Abandoned neighborhoods

Dora Lin retrieved a small piece of paper to figure out which neighborhoods encircled the city square.

There were three nearby, and just as she was debating which one to check first, Alex White pointed and said, "That way."

When it came to knowing the city, Alex White trusted his instincts more, despite it being a new environment for him.

The threat of zombies had only lessened in recent years. Dora had never ventured this deep into the city before; she had always stuck to the outskirts, searching for anything of use or something to eat. But as time passed, it became harder to find anything in the outer regions.

Leaving behind the statue fountain, they approached a community with its gate wide open. Inside, shriveled zombies wandered aimlessly. Once, this had clearly been an upscale community, but now it was overrun with wild grasses, ivy covering much of the walls, and trees growing unchecked, giving it the look of a primal jungle.

"Upscale communities do have better greenery," Alex White remarked as he glanced up. It wasn't the best season for exploring, and there was no telling what might be hiding in the rampant vegetation—snakes, perhaps, or worse.

"Look, there's a little plant sprouting from that zombie's head," Alex White pointed out, noting the odd sight.

The zombie swayed unsteadily, gripping the retractable gate at the entrance, as if trying to do something but failing.

Dora cast it a couple of indifferent glances.

"Let's move on," she said.

"I doubt we'll find anything worth scavenging here," Alex White muttered, a deep-seated fear stirring within him—a fear born from witnessing the collapse of what once was civilization.

If it had been a barren and desolate ruin, it might have been less unsettling. But as they ventured closer to the city center, the scene increasingly resembled a botanical garden. Springtime had sent plants into a frenzy, covering the towering buildings in green. And recent rains had only added to the lush, thriving landscape. This vitality, sprouting from the ruins of a once-thriving metropolis, filled Alex White—someone from a time of civilization—with an inexplicable unease.

The wild, vigorous life that thrived among the ruins seemed to underline the absence of humanity.

"When the city was still crowded with people, it was extremely dangerous. You could only linger on the outskirts. Now, even the zombies in the city center aren't that dangerous anymore, but there are hardly any people left. About ten years ago, this place was a no-go zone—almost no one dared to come here."

Dora Lin, having never known the pre-disaster world, felt little emotional connection to the desolate scene before her. Her steps slowed significantly; the dense foliage was a potential hiding place for dangers.

"Building 13, Apartment 904…"

She looked up, noting the difficulty the climbing vines caused in identifying the buildings.

"This is Building 3," Alex White said, his attention fixed on a zombie with a tuft of grass growing from its head. It seemed to be one of the less intelligent zombies, clinging to the doorway and not advancing, the vibrant green grass swaying gently in the breeze.

The once-sturdy ground was now marred by numerous cracks, revealing dark, gnarled tree roots.

The ground was strewn with decayed corpses; some zombies had succumbed to the ravages of time and could no longer rise.

Dora Lin crouched to examine a patch of withered feces. Alex White had hoped she might identify the animal responsible by tasting it, but Dora Lin only glanced at it briefly before standing up, leaving Alex White a bit disheartened.

"Be careful," Dora Lin said, her tone tinged with heightened caution as she listened intently for any sounds and moved forward slowly.

As they counted the buildings, Alex White eventually found Building 13. The electronic door to the apartment building was not locked, though he wasn't sure how he'd handle it if it were.

Dora Lin, with her gun at the ready, scanned the area carefully. Hallways like these often became shelters for animals. Pets, once cherished, had turned into dangerous predators in the aftermath of the disaster. She didn't want to be taken out before they had even begun scavenging.

"It's safe; let's proceed slowly," she advised.

The elevator had long been out of service, so they took the stairs, making their way up slowly.

The walls were marred by brown stains.

The ninth floor was not very high. Some zombies might be trapped in their apartments, and as Alex White climbed the stairs, he heard faint noises. Lost in thought, he pondered whether being confined in an apartment for years might be a fate worse than death.

Ruins were merely ruins, having lost their former threat. When Dora Lin finally forced open the apartment door, a musty odor greeted them. It wasn't particularly offensive, just stale, a sign of a long absence of human presence.

The apartment was a three-bedroom, two-living-room unit. Dust covered the living room, which was in disarray, with couch cushions scattered on the floor and clothes strewn about.

Alex White surveyed the house, which was neither large nor small. After a brief inspection, he made his way to the kitchen.

The refrigerator in the kitchen had long ceased to function. Inside, it only held a thin layer of residue where food had once been stored. Over time, without power, the contents had decayed and been broken down by microorganisms, leaving behind only these remnants.

There were a few milk cartons in the refrigerator, but they were all empty.

Closing the refrigerator door, Alex White noticed some jars and bottles on the counter, all containing spices. Upon opening them, he found that they had clumped together. Rubbing them with his hand made it clear that they were no longer usable.

He also found a half-filled container of peanut oil, which was extremely cloudy. This was Alex White's first encounter with expired oil. He shook it and then opened the cabinet, where he discovered some unopened packets of MSG and salt. They looked relatively normal, but he wasn't sure if salt from twenty years ago would still be safe to consume.

Dora Lin was likely more familiar with such matters.

Dora Lin quickly scanned each room before sitting down on the sofa to rest, seemingly indifferent to the dust accumulating on it.

Unable to remain idle, Alex White left the kitchen and went to the bathroom. He inspected the mirror, pressed the toilet twice, and, of course, discovered that the water system had long since ceased to function. The shelves held shampoo and body wash, both of which had clumped together.

However, the toothbrush in the mouthwash cup was in better condition than his own, which had been nearly worn down by Dora Lin. Alex White was momentarily pleased, but as he rubbed it, a number of bristles fell out.

The passage of time had indeed taken its toll.

With a sigh, Alex White left the bathroom and entered the bedroom. The master bedroom was relatively tidy, with the quilt neatly folded at the head of the bed. A photo of a young couple hung on the wall, giving the impression that the owners had merely stepped out temporarily.

Just then, Dora Lin called out to him from the living room. He responded and went to her.

"Rope," Dora Lin said.

Alex White then realized he had been carrying the bundle of rope on his back all along without putting it down.

On higher floors, only a few units had security bars installed.

Dora Lin had already opened the balcony window and, as she expected, could easily climb over to the neighboring apartment. She tossed two cups into the next apartment, the clattering sounds echoing loudly. After pausing to listen for any response and hearing none, she secured the rope around her waist and prepared to scale the edge.

"Be careful!" Alex White warned, his anxiety palpable. The ninth floor was dangerously high, and a fall would be fatal.

"Hold onto the rope!" Dora Lin instructed.

With practiced ease, she climbed over to the neighboring balcony, entered the apartment, and untied the rope. After a moment, she announced, "You can come in through the door now."

Alex White stepped outside and found that the neighbor's door was indeed open from the inside.

He was struck by a strange sensation, as though he were a thief.

Inside, Dora Lin was already exploring. The apartment was covered in a thick layer of dust, yet it seemed somewhat better maintained than the previous one, and there was a treadmill in the living room.

"This floor, and the ones below, are all ours," Dora Lin said.