“If I could have talked, I would’ve told you to leave me alone.” He raised his eyes to me and I could clearly see sparks of stubborn determination within them.
“You know what? A little more appreciation would be nice. Do you have any idea what I had to go through to get you here?” I snapped.
“Exactly! I don’t want you to do anything like that ever again!” Victor raised his voice, mimicking my tone.
“Are you suggesting that I should have let you die rather than hurt your fragile sense of manliness?”
“Damn it, Frid.” He stroked his hair.
“I think I can safely say that I very much prefer you to be unconscious.” I threw the blanket off me and reached for my suit.
Victor, who clearly wanted to continue our less than pleasant exchange, appeared a little distracted, like he was not prepared to see me without my suit on. I rolled my eyes and sat crossed legged, unplaiting my braids and combining my hair with my fingers. After splashing around in the pool last night, my hair was still wet when I fell asleep. Then this morning, on top of the annoyance I felt even looking at Victor, I also had the privilege of inhaling the scent of mildew that came from my damp hair.
Fuming inside, I glanced at Victor who still gazed at me. The last time we spoke, it almost sounded like he had feelings for me. But he was delirious with pain, he probably had no idea what he was saying. There was no way he considered me attractive. I knew the type of women he usually dated. They all wore loud, revealing dresses and rouged their lips. I never used any pigments on my skin, or wore dresses. And to be completely honest, even if I wore a dress like that, I didn’t have enough flesh in the right places.
When my hair was secured, I pulled on my suit and fished out my boots from under the door.
“Where are you going?” Victor cleared his throat.
“I’m going to explore the building and look for some food.”
“Didn’t you bring supplies with you?” he asked and I was ready to throw something at him.
“Of course I did.” I chewed on my lip, trying to hide my exasperated sigh. “But while dragging your unconscious ass through the tunnels and fighting crawlers, I happened to lose it.”
He remained quiet for a moment, scrutinizing me.
“You realize that this place has been combed through many times before,” he continued.
“I’ll take my chances.” I turned away to button up my suit.
“Frid?” he called when I turned to the door.
I did not respond, removing the boxes away from the exit.
“Frid?” Victor called again.
“What?” I turned around.
“Please be careful,” he suddenly said.
Instead of answering, I pushed the door open.
The sun freely reached into the large room as I softly closed the closet door behind me. The abundance of broken furniture was an obvious sign that before the outbreak, this place was used as storage for the building. I moved to the door of the second room and opened it. I went through every inch of the space with extreme care. Saving the most dangerous for last, I opened the door leading to the corridor that was actually a set of stairs. It was much darker down there. I took out my sword and cautiously stepped onto the stairs. Brittle, crumpled paper crinkled under the sole of my shoe and I paused. Nothing seemed too suspicious and I moved further down, keeping alert. Dark stains colored the walls, reminding me that we were in the wastelands, and anything could happen here. I paused about halfway down, giving myself enough time to listen for any misplaced sounds within the building. Then I noticed the outline of a door, and hurried to it. Still clenching my sword, I laid my ear against the panel. Everything seemed quiet. Then I placed my left hand on the door handle and slowly pulled.
Staying inside the doorway, I turned my head, looking around, before slowly moving through the space. The sets of rooms on this level had no doors and were completely destroyed. They were filled with shattered furniture and statues, fluffy white stuff, papers, and textiles of all kinds. But in one chamber, only the torn shreds of dusty fabric littered the floor, leaving the windows partially exposed. Someone tore the curtains, but the glass in the windows was completely intact.
Despite all my frustration with Victor, one thing he was absolutely right about; this place had been visited by dragonborns throughout the years, and anything that could still be good to eat, would be long gone. But that was not the worst thing. As much as we needed food, water was even more important. Without those two things, dragon blood or not, wewould not be able to travel back to Darragh. For some reason, I doubted that we should use sacred water to quench our thirst, but if none could be found, that would be our only option.
I descended another set of stairs and entered through a door that was barely attached to the hinges. This set of rooms looked like it used to be someone’s apartment. The art was still hanging on the walls in the hall, over a simple wooden chair and a side table. My heart sank with a heavy premonition as I stepped onto the dusty gray carpet.
Feeling bad about the people who lived in the building was not going to help anyone. I reminded myself about our current situation and moved along.
Despite everything I told myself, my gaze kept returning to the pieces of clothing and the plates that still sat on the kitchen counter. The apartment appeared neat and well organized, even after having been looted before. There were clear signs of a female presence. Vases on the tables, small figurines, framed drawings. I paused by a miniature watercolor of a crooked willow tree that was leaning over a river bank. Then my eyes landed on a wedding portrait on the wall. It was a painting of a couple in their early thirties, beside the woman stood a boy of about five. The woman had a pleasant, heart shaped face, and her husband was a gentle looking man with soft and kind, smiling eyes. I sighed, hoping that whoever they were, they managed to safely escape the building.
Slowly, I moved along the hall. It was unsettling how the lives of every person changed after the outbreak, but surviving it as a human was nearly impossible. It was the first time I ever really thought about the humans who were left behind in so many cities.
Did the council help them escape? Did they send troops to evacuate the civilians? Did they even try to save any of them? I seriously doubted it.
