Before coming closer, I park the car in a nearby alley.
I will keep this car here with some supplies, just in case.
I hide one of the guns with half the bullets and my bat in the car. I'll just keep my gun and a knife.
I take some food and water.
If people see it like that, they'll want to steal it.
So I siphon every drop of fuel and leave the fuel cap open, with a little pond of oil on the ground.
I put the fuel tank into a trash can nearby and leave the car behind, thinking about Lana teaching me how to drive.
I walk towards this camp with a heavy heart, but a little excited to meet people.
I can see some people walking, talking.
Some even saw me—from afar I must just look like one more of those things.
I stop before the gate, hands in the air.
-"Hi... My name is Alex. I am alone. Can you please open the gate so I can join you?"
I hear people talking in the back, but I can't understand what is being said.
A man in his mid-40s, with some grey in his beard, comes forward to the gate.
Face to face, he starts to talk, his hand ready to pull out his gun.
"Do you have weapons?"
I slowly lift my t-shirt to show my gun.
-"That's all I have."
"You have some ammo?"
-"Not much."
"That's not a number."
He smiles at me in a mocking manner.
Annoying.
-"10."
"I see.
Give me your gun and you can come in. When you're in the camp, only the guards are armed."
We stare at each other for almost a minute.
I don't want to give it to him. But Lana wanted me to join people.
-"Okay."
I reach my hand toward the gun to give it to him.
"Wait, don't take it out. Give the holster."
He's not an idiot.
We walk slowly toward the gate, getting closer and closer, and I reluctantly hand it over.
He finally relaxes and smiles.
"Thank you for your cooperation.
Open the gate! Let him in."
The gate creaks and slowly opens until a man can enter.
I can hear the door closing just behind me.
Wherever I look, I see people staring at me, most likely talking about the new guy.
I smile softly toward the people in the playground, trying to look amicable.
"Follow me, I'll show you around."
-"What's your name?"
"Lucas."
-"This place... it's been here since the outbreak?"
"Yeah. When everything went south, parents gathered here to fetch their kids and finally stayed, thanks to the safety of the place.
Then people living close to here came, seeing the cars and the people. Just like you."
"Outside is where people keep their cars. Some even choose to sleep in them, but you don't have to.
There is room inside."
-"Good. Can I have a place alone?"
"...
Well, if you want, there are some desks in the administrative wing left empty. That's also where I live—at the desk of the school director."
-"So we'll be neighbours?"
"Come, I'll show you your room so you can put your stuff down."
-"Ok."
After putting down my stuff in my room, Lucas showed me around. There are a lot of children.
Most of them are playing, running in the hallways, playing hide & seek.
I am shocked to see them—they are like children of the old world.
Walking in the hallway, I see a kid crying in a corner all alone.
Lucas silently watches me as we continue walking.
"Not every parent is here."
-"That's to be expected."
"Sadly, yes.
We eat twice a day in the school cafeteria—at 11 & 18."
-"Good to know."
"Every adult here helps out the group. Do you have some skill that could be of use to us?"
-"Not really. I worked with computers.
But if I may, I want to go outside. To gather supplies."
"Hmmm... Well, you'll need to ask the leader of the expedition when he comes back."
-"When will that be?"
"Tomorrow. For now, just settle down."
---
Day 31
I woke up at 6 like a clock.
I open the window.
The sky is grey, full of clouds, with the moon still in view.
I start my day like always: meditating, thinking.
I breathe slowly.
I try to stay steady, but images—memories of Lana, smiling, talking, dying—pop up in my mind.
No!
I divert my attention by thinking about the current situation.
There are about 200 people, I'd say, but almost half are just children—a burden for us. This place is really loud.
How are they still alive?
The population density permitted it, maybe.
But it won't last. When the zombies migrate here, they'll come to this school, pound the fences, break through them. It could get ugly.
We'll need better defences.
More barricades. Maybe spike traps.
---
My thoughts keep coming until someone knocks on my door.
"You up?"
It's Lucas's voice.
I stand up and answer him.
-"Yeah. What do you want?"
He playfully answers, "I wanted to check in on the new neighbour."
I open the door and let him in.
Smiling, he continues, "Welcome to the neighbourhood."
-"Why so joyful so early on?"
"Well, I am alive, no one died during the night, no breaches in our fences.
Why shouldn't I be happy?"
-"..."
We both head out, joining up with other people.
Lucas introduces me to some of his friends, and we sit around a fire and talk.
A blond guy leans forward. "So you live here, Alex?"
-"No. I come from further east, in Mendeley."
"Oh, that's a pretty big city. How did you make it out of there?"
-"Well, I waited for the road to clear a little and drove my way through it."
"Ha ha, you crazy guy!"
Lucas asks me, "You were alone since the outbreak?"
-"...Yeah."
-"You're the first people I've met. Well—the first people alive."
"Ha ha!"
Liar. I am a liar. Why did I even lie? They seem like good people.
But I want our story—mine and Lana's—to be only mine.
It's strange. Stories don't belong to anyone.
And the guy I killed—I met him too. But I don't want to be thrown out of here.
-"What about you, Lucas? What's your story?"
"Well, I worked here—as the janitor."
-"Wow. You climbed the corporate ladder real quick."
"Ha ha, yes, you could say that.
But truth is, the teachers, the other staff—they were lost, going mad, not believing in zombies until they were eaten.
I was pretty much the only adult with a clear mind.
Well, not clear clear, but clearer than the others, you know."
One of the men, looking middle-aged—well, in his 40s—cried out.
"How could they have a clear mind when children were dying left and right, eating each other?"
Everyone went silent.
Then a woman came and picked him up.
I can hear him sobbing.
I look at Lucas, still smiling softly, and he explains to me:
"It's Josh. You saw that not every child has their parent—well, it's also true the other way around. He had a daughter. She was 10. She didn't survive."
The air feels heavy.
Lucas gets up and leaves. Before leaving, I take a good look at him. His face is smiling—but his eyes...
He must bear scars I can't imagine.