The hunched figure was washed in amber pigment from the warm glow of a candle. Light flickered off the metal object that lay on top of the table. Books were strewn about in various sizes of stacks as the figure sat reading a novel.
In that silence there was a brief clanging noise in the direction of a hallway; then followed the distinct sound of a moan. The man turned his head quickly, knowing what would happen next if he continued to sit idle, he blew out the candle and grabbed the metallic mechanism and stashed it in his pants cargo pocket.
Dashing for the hallway he searched for a blunt object. His best choice was a massive leather bound book the size of a dictionary. He waited beyond the corner as the moaning from the hallway became louder and louder. Soon he could hear feet shuffling on the wooden floor.
A dark shadow appears and the man swings with all his strength. Bone crunched as the book connected with the things face. The impact staggered the creature a couple steps backwards, giving enough time to strike its leg and cause the inhuman creature to fall. He knew it was a zombie because it didnt once cry out in pain throughout the conflict.
Now that he knew it was a threat he pushed a nearby bookcase on top of it so he could make for his escape. Quietly and quickly as possible he made his way for one of the windows that would take him to a fire escape and there to the roof. At that point hed devise a plan to safely get to his safehouse.
Chimneys whizzed past as he jumped from rooftop to rooftop. Pausing t o catch his breath he glanced around. Satisfied he hadnt been seen, luckily, he continued crossing the buildings until he could reach no further.
Homemade barbed wire lined the roof of the house he turned into a fortress. Jumping and climbing on air conditioners, ladders and dumpsters he found himself in the alleyway, instinctively pulling out the gun he had in his pants pockets.
He just needed to walk a couple meters and hed be inside. Rain drops pelted his jacket, encouraging him to take shelter within the makeshift fortress. The wooden reinforced door clicked as he inserted the key and turned it counter-clockwise
Darkness was all that greeted him from inside. But he knew that wasnt the only thing. The other was a homemade trap consisting of string and shotgun. With experience he easily bypassed his trap after having closed the only entrance to his apartment building.
In his living room he sat with his legs propped up on the coffee table. Once again the gun was within arms length.
This was his ritual every night. Sitting in front of the television with a movie playing off the dvd player and drinking booze until he fell asleep.
There were plenty of reasons for why he drank. One is the attempt to forget about the moans of the undead. Another was the fact that he hadnt seen a living person in several days; something he never thought possible living in this man built city.
One thing that pained him the most was the memories of his lost wife. He cringed at the thought of what might have happened to his sweet wife Cecila. In the morning hed begin his other ritual; the search of any kind of clue as to the where about of his life partner.