Chapter 9
The sun was beginning to dip below the horizon, casting the city into a deepening gloom intensified by the storm looming overhead. The first drops of rain softly tapped against the apartment windows, but it wasn't long before thunder rumbled loudly, accompanied by the steady drumming of rainfall. Adding to this was the occasional chaos from the outside: blood-curdling screams and, at times, gunshots echoing between the buildings. It was a terrifying symphony that kept Nathan's nerves on edge.
Every time a scream pierced the air, he felt an almost uncontrollable urge to rush to the balcony and see who it came from. But what truly tightened his chest was the thought that those screams could belong to Jake. His absence was weighing heavier on Nathan than he cared to admit, and the worry for his friend mixed with the guilt of not being able to stop him.
What if something happened to him? What if he needed my help? Nathan thought, his gaze drifting to the fogged-up window. His stomach churned with an uneasy knot, a discomfort he couldn't shake.
Still, he forced his mind away from those thoughts. He couldn't afford to give in to his anxiety. He knew Jake better than anyone, and if there was anyone who could survive out there, it was him. After all, Jake had also grown up watching zombie movies and spending hours talking about how to survive an apocalypse. He'll make it, Nathan told himself, more as a mantra to calm his nerves than as an absolute truth.
But if he wanted to reunite with him soon—and, more importantly, find his parents—he had to focus. The plans he had in motion couldn't wait.
------------------------------
The rain began to fall harder, pelting the windows with relentless force. Nathan hurried to check each one, ensuring they were securely closed to keep the water out. Once he was certain everything was sealed, he returned to his unfinished task.
He'd finished inventorying all the food earlier. Although it wasn't much, he estimated it could last him several days if he rationed carefully. But it wasn't just about the quantity. He knew he had to be smart about what he consumed and when.
Now, he was focused on cooking all the perishable food in the fridge. He knew the electricity wouldn't last forever, and once it went out, anything fresh would spoil quickly. That meant, for now, he had to use up whatever would go bad while saving the canned and non-perishable food for future emergencies. That stuff will be worth its weight in gold someday, he thought bitterly, flipping a piece of meat in the pan.
The only problem was his stove.
"Stupid electric stove," he muttered, watching as the oil sizzled softly in the pan. If the power failed, he'd lose the ability to cook entirely—a thought that worried him more than he wanted to admit.
As he finished preparing one dish after another, his mind was already jumping to the next task. Once the food was cooked and stored as efficiently as possible, he'd need to organize potential weapons, clothing, and any useful items he might need in an emergency.
The list of things to do seemed endless, and the solitude made it feel even heavier. But Nathan had no other choice. If he wanted to survive and find his parents, every little detail mattered. His hands kept moving, working mechanically, while his thoughts spun around the uncertain future that awaited him.
------------------------------
Several hours had passed since Jake left, and Nathan was close to finishing all the tasks on his list. Yet, his friend's absence still weighed heavily on his mind, like a persistent echo he couldn't shake.
Night had fully fallen over the city. Everything was cloaked in darkness, except for the occasional flashes of lightning that lit up the sky. Nathan approached the balcony, hoping to clear his head, but what he saw only added more tension to his already burdened body.
The street in front of his building was absolute chaos. It was filled with abandoned cars, many of them crashed or engulfed in flames. The weak glow of fires flickered in the distance, casting eerie shadows across the nearby buildings. The pavement was dotted with bodies, though from his position, he couldn't tell whether they were zombies or victims of the carnage.
Nathan rested his hands on the railing, closing his eyes as he let out a deep sigh. His stomach churned with a mix of fear and uncertainty. Getting out of this building is going to be harder than I thought, he reflected as his gaze swept over the devastated landscape once more.
But even with such a grim view, he couldn't afford to lose focus. His plan was clear: move forward slowly, without rushing. He knew that a single misstep could cost him his life, and he couldn't take that risk. With that in mind, he forced himself to turn away and head back inside the apartment.
------------------------------
In the living room, all the potential weapons he had found were laid out on the floor, forming an improvised arsenal. Nathan crouched down and inspected them one more time. There was a slightly worn baseball bat, a broom, a mop, and several kitchen knives—though he had set aside two exclusively for cooking. He had also included his toolbox, which, while not very large, contained a hammer, screwdrivers, and a couple of wrenches that could come in handy in an emergency.
Next to the weapons, his gym bag was nearly packed. He had filled it with sturdy, comfortable clothing, enough for several days. He had also added useful items like duct tape, glue, a small first aid kit, and various medications he had found in the bathroom cabinet. Everything was organized to be easily accessible in case he needed to leave in a hurry.
Nathan grabbed his notebook and firmly crossed off another task from the list. He felt a faint sense of satisfaction at seeing his progress, but there were still critical tasks left to complete.
