner.
Every stair landing.
He checked them all.
No infected.
When he finally reached the fourth floor, his heart was beating faster.
He rushed down the hallway and unlocked the door to his apartment.
The moment he stepped inside, his stomach dropped.
The place was destroyed.
Drawers ripped open.
Furniture overturned.
Cabinets empty.
His gun was gone.
His food was gone.
Every single supply he had stored was gone.
"They looted everything…" William muttered.
His fists tightened in anger.
"Fuck! There must be other survivors who grabbed my things!"
Rage burned inside him.
But before he could think further— A voice echoed from the hallway.
William froze instantly.
Someone was outside.
He quickly stepped behind the door, gripping the axe tightly and holding his breath.
Then he heard it.
"H-hello…?"
It was a girl's voice.
And strangely…
It sounded familiar.