"You ask that as if it is avoidable." I state as I slowly stroll towards the bordered front window once more. My thoughts darken as I recall the memories of my dealings with survivors, "I was late today. You probably didn't notice, since we don't have any working clocks but everyday when I do my rounds I look to the sky from a particular building and I count how many fingers I can place between the horizon and the sun in the afternoon." I say as I close one eye and stare at my fingers with my arm stretched before me, mimicking what I do during my rounds.
"It helps me put structure in this chaotic world, and so I planned, I said to myself this morning, "When the gate to night is only three fingers from open, I'll sneak back and enjoy the scenery", because you see, there is this street a few blocks down, it's a beautiful street. A street untouched by the chaos outside, there are no corpses, no blood, the cars are parked perfectly and so unscathed that they've built dust on them. It is an untouched relic of the old world, but with the eerie peacefulness of the new world, there are no people marching the side walks, no one exchanging hallow words of little meaning, no one shouting or laughing. It is completely silent." My voice almost seems emphasised by the light echo of the large front room.
I furrow my brows as I continue, "But when I reached that street I found it in ruins. Windows smashed, cars looted and even a motionless zombie corpse now filled my street. But worst of all, the subject of all this carnage stood there, smoking of all things, on my street. He looked relaxed as he leant against a street lamp. A rush of anger surged through me but I was in control, 'It was inevitable' I had thought. But that's when he spotted me, at first he was alarmed but once he noticed I was alive, he casually called me over, and so I went. I'm not sure why, I think I was still shocked by the scene I had just arrived at, but regardless, I marched towards him just as he had called me." I pause to breath a deep sigh as the image of the street flashes in my mind.
"Smiling he asked "Hey stranger, did the sweet scent of tobacco draw you out?" just as he pushed an open packet of cigarettes my way, beckoning me to take one. Can you believe that? a Cigarette! He destroys my street then dares to offer me a fucking cigarette, as if we're acquaintances or pals or something. That's when it happened, it felt so natural as it happened, like it was one quick smooth motion. I had grabbed my knife from my pocket and popped the spring sending the blade arcing out, moments later it opened a hole in his throat as I punched him in the chest as hard as I could to force his last toxic breath from his lungs. As I watched the crimson flow out of his gurgling and shaking body I felt powerful, and in that moment of power I decided that I wasn't going to give into the demands of the survivors any more. But more importantly, I had set myself a goal, my first ambition of the new world; crush the remnants of the old world." I spoke with emphasis. My heart was racing as I recalled every detail.