Getting back on the footpath, in the opposite direction of where the car went, I head for the end of the street. A tall apartment building cut the sky in front of me in strange orange brick tones. The closer I came to the intersection, I saw the green and white printed road signs that indicated the major places if you decided to go in either direction.

Hospital and university on the right.

The next suburb, Manta, and the harbour on the left.

I wanted to get to the harbour first, so I make the decision to head in that direction. The street would have been picturesque. Manicured trees lining the street on either side of the road. Small glass windowed shops in neat rows behind them and the paved walkway, with an artistic mix of stone and concrete.

But in the few weeks that all hell broke loose, it was identical to the ruin that I’ve been walking through since I woke up to this. Broken glass, spray-paint profanities on any smooth surface I could see. Car bodies strewn about like a kid was playing with lego plonked them every which way. There was even a turned over ice-cream truck that was raided of the long gone (and long melted) contents.

It also became more apparent the further down the street that the tribes had declared their territories with graffiti that became a frequent symbols that would stick out on lamp posts and walls. Some were even a mess of drawing over the top of one another. It was something new but predictable to be frank.

At least if I stick around long enough I might be able to map out their designated areas and which ones were which so that I could predict their movements and stay the hell away from them. The dominant sign seemed to be a crude skull with three eye sockets and two protruding fangs. All done in white spray-paint. The guy sitting on that police car a few minutes ago came to mind.

I shake my head to dislodge the thought, I had better things to be focusing on than speculating. Like keeping my focus on my eyes and ears on the surroundings to make sure I don’t get jumped. Again.

As I make my way through the streets, one thing became abundantly clear; the streets were not as abandoned as I had hoped.

In fact, it seemed that there were more and more of these ‘patrolling’ vehicles and groups the closer I’m getting to the seaside. At first, I try to take to the backstreets but the alleys and tunnels only lead to turnarounds, dead-ends and padlocked gates, grates and doors.

My options have been severely limited and it was becoming more uncomfortable the deeper I went. I have had to hide in storm drains and service streets four times in the last ten minutes and it was becoming clear that my movements are being slowed down far more than I desired. A small group was making their way towards me as I had ducked into an already raided gas stop.

Hiding between the wrecked isles of spilled contents and overhauled crates and turned over shelves, I watch them walk down the street like the own the place. Their group probably did. Frowning, I slowly walk as to keep myself in their blind spot as I investigate my surroundings a bit closer. The register was pulled from the wall and thrown out the window, leaving behind a gaping hole in the service desk. Again, no food was in here either.

But there was some old newspapers that all read the same thing ‘The End is Nigh’, ‘Pandemic Collapses the Human Race’ etc. I abandon them quickly, ducking down behind a shelf as I see a shadow enter the building. The clicking of broken glass lets me keep a guestimate as to where it was heading. The way it squeaks underfoot meant that they were wearing shoes, eliminating my hope that it was just a cat.

Biting my lip, I speed crouch down the end and peek down the aisle in front of me that I think they’re in. Sure enough, two of them were swaggering about, crude weapons in hand. I look between them and the broken glass. I couldn’t make my escape with it all over the place and them within hearing. I’m barely managing not to step on it as it is.

Do I wait it out or run?

“What’s that?”

My breath dies as I get ready to bolt for it.

“Something.” The other answered.

“Ye’think it safe to eat?”

“Um no, idiot.” The second shadow, encased in a thick black hoodie and the hood pulled down low, smacks the first, a tall scrawny kid who couldn’t be passed fourteen, across the back of the head. He takes and chucks whatever it is away while muttering, “Why Skull ever let you tag along with me I’ll never know.”

The object lands and skids along the floor, stopping in front of me. I mouthed to myself the words printed on the small half opened pack, “Bicarb soda?” I frown. Oh good, one of them is an idiot at least. The white powder was spread out across the floor, mixing with the dirt and glass.

“Why’re we even here?” The lanky one asks.

“Because.” The second barks back.

I hold in a frustrated sigh and see the older on was stepping up to the register at the back of the store. I make a dash for the next aisle. Popping my head up every now and then, I get to the other end and watch them investigate around the back of the store.

“Hey, there’s a door here,” lanky boy pulls on the handle. “It’s locked.”

“Well done genius. We established that last time, remember?”

“Oh yeah,” the obviously stupider of the two half laughs. “Why don’t we break it down?”

“Skull has the key. We’re just making sure it’s still shut. Remember?”

“Oh.”

Interesting. Would this be a ‘storage’ spot for this ‘Skull’?

“What is it, Mace?” stupid one asks, half whispering.

“Thought I saw something.”

I hear their footsteps coming towards me and I steer myself around to the next aisle, slowly working my way back up as they were coming down the aisle I was just in. I’m now on the far side where the big glass doored fridges that once stored drinks and perishables but was now all smashed in and the spilt contents now hardened on the floor, smelling putrid as I try to not step on the glass or slip.

“A cat?”

“…Maybe…” ‘Mace’ (the smarter one) sounded like he was unconvinced.

I eventually end up near the register once again, blocked by the magazine rack from getting to the next aisle. I won’t be able to move through and loop around behind them without the risk of moving it and ultimately draw attention to myself. I instead head for the register and hide behind the service desk, getting as close to it as possible, hiding underneath where the stool once was but is now lying on its side outside after jumping through a window with the cash register.

If they as much as look in here, I’m dead.

I quickly gauge the distance over the desk and the ability to move out of their reach. My probability of making it out of here without them catching me is low. There are too many obstacles in the way for me to make a clear escape. Even if I could clear the desk, the fallen shelves and glass, there is still those two to contend with. Stupid may be stupid but the one that’s been called ‘Mace’ wasn’t.

Stupid looks athletic, so he might be difficult to shake off if I do clear the store. Mace looks like a charger on a football team. If his meaty hands get a hold of me, he could snap me in two and tie me up like a pretzel.

Another major issue is that I do not know the area. They very well do. This is their territory. They could call their buddies and herd me into any direction they want me to. Speed means nothing against numbers and clever manoeuvring.

My thoughts are disrupted as I hear the broken glass move, the screeching of the glass on cement meant that one of them turned around.

I hold my breath, hearing them take slow steps back up the aisle.

I reaching around and pull my bag out in front of me, digging into it for something to defend myself with. My uncle’s army knife’s smooth handle hits my fingers before I lose it to the bottomless cavity that is my bag. I try to control my breathing, my heart and my movements. I couldn’t let the weapon hit the tin cans or any other hard surface in my bag. I couldn’t draw any noise to myself as I could feel them getting closer.

“Hey, Mace!” Stupid’s voice was over near where I was just before, right where the magazine rack is. My hands freeze in my bag. Oh no…

“What is it now?” Mace on the other hand was directly above me.

I felt like I had bit through the thin layer of skin over my lip, I feel bile claw up my throat as my hiding place is about to be discovered. Out of the pair of them, Stupid is going to be the one to find me.