Three items remained: reinforce the apartment, create makeshift weapons, and design some sort of improvised armor to protect himself from bites or scratches. But those tasks would take time—something that seemed to be slipping away faster with every passing minute.
------------------------------
Exhaustion was beginning to take hold of him. The accumulated stress of the day was finally catching up, tightening his muscles and clouding his mind.
He hadn't had a single moment to fully process everything that was happening. Between Jake's departure, the constant threat of zombies, and the uncertainty about his parents' fate, his thoughts were on the brink of collapse.
He glanced at the list in his notebook, where the three remaining tasks seemed to stand out as if they were written in neon. There's still so much to do, he thought in frustration.
He wanted to let it all out—to scream, to punch something, to do anything that could release the weight pressing down on his chest. But he knew he couldn't afford to give in. His survival depended on his ability to stay focused.
Finally, he stood up, picking up the notebook once again.
"One step at a time," he murmured to himself.
------------------------------
Nathan served himself some food on a plate and dragged a chair to the kitchen, making sure to move as little as possible. He sat down, alone, in the silent apartment, and began to eat. The clinking of his utensils against the plate was the only sound accompanying him, aside from the roar of the storm hammering against the windows.
The apartment, which had once felt like such a cozy refuge, now seemed foreign. The living room was almost unrecognizable: the sofas had been moved and replaced by an organized chaos of items scattered across the floor, all carefully arranged to maximize their usefulness in this new and terrifying world.
Nathan set his fork down and looked around with a mix of disbelief and sadness.
Everything had changed so quickly. Just hours ago, he had been chatting with Jake about unimportant things, laughing at dumb jokes. And now… now he was alone, eating in silence in the middle of a zombie apocalypse.
He let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair.
Yeah, things are a complete mess right now, he thought as he forced another bite of food down.
------------------------------
After finishing his meal, Nathan made sure the water was still running. He turned on the faucet, and when the steady stream continued, he decided to take advantage of it and wash the plate he had used. Once it was clean, he set it on the rack to dry. He couldn't afford to leave anything out of order—every small habit mattered now more than ever.
Without wasting time, he headed to his room and walked straight into the bathroom. The idea of taking a shower crossed his mind, and after such an exhausting day, he decided he needed it. With some hesitation, he turned on the shower and waited a few seconds. When the hot water began to flow, he let out a relieved sigh.
The hot water cascading over his skin relaxed his body and cleared his mind, if only a little. Slowly, he felt the tension in his muscles start to fade, as though the shower was washing away part of the weight he'd been carrying all day.
A hot shower after a day like this is a gift, he thought, closing his eyes for a moment and letting himself savor the brief sense of calm.
When he was done, he stepped out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. He walked over to the bed, where he had left a change of clothes ready, and quickly got dressed. Feeling more comfortable, he made his way back to the apartment's entrance.
------------------------------
Nathan stood silently, looking at the sofas blocking the door. He wanted to make sure everything was in place. The storm outside continued to roar, and each clap of thunder made the windows vibrate slightly, but inside the apartment, everything seemed calm.
He stepped closer to inspect the small gaps between the sofas and the walls. While he knew it was unlikely that anyone—or anything—could get through without moving the furniture and making noise, he decided to be even more cautious. Grabbing a couple of chairs from the kitchen, he placed them strategically in those gaps. If someone moved the sofas, the chairs would fall to the ground and alert him to the danger.
With that extra layer of security, he felt a bit more at ease. He returned to his room, closed the door, and locked it. It was a small gesture, but it gave him some peace of mind. He turned on the lamp on his nightstand for a moment, scanning the room as if to make sure nothing was out of place. Finally, he turned off the light and collapsed onto the bed.
------------------------------
The exhaustion accumulated throughout the day began to hit him almost immediately. His muscles ached, and his mind felt heavy, as though it were struggling to stay awake. At first, he tried to fight it, but the warmth of the bed and the relief of the shower gradually pulled him under.
As his eyes closed, the events of the day swirled through his mind like a whirlwind: Jake's departure, the fight with the zombie, the rain beating against the windows… and the constant fear of what lay ahead. But, for now, all of that felt distant.
I just want a moment of peace, he thought as his consciousness slowly faded.
For the first time all day, there were no screams, no pounding, no impossible decisions to make. Tomorrow, he would pick up where he left off with the plans he'd written in his notebook. Tomorrow, he would face whatever the world had in store for him. But tonight, even if just for a few hours, he needed to rest.
In this new world full of dangers, where the dead roamed the earth and the living were just as unpredictable, Nathan allowed himself a small reprieve. Although he didn't know what awaited him when he woke, he made a promise to himself that he wouldn't give up.
And with that thought, he finally let sleep take him.