Apartment 905 by Sahin, Ned (best color ereader TXT) 📗

“Are you infected?” he asks.

“Would we look like this if we were infected?” I point my empty hand to my face. An infected person shows symptoms right away, such as coughing, sneezing, fatigue, and dark spots under the eyes. Red spots on the face appear in the later stage of the infection.

“Are you vaccinated?” he asks again.

I realize why he is asking these questions. “We lost our masks on the way... Don’t worry, we haven’t come across anybody. We are not infected,” I assure him.

“I saw you have food,” he says. He must be hungry.

“We can share a can with you,” I say. I don’t want to leave him starving here.

Two more teenagers stand up behind the bushes a few yards from each other. They have arrows. I remember the things betrayer prepper partner Leyton told me about archery. The bows these kids are using have at least 50 pounds of draw weight. They appear having a hard time keeping it stretched. If they lose it, it would be deadly for us.

“Easy, guys.” I raise my shotgun while Toshi reaches for the hammer attached to his belt. “We can give you guys a few cans so you make it another day, okay? Then we all go our separate ways,” I say. No matter how threatening the situation looks, I still want to help these kids. I hope they don’t force me to use my shotgun. I also don’t want to be the target of those arrows. I see that both kids are starting to shake as they struggle to keep their bows stretched.

“We have two extra advanced masks if you need them,” Jason says.

It sounds like a peaceful exchange offer.

“But you should give us all the food you have,” he adds. The offer is not very favorable for us anymore, but we really need those masks. He is a good negotiator.

“We will keep some for dinner. The rest is yours,” I say. It’s worth giving most of our stock in exchange for masks. There is no way we would make it to San Francisco without them. Food is easier to find compared to advanced masks.

Jason makes a hand gesture to the other guys. They lower their bows. “Follow us,” Jason says with a smile.

They take us to a half-destroyed building. It looks like a factory that was abandoned decades ago. Jason told us that he was preparing for a nuclear attack for years. He found this abandoned place and used it as a bug-out shelter with two of his friends from school. His parents were always against his prepping hobby, and they didn’t participate in his plans, which caused them to be in the first group of people who died from the second wave.

Despite all the books I read and shows I watched about doomsday preppers, I had never seen a prepper kid, until now. He earns my respect.

He did almost everything right by preparing shelter and stocking food. What he didn’t think about is a lengthy apocalyptic event. His food stock dried up within three months. Since he and his friends didn’t have any renewable source of food, they had to start scavenging.

He gives us the only two extra masks he has in exchange for our canned ravioli. He gifts us some clothes as well. We finally could get rid of these pajamas.

I give one of the masks to Kathleen. I extend the other one to Toshi.

“You use it, man. We need your apocalyptic wisdom,” he says with a smile. It’s not fair, but we have to share two masks in one way or another. I accept his offer.

I look at Jason.

“What is your plan? Sticking around here?” I ask. He juts his chin out in the direction we came from.

“We are planning to go to Weldon Springs. I am sure we can find some houses that haven’t been marauded yet,” he says.

“You will only find trouble there,” Kathleen says. She tells them about the elderly group, but their narrowed eyes tell me that they don’t believe her.

“That’s true. Don’t even get close,” Toshi says, supporting Kathleen’s story.

They turn to each other with raised eyebrows. It looks like these young survivors are still confused.

“Best of luck guys. Stay safe,” I say. It’s time to go. We need to find shelter before it gets dark.

“You too,” Jason says.

It feels good to have a friendly chat with strangers, especially after the nightmare in Weldon Springs.

We are on our way again.

After half an hour of walking, we start looking for a farmhouse or cabin to spend the night. I miss the good old days when we checked a mobile app to book a hotel or hostel. It would be still useful to have a phone and travel app to find the addresses of the accommodations on the way. Even though these are extraordinary times, I still don’t want to break into anybody’s property. Borrowing a hotel room would be more humane.

“Check this out!” Toshi points to a white building about a mile away. From the tower-like shape, it looks like a church. We probably won’t find anything to eat there, but it shouldn’t be a problem until the morning. We have three cans for dinner.

We approach the church cautiously. I don’t hear anything except the chirping crickets. Toshi and I walk toward the church from the left and right sides. Kathleen watches us across the front door.

I try to look through the dusty windows. I can barely see the pew, but I can tell that there is nothing moving inside.

We get together in front of the door. It’s that question again. Knock or not? I decide to enter without a warning this time and reach for the doorknob, but Kathleen stops me.

“Let’s try the civilian way first,” she says and knocks on the door.

“Anybody in here?” she asks. There is no response.

“Shall we, now?” I ask with a sarcastic voice while adjusting my mask.

She nods and swings her hand toward the door. I signal Toshi