Yvonne’s stomach gurgled unhappily. Ever since the outbreak finding food had become a daily battle. Sure, when the looting began food was easy enough to come by. Convince stores and markets were quickly ransacked. Money was pointless. Useless even, not even worth the paper it was printed on; though it did make fairly good kindling in a pinch. Unrestricted by the need for cash to buy goods, people went wild. Many gorged themselves on anything and everything they could get theirs hands on immediately, and for a few days they were fat and happy.
Then the food started to run out. Fresh food went first, meat spoiled almost overnight without electricity to keep the coolers running. Fruits and vegetables were quickly consumed, or else spoiled and used as weaponry against man and zombie alike. Bread, pastry, and all manner of baked items became stale and then molded into green-gray blobs. Frozen food was shortly thereafter only a daydream. Supermarket floors became sticky with a flood of melted ice cream, dribbling from its limp cartons. The wise hoarded canned goods wherever they safely could. High protein items like spam and tinned beans where in particular demand. People began to panic as the shelves rapidly emptied and food became scarce.
Yvonne was in the wise group. She might not know much about how the food normally got to the shelves, but she’d seen enough stupid horror movies to know that it would be a problem. She hoarded all the food she could get her hands on, having developed a special taste for potted meats, and ate only enough to keep her strength up. As a result she was nearly always at least a little bit hungry. But better to weather a few hunger pains that to starve completely. Her number one daily activity was a forging trip into empty apartments and the nearby ransacked shops, searching for overlooked food, water, and really anything that could prove useful. One never knew what could be useful.
She stopped by the apartment offices for a bag. Bags that didn't make noise were very important resources and the apartment managers, Zelda and October, horded them in the office for residents to borrow. The last thing you wanted was to carry a loud-a** crinkly plastic bag out scavenging. It would only alert everything in the ******** area to your location. She’d decided to stay in the building today; there were a couple of empty places up on the 8th floor she’s recently discovered. They’d been previously plundered by other residents, but it never hurt to take a second look. She nabbed a smallish cloth bag from the random assortment, and headed for the stairs. She had a long climb ahead of her, and her calves ached at the thought.
She was panting by the time she reached the eighth floor. Sure, she might be in shape, but a non-stop climb up eight flights of badly-lit stairs was enough to take the wind out of anyone’s sails. And the stairs where no place to linger; who knew what may lurk in the dark landings – undead and alive.
She leaned heavily on the bar of fire door, and it opened onto the eighth floor with a clash. Great, just announce her presence to everyone, why not? She’d heard tin trashcans that made less noise than that door. She sighed and surveyed the hallway. It had the same derelict feel as the rest of the building; a creeping at the edges of normalcy. It may have only been a month since this whole ordeal had started, but the building was aging faster than anyone would believe. It seemed to sag at the corners, like the building itself had given up when most of its residents had fled or been killed, even if the survivors where still hanging on. At least she could feel reasonably safe that any zombie that even made it into the building would have been found out and destroyed long before it reached this floor. No, here the only worry was from the still living.
She wandered cautiously down the hallway, trying doors. It was unlikely that anyone was actually living this far up, people tended to stay on the lower levels with less stairs to climb, but she wasn’t exactly sure where every resident lived and busting into an occupied apartment was a really good way of getting yourself dead. Locked doors were a pretty good sign that someone was home or the apartment was occupied some of the time. Unlocked or broken doors were fair game. She moved to the end of the hallway where there was an unoccupied two-bedroom she’d scoped out last week.
Yvonne was clearly not the first visitor to this former home. The place had been ransacked weeks ago, drawers emptied onto the floor, bedding tossed, and personal effects missing or else thrown around haphazardly. However, the chaos of a several upended lives was covered in a thin layer of dust and grime. She noticed the mark she’d smeared in the dust next to an abandoned cordless phone on the counter was still there and undisturbed. She doubted anyone had been here since her last visit.
The kitchen was her best bet for food, she decided, as she began to quietly open and close cabinets. She was fairly sure she was alone up here, but there was no need to broadcast her search to anyone or anything that might happen by. Gingerly she opened the warm refrigerator, and gagged slightly at the sudden scent of rotten food. The smell was awful, but she could honestly say she’d smelled worse while on the job. Most of it was completely unidentifiable, growing mold in colors she didn’t even know that mold grew in! Everything was shades of green and grey, with some smattering of orange and putrid yellow just to mix things up. She doubted anything in here was anywhere near editable, but in the name of being thorough she closed the fridge and eased open the door to the freezer. It was slightly better, maybe only because there was less food in it to spoil, and what was that?! Hidden behind a stack of inedible (even when they were fresh and frozen!) TV dinners was an unopened bottle of water! Success!
Food was hard to come by, but water was way, way worse. The apartments still had running waters in sinks and showers, but drinking it was not a good idea. Clean bottled water was nearly priceless and more than worth braving the stench of rotten food. Searching the rest of the apartment was a breeze from there, each of the two bedrooms had been tossed. One of them had clearly belonged to a child, judging by the Disney Princess bedspread that now lay on the floor and the collection of sparkly stuffed animals tossed everywhere. She ignored the bathroom; it wasn’t a good idea to go near anywhere that might contain unknown (previously) human body secretions.
In the second, adult, bedroom she turned up with a drab navy flannel shirt and some clean but well-worn jeans that appeared to be a good fit. Hanging on a hook on the back of the closet door was a grey oversized men’s sweatshirt with a hood. October was dragging on and it was getting colder every day, warmer clothes for winter where quickly becoming a priority. She carefully folded all the clothes and stowed them in her bag; they barely fit. She frowned, apparently she’d selected too small a sack. It was just as well, she’d spent too much time here anyway and likely uncovered everything that was of use to her in the apartment anyway. It was time to be getting back to the real world, however bleak that may be.
2. You find an unopened bottle of water.
ZELDA APPROVES Upon your return to Clearview, you will be awarded one cocktail umbrella! Please claim it in this thread using the faction quest point claim form located here.
3. You find some new, drab clothing, perfect for camouflaging against the horde.
ZELDA APPROVES Upon your return to Clearview, you will be awarded one cocktail umbrella! Please claim it in this thread using the faction quest point claim form located here.
Reply
