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

us again walking to the West. We are all in shock about what happened in the last hour. The church was a home of peace and hope once upon a time. It’s a bloody place of infected people and Ricas now.

As I think about the infected woman and man back there, a thought hits me hard. I stop walking and stare at Toshi in disbelief. He and Kathleen stop too. They look at me.

“What’s up?” Kathleen says.

I can’t move my eyes away from Toshi. She turns to him to figure out what’s going on. As she realizes he is the only one who doesn’t have a mask, she goes into shock as well.

Toshi shares a look with me and Kathleen.

“I feel fine,” he says. His skin is paler and dark spots start to appear under his eyes.

Chapter 22

We are walking on the highway.

Since we don’t have any food or water with us, we scavenge abandoned cars to survive. Apart from some nuts and a small bottle of water, we haven’t been fortunate so far.

We debated the idea of walking back to Weldon Springs to find the Centaur. The comfort, speed, and safety of our doomsday truck would make this trip a lot easier. Walking back for two days would be worth it if we found the truck, but this is too much risk to take. There might be elderly Ricas still in town. Even if the town is deserted, the truck may not be there after all. We have decided to continue walking West. There is no going back.

Toshi is using Oxyrica now. It is suppressing the deathly effects of the virus. His skin color looks normal and there is no longer any darkness under his eye. From his appearance, you can’t tell if he has the virus. The pills we took from Harold’s house should be enough to last at least a week.

I hope the antidepressants will continue to keep him as a human. It worked for those elderly. I don’t see why it shouldn’t work for him.

Kathleen and I always keep an eye on him. If he starts showing signs of aggressiveness, we plan to tie his hands with his belt and drag him with us to somewhere we can get help from. I know there’s a remote possibility of finding a healthcare facility to help him. Even when the healthcare system was fully functional five months ago, the doctors couldn’t find any way to cure patients except with the controversial drug Oxyrica, which turned millions of people into ferocious beings.

No matter how he reacts to the virus, I am not going to hurt my best friend in any way. I have already lost Mr. Burke and Valeria’s mom, Yolanda. Just like Toshi, they both did me a favor without expecting anything in return.

I wonder what the Hernandez family is doing now. I hope Miguel, Valeria, and Diego were able to get far away from Saviors. Most of the East Coast is controlled by them but there must be rural locations that are still untouched.

“Do you guys think what I am thinking right now?” Toshi says as he points to the food truck ahead of us.

“Oh, I’m glad that I am not hallucinating!” Kathleen says. We barely had food and water since the church fight yesterday. Our brain acts out intermittently because of hunger and dehydration.

This is one of those trucks I used to see in downtown back in the good days. There was a fountain in a park with food trucks parked around it to serve hungry white-collar workers at lunchtime. Hundreds of people would get out of office buildings to take a break from corporate life. I used to join the crowd with my colleagues on Fridays. Seeing other men in suits and women in dresses always made me feel better by thinking that I am not the only one following the 9 to 5 life.

This time, there are no fancy men or women around. There's only me, Kathleen, and Toshi in dirty t-shirts and jeans. The truck still looks intriguing, though. Those quesadilla and taco pictures on the exterior make my stomach rumble.

Kathleen and I walk to the driver’s side while Toshi goes for the passenger side. Aiming at the driver side window, I place an arrow and stretch the bow. Kathleen is carrying the shotgun even though there are no bullets left. Toshi still has his hammer.

As we get closer to the truck, I hear something hitting the walls of the food cabin. We pause and listen to the sound. It stops. I sign Toshi to proceed.

Once we take a few more steps, we hear the same growling sound again. This time it’s louder. I am now familiar with this frightening noise. It’s a Rica.

If he’s been trapped inside this long, he shouldn’t be able to get out now. We should be safe.

We slowly approach the driver side door by keeping a few feet distance between us and the vehicle. I see a man’s head leaning on the steering wheel. Toshi looks inside through the window on the other side of the truck. There is nobody on the passenger side.

It looks like these fellas decided to escape from the city. The noisy guy in the back probably chose to have the drug to fight against the virus. After he had run out of the drug and become a Rica, his buddy must have decided to lock him up in the back.

I get closer to the window to look through inside. I don’t see food or water. I can’t see the floor, but I don’t want to open the door where this infected guy is resting. We walk around the truck to meet Toshi on the other side. I lower the bow.

“What do you think?” Kathleen asks.

“I think it’s worth checking out what they have in the back,” I say. Following a well-thought plan, three of us should be able to take the Rica down before he even gets close to