No End In Sight

Chapter 1

On the lonely streets, only two people could be seen. By the looks of them, they were teenagers, in their late teens, and one of them might've been in their early twenties, but there wasn't anyway to be sure. They were different from each other in everyway, by looks, by personalities, by likes, dislikes, habits, everything. Just bound by a terrible, terrible fate.

They wouldn't have been paired together to go scouting, but Rosie had commanded so, and nobody disobeyed her. Normally, judging by the late sun in the sky, they would've been at school now, or maybe heading home, or heading to tution, or anywhere; not here, looking for food, eyes peeled for any hostile creature, ears pricked to catch the slightest sound, weapons in hand to defend themselves.

The world wasn't normal anymore, though, was it? Nothing was.

Simon's head jerked at the direction of a sudden sound, arrow flying off his crossbow before even a word was spoken. The arrow hit its mark: one of those balloons issued by the government, with a smiley face and some positive quote printed on it. It gave a loud pop and fluttered to the ground.

"Jeez," Vincent remarked, looking at the now deflated balloon, his expression almost bored, quite in contrary to his partner. He walked ahead, one hand at the back of his head, the other gripping a gun at his waist. "Cmon. Pick that up. We haven't got time to waste, we should be gone before the sun sets."

The streets were deserted. The store they were walking towards had no people; the glasses were broken and the sunlight filtering in gave it an otherworldly look. Vincent got in through one of the broken window panes, not bothering for the door. He heard Simon behind him, and the swinging of the door, the soft chime of a bell as the door swung close softly.

The place was still ransacked, but it still had food on the shelves, and from the smell the place gave off, it wouldn't be any use to them; it was spoiled. That was fine. They were there for medical supplies, anyways. He felt his heart sink at the thought that this place would soon be gone- too low of a population for anyone to bother sending resource anymore. Best they could hope would be that their water and electricity wouldn't go off.

"Vince," he looked up as he heard his name being called; the top of Simon's head was visible over at the rack at the very end of the room. He held up a first aid kit and a pack of bandaids. "Got them."

"Oh? Oh, great," he walked over to Simon. He then set his bag on the ground, stuffing the packets of bandages inside, trying to shove other stuff and make way for more. He didn't want to make this trip again.

Simon had been tapping his foot impatiently, and just as Vince was about to ask him to stop, he spoke up. "This place smells weird. And it feels hot. Hotter than it should."

"No shit-" he'd started, but a choking smell stuffed itself up his nostrils, and he started coughing. Oh, God. The unmistakable smell of charred flesh, charred human flesh- like it was home all over again-

"Where?" he said. Simon was ahead of him. He was peeking out the backdoor. "There's a pile of bodies- they're on fire. There's someone else, too. They're just standing and uh-" he looked back at his partner. "Do you want to go see what's happening?"

Vincent was already fixing the straps on his backpack. He nodded. "Let's go."

The hot wind blasted in their face as they opened the door into the parking lot, the strong wind in the sky fanning the flames further. For a couple of moments, they didn't move, only staring at the scene in front of them dumbfounded. Vincent felt sick. Downright sick. Bodies piled on top of one another, a huge, crackling fire eating away at them, and the smoke that choked his very being and pricked his eyes- he looked at Simon beside him, who didn't seem too comfortable, either. His face was twisted into an unreadable expression, his jaw set.