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While the businesses were dark, apartment lights glowed across the city. Everyone was home, everyone who was left.

I chose an older brick apartment building. There weren’t many like it still standing in that part of the city, and the metal fire escape pulled slightly away from the building as I climbed. It let me check the various apartments without entering, and the alley concealed my progress.

The first few apartments I passed reeked of sickness and death—not a promising start. The next one had a family inside. Not exactly the evening I wanted. I preferred something quiet and uncomplicated. On the fourth floor, the lights were out, but someone was home. Only one heartbeat sounded inside, and I decided this was the one. I eased the window open and ducked inside.

My boots brushed against debris that littered the floor of the small main room. Take-out containers adorned most horizontal surfaces, and the kitchen looked like it hadn’t been cleaned for a while. Brown cardboard delivery boxes were stacked behind the sofa, and a discarded pile of white surgical masks overflowed a small wastebasket by the front door. But the air smelled of cooped-up human, take-out food, sweat, and unwashed clothes, not sickness.

I went to the only other door in the small apartment. As I approached, the heartbeat grew louder. I pushed the door open and looked inside. Light from a nearby streetlamp flooded the room through a window along one wall, letting me see as clearly as a human in daylight. A woman lay asleep on a narrow bed. Although the room was a mess, my sole focus was the slender figure. I would drink deeply, I decided as I looked at her and felt my hunger rise. I would be careful not to take so much as to kill the poor woman, but I didn’t know when I’d get another chance at a fresh meal. I assured myself I could do this. I could still feed myself under these extreme circumstances and maintain control.

I took a deep breath and moved closer to her, studying her features. She was young—under forty—with short, wavy brown hair and a pretty face. She appeared healthy, and her breathing was slow and even as she slept. My eyes wandered down to the vein in her neck, pulsing just beneath her skin with each strong beat.

It had been ten days since I’d eaten, and the thought of the blood in her warm body drove me forward faster than I’d intended. In an eyeblink, I was at her throat. I clamped one hand over her mouth as I sank my teeth deep, piercing her vein. But as quickly as I’d attacked, I flung myself backward, releasing my prey. I gripped the bed sheets to steady myself and spat, letting the tainted blood stream from my mouth.

The woman, now wide awake, was half-sitting up, clutching her injured neck with one hand. Too scared to scream, she stared at me with wide eyes, her mouth agape. I wiped the blood from my lips and chin with the sleeve of my dark wool coat.

“Is everyone in the city infected?” I asked, my voice thick with disgust. I knew it wasn’t her fault, but I was too frustrated and hungry to be polite.

Seconds passed, and realization washed over the woman’s face. She shook her head and began to moan. “No, no, no. I’m not sick. I’m not sick,” she whimpered, rocking back and forth, still clutching her neck. She let out a sob, then another, not looking at me, lost in the revelation of her condition.

The thought of being infected was more disturbing to her than the sight of the blood-smeared vampire perched at the foot of her bed.

I sighed and pushed myself to my feet. Turning my back on the woman, I walked out the way I’d come, leaving her alone with her despair.

Back out in the cold. I took out my cell phone and dialed Nathaniel as I walked. I needed to hear my friend’s voice; I needed to feel connected. I waited anxiously for the call to go through, but all I got was an error message: network busy. Everything was going wrong. I put the phone back in my pocket, unsure of what to do next. I didn’t want to go back home. There was little for me there, but I didn’t know where else to go.

I let my feet take me wherever they wished. I wandered for an hour, burdened by indecision and frustration. Hunger pushed me onward, refusing to let me go home just yet, where I would be trapped with myself again. My pace slowed as I reached a familiar stretch of pavement. I looked up at the doorway I’d visited not long before. Without thinking, I had returned to the place of my last successful feed, the apartment building of the beautiful young woman from Patrick’s.

Before I could second-guess myself, I bounded up the steps and pressed the button for her unit. I waited, desperately hoping she would answer.

I wasn’t sure what I craved more: the blood or the companionship.

It was rather pathetic that this brief encounter with a stranger was the closest thing I had left to a friendship in the city. I pushed down such thoughts as the seconds ticked by. I was about to turn and walk back down the steps when the intercom crackled to life, and the woman’s voice came over the speaker.

“Hello?” she said, in a voice almost unrecognizable. Her answer was followed by a brief moment of rough hacking and coughing, which was cut off as she waited for my reply.

I stared at the intercom, my brief feeling of elation sinking into a knot in the pit of my stomach. I turned away without saying anything and headed back to my apartment.

I walked, numb from the dawning of my new reality rather than the cold surrounding me. There were distant sirens and gunshots, but none of it penetrated my mood or disrupted the flow of my thoughts.

I was alone, truly alone.

The possibility that I wouldn’t survive long enough for this disaster to reverse itself was becoming a reality. I had to make a choice, and soon. Would I follow Nathaniel and see how the other of my kind were faring, or would I continue down the path I was veering toward? The blood in the fridge would only last so long. I knew I was only a few weeks of continued isolation and hunger away from smashing down doors and slaughtering any healthy humans I could find, becoming a feral, wild thing. I was terrified of losing the humanity I had left, the ability to think and reason, losing myself, and becoming the monster forever.

There was one other choice, though. One that my mind shied away from, yet I’d considered it before. I could sit down, right where I was, and wait for morning. It would all be over. As uncomfortable as the idea was, it had a pull, a gravity that threatened to trap me if I thought too much about it. I shook my head, trying to clear my thoughts. No, I wasn’t there yet. I still believed, deep down, that this would eventually pass. I was hungry and blowing things out of proportion. I would do what I could to survive mentally and physically until things returned to normal. And they would return to normal, I assured myself.

A week later, I awoke in my bed and reached for the light. It didn’t turn on. I picked up my phone and saw it hadn’t charged while I slept. Throwing back the covers, I headed for the door to my rooms. I unbolted the heavy door and walked down the hall to the living room. Even before I stepped in front of the huge windows, I knew what I would find.

I pushed forward and gazed out at the city. It had once been beautifully lit by thousands of lights stretching as far as I could see. Now it was a dark landscape, illuminated only by fires burning in the ruined corners of the once-thriving metropolis.

As I stared out the window, the loss of the beautiful view filled me with grief. This disaster had taken the last thing I truly loved here. I felt my ties to the place fall away. This was no longer home. I realized my decision was made. I was ready. I would pack a bag and leave first thing the next night.

13

JULIAN

During my first two days in the cabin, I remained optimistic. I texted Emily to let her know I would be with my family soon and not to worry about me. I looked forward to my parents’ arrival and enjoyed the novelty of being in the cabin in winter. It had even begun to snow, completing the postcard-like atmosphere.

On the third day, however, I began to worry. I hadn’t heard from my parents all day. They were due to arrive by midday, but noon came and went without a word. I tried to reach them by text and called several times, but no one answered. I told myself they were probably on the road, stuck in traffic, and would call when they could. But as time passed, I grew increasingly worried.