The day came as the others had with the sun rising bringing the light pouring trough the old buildings windows. This was obviously a office at one point but now the stacks of papers were rendered meaningless. The area you had taken an interest in was at one time called Los Angeles. Now a trading post. This was true for most cities the people that survived now scavenged the stuff people could still use. One of the items that traders sought in large supply was food. Farms were now a common sight on the outskirts of a large city. As were guns and people who fought to defend their food from raiders. So many cars were left by owners that were no longer counted among the living. The virus did it's work too well.

You stood up and looked out through the corner offices windows of a once William Baker executive. It was nice even with the thin layer of dust. The leather sofa and arm chair were sun bleached but still comfortable. A picture on his desk showed the trophy wife he would never return to. His secrete bar behind a panel in the wall was well stocked. What was a true treasure was the coffee you knew you could trade with. These offices always had some provisions left over. A good scrounger knew these hidden cashes while others went to the death traps of supermarkets. Some times the elevators worked but some people liked to sabotage them so the stairs were a safer bet. Most people wouldn't climb twelve flights just to get there hands on coffee but that's what made it a good choice for you.

terminated thread.