Chapter 4 – Of clues and loved ones

The ride to Sarah's neighborhood was nothing short of a nightmare. Abandoned cars were everywhere, some with doors flung open, some with infected inside of them, and others with dark stains Eric didn't want to think about too closely. The same eerie silence that had gripped his own street now stretched across these suburban roads, broken only by the occasional gunfire or moans and groans of those who were infected.

As he turned onto Sarah's street, Eric's heart began to race. The scene was disturbingly familiar—too similar to what he'd witnessed back home. Here and there he could see a car left opened, but most of them were neatly left just as they were in a normal day to day, well day. Trash cans lay overturned, and a few lawn ornaments were knocked, but other than the occasional infected roaming the street, this place looked somewhat normal. Then again, so did Eric's Street earlier today, until all hell let loose.

Eric slowed his motorcycle, looking around carefully, fearing that something or someone might jump on him. However, there was barely any movement to be seen.

Gripping the bat tighter with one hand while steering with the other, he approached Sarah's house. Everything looked intact from the outside. The Cooper's house looked exactly as he remembered it, with its blue shutters and well-maintained lawn. But something felt wrong. Terribly wrong.

As he pulled up directly in front of the house, Eric killed the engine and in a moment of fear he called out.

"Sarah?"

Almost as soon as the word left his lips, Eric slapped a hand over his mouth as he realized how loud his voice had sounded in the deathly quiet street. That made him curse under his breath, berating himself for being so reckless. What if something—or someone—had heard him? His eyes darted around the street, looking for any sudden movement. The infected he'd spotted earlier continued doing whatever they were doing, and thankfully none heard his dumb reaction.

Once he was sure no one was coming towards him, Eric exhaled shakily, swung his leg over the motorcycle, and quietly dismounted. For a second Eric thought of leaving the pistol behind, but after thinking about it for a second he decided to keep it on him just in case. With both weapons on him, Eric felt that if there was something inside that was threatening Sarah and her family, he was armed enough to deal with it, and so, when he reached the door, he noticed it was locked, just as it would be on a normal day.Which was a good sign, at least until he gets inside…

Taking a deep breath, he tried the spare key hidden in the flowerpot on the porch. To his relief, it was still there. He unlocked the door and stepped inside, closing it softly behind him.

The familiar scent of the Cooper household hit him—faint lavender from Sarah's mother's favorite air freshener—but something else lingered in the air. Something faintly metallic and foul. The living room was tidy, just as he'd expected from Elen, who was particular about keeping things in order. But the fact that there was no sound other than his breath was wrong. Too wrong. Usually, Elen would come to the door, the second she heard someone knocking or entering, but here he was, without the scary nurse "welcoming" him.

Because of that, Eric choose to be careful and check the kitchen first. As soon as he walk in the kitchen, he made his way towards a cabinet he knew Sarah used to hide her sweets and his stomach clenched when he opened it and found it empty. He checked another. Then another. Every cabinet was bare, save for a couple of stray canned goods that had rolled into the corners. Could have someone came and robbed them? Slim chances, it was too systematic and well clean to be a thief. No, this was intentional.

Because of that, he sprinted towards Sarah's room, already fearing the worst might have happened. "Sarah?" he called out again, quieter this time. And just like he feared, there was no answer, but as soon as he reached her room, Eric pushed open the door, and what he saw confirmed his fears. Her bed was unmade, way too many clothes were scattered across the room and on the bed, a half-packed duffel bag on the floor, drawers half-opened, and the photograph of them sitting under a tree, missing from the frame on her nightstand. He checked the bag, but it was empty. It didn't took more than a few seconds for Eric to realize that Sarah was gone, possibly for good with all the shit going on and so Eric sank to his knees, fighting with all of his strength the tears that were threatening to fall.

That's when he spotted a piece of paper half-hidden under the bed. Without wasting any second, he reached for it, pulling it out with trembling hands. The edges were crumpled, and Sarah's familiar handwriting covered the page.

Eric,

I don't know if you'll ever find this. I hope you're okay. We had to leave. Mom's colleagues at the hospital have a place for us at the CDC in Atlanta. She says it's safe there. I didn't want to go, but Dad said we had no choice, not when the army is preparing to act, whatever that might mean. I'll wait for you there as long as I can. Please come find me.

I love you.

- Sarah

Eric's chest tightened as he read her words, but at least he now knew what he had to do. Sarah was alive. Or at least she had been when she wrote this. Atlanta. That was where he had to go.

Standing up, Eric folded the note carefully and slipped it into his jacket pocket. It wouldn't be easy reaching the city, that much even he knew, especially with God knows how many of these things were on the streets now. Worse, with how many thousands, or better said tens of thousands in the city. But first, he needed supplies. Atlanta was a long way from here, and he wasn't sure what he'd encounter on the road. Food and water were his first priority, as well as some better weapons to defend himself. Maybe even some sort of better protection against the infected, just in the worst case, they managed to reach him.

Thankfully for Eric, his bored self tinkered long enough over the years to learn how to use his tools and his imagination to make things, or better said "upgrade" things which would definitely be put to good use in his journey towards the big city.

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