7
The world doesn’t stop for anyone. It keeps spinning on its axis, the days turning into nights until it becomes one endless routine. Even if destruction is happening all around, the world is still there.
When civilization falls, the ones who dominated are now at the mercy of the elements, of fate. Once the highest tier was gone, nature took control again. The flora regained its rightful place, spreading out, taking over the land that was once populated with human life.
Maya wiped the sweat from her forehead. The sun was especially hot for an October day. She thought about how far she’d come, how much the world she once knew had changed, deteriorated.
She’d been here for a few months already and was acclimating well to being alone—well, as much as one could be used to that. The isolation, silence, and loneliness still ate away at her at times, even if she had Sherman to keep her company.
She held onto her basket tighter, the little woven one that held the herbs she just picked. Her basil was thriving, and although it was still on the warmer side, the weather ideal, she kept everything in her greenhouse once fall started.
Maya headed back to the main house, the two-story farmhouse that sat on three acres of wooded land. It was high in the mountains, away from civilization, from the small town below. She rarely ventured out anymore, relying on what she could grow, what she could get from the land, and the food she found stocked in the cellar.
Firewood was abundant to help keep her warm during the cold nights, and the well gave her fresh water. After the last few months of being alone, of relying on herself and seeing how she could survive, Maya felt confident in the way she lived.
She walked toward the house, a soft wind blowing. Leaves had already started falling, and the scent of autumn was thick in the air. She hadn’t seen a human in far longer than she could even remember, hadn’t seen an infected in longer than that. But that was good, because both the healthy and the infected could be dangerous to her.
Being this high up in the mountains, away from anything remotely reminding her of the world she once lived in, could have a person thinking the world wasn’t completely gone. She stayed up here, hoping, praying a cure would come for the infected. At least she was trying to stay positive, even if in her heart she knew the end was probably not going to have a happy outcome.
But depressing topics, ones that reminded her she was utterly alone in every sense of the word, and having no other human contact, having no one to speak with, hold, made Maya’s thoughts go to things like her family being gone, and that she could die at any moment.
She continued to make her way toward the house, the wind picking up again and the sun shining down. This high up, the air was cooler, and with fall already here and winter fast approaching, she was trying to make sure she was stocked up enough to survive the cold.
It would be a damn shame to have gone through all of that, lost everything, but make it here safely, only to die because she’d frozen or starved to death.
Maya pushed her hair off her shoulder, glanced around the property, and as she trailed her eyes back toward the house, something had her stopping midstride. Her heart starting pounding in her chest as she tried to make out what the dark form was on the ground.
It wasn’t moving, and she couldn’t tell if it was an infected or a healthy human trying to sneak up on the house, trying to be stealthy.
But as the seconds ticked by and there was still no movement, she started to realize it couldn’t be an infected. They would have been able to smell her, would have made noise because their frantic need to feed would have taken over.
Setting the basket on the ground slowly, she kept her eyes on the form but then started scanning the surrounding area, making sure no one was hiding in the woods. Everything seemed so still, so silent.
Grabbing the strap of her father’s shotgun she always had hanging over her back, she started moving toward the person, trying to keep close to the structure. She also had a knife strapped to her ankle and another to her thigh. She couldn’t be too careful.
The closer she got, the more the adrenaline pumped through her veins, giving her a boost of energy, making her ready to run or attack. She was close enough now she could see it wasn’t an infected on the ground, or at least it wasn’t one who had the signs of rotting.
But she was still cautious, still had her gun at the ready. Creeping closer, she heard Sherman inside barking. He probably sensed something was wrong, but Maya was glad she left him inside. She didn’t want anything happening to him. He was all she had left now.