Desired

2. Wet...day

Large pools of water gather in the road which I can't avoid so I've stopped trying. Waves of rain pummel us. My hood won't stay up against the wind which along with the onslaught of water droplets stings my eyes. A stream of water runs down my neck, seeping through the gap between my skin and the collar of my jacket. I continue to move my legs as I cycle next to Zach, reminding myself we have time until it's completely dark.

We've been lucky so far. We've always found somewhere to sleep.

Every night, we've discovered some form of shelter, whether it be in a derelict city or town or a barren farm. However today, we seem to be in nowhere's land, a flat expanse of nothingness as far as the eye can see. There's no sign of any shelter, only bare earth on one side and a churning violent sea on the other.

Will tonight be the night we don't find a place to sleep?

Our wheels slip and swerve on the muddy ground which is slowly blending in with the night sky that is rapidly descending on us. We've been riding for a while. I'm not sure how much longer I can last. My muscles are fatigued from a lack energy. I haven't eaten since yesterday.

Where are we going? When are we going to stop? These two questions circle in my head, and my questions don't refer to just today but also in the future. We both talk in hope of there being others out there whereas we don't speak about what we'll do if we never find anybody. The prospect of our settlements containing the only remaining people from an entire world seems too frightening and sad to think about, so we're ignoring the possibility for now.

'Over there,' I shout over the loud crashing of heavy raindrops around us. I gesture towards a small box shape in the distance, it's barely visible in the fading light.

Zach nods and both of us speed up. Splashing through thick muddy puddles, I'm hoping there are no bodies inside. If there are, we won't stay, no matter how desperate we are.

The door is locked. It's heartbreaking to think of the people who locked up and left their homes expecting to one day come back. No one did. They never will.

Zach smashes one of the windows and clears off the glass. We stop for a moment to smell the air and have a brief look inside, in an attempt to detect any sign of death. This became our usual routine after we walked into a room containing soft fluid green bodies, the rotten flesh hanging off in places to reveal parts of their skeleton.

Virulence's ability at wiping out nearly every species on the planet has meant, nearly two decades later, bodies are still rotting away slowly.

Smelling the air one last time, I really hope this place is body free. I can't stand the thought of searching through another room of corpses for food. When I was waiting for Zach in the town, I quickly learnt the houses with corpses offer the best chance of finding sustenance.

I won't sleep in houses with corpses however I don't hesitate to take their food.

When Zach finally turned up in the Town, I told him we should avoid contact for a while because I'd been in houses with people who had died of Virulence. I was worried Virulence could still exist. It's not meant to survive without a host for longer than a month but what if that piece of information is wrong or what if Virulence has mutated and can survive longer? I wasn't worried for me. I was worried for Zach.

Zach refused to avoid contact. He refused to think about his safety. We'd argued. The only argument we've ever had ended with Zach licking my face and telling me he'd never agree to no contact. He's infuriating. He's reckless. Both these characteristics only make me love him more.

The dim cabin is small; one room containing a few items of furniture and no bodies. This place doesn't look like it housed people, not for the purpose of sleep anyway.