Summer City, Comcast Center, Sixth Avenue, 06:21 AM.
The sun had begun to rise, illuminating the sky in a mix of vibrant yellow and crimson red. The first orange hued rays of sunrise kissed the still dust laden rubble spread throughout the once so lively city, these soft rays that should have brought warmth to a new day only acted to solidify the reality of what the world had become. The city had grown quiet, its streets abandoned but littered with the wrecks of cars and trucks. No birds to greet the arrival of a new morning, no people left to battle their way through the morning rush to get to work. Summer City had been deserted and ravaged, the only thing remaining to roam its streets and occupy its houses being the painful reminder of what humanity had become, the undead.
Michael had been awake before the sun had risen, he had been starting at the setting moon and then watched how the sun slowly began to take its place in the center of the sky. Sometimes he wondered if life was really worth living, if this was what life had been transformed into. The constant struggle for food and water, for shelter and safety. All that to get up the next morning to do it all over again. Looking down at the street below he sighed, placing one of his legs over the other before finally spinning the office chair he had been sitting in around to properly sit behind the blood covered desk. ''You have an exquisite taste, is this mahogany?'' A small smile forming in the corner of his mouth as he glanced over at the infected executive laying on the ground before him. A struggle had taken place in the office, maybe weeks or months before Michael had gotten there. The executive had half a coat rack implented in its chest, leaving it unable to move. Michael stood up and walked closer to the executive, standing far enough away to be safe. The man on the floor groaned, his right arm raising to reach the dinner that had presented its self on a silver platter, unfortunately for him he wasn't going to get fed any time soon. Michael casually walked over to the fridge in the room, taking out two bottles of whiskey before turning around to face the man again. ''How much do you pay one of these? I'm sure they're pretty expensive. Exquisite taste in furniture and in alcohol.'' he paused briefly, tilting his head as a small smile formed in the corner of his mouth. ''No, I don't drink. But maybe someone else does, i'm sure they'll appreciate this. If I happen to find an alcoholic then I can get a good trade for this.'' He walked closer to the man, stepping on his arm and crouching down. ''I'm no thief though.'' He took out his wallet and withdrew a couple hunderd dollars bills, which he folded needly before placing it in the inside pocket of the man's suit jacket. ''That should cover it.'' He stood up again now, only to briefly bend over again to remove a small ball of dust from the man's suit. ''There, perfect.'' He took a few steps back and picked up his backpack, placing the bottles of whiskey inside. He swung it around his shoulders and opened the door leading out into the hall. ''Have a nice day further.'' On that note he departed the man's office and exited the building. Michael had found that talking and interacting with the infected made him more at ease and comfortable around them, slowly removing his fear in a way. Besides, he had nobody else to talk with.
Summer City, BP Gas Station, Sixth Avenue, 06:34 AM.
At the start of the outbreak many people attempted to either buy or steal supplies, whether they had looted or laid down their life savings to prepare for the coming infection didn't matter, what did matter was where all these people went after loading up their vehicles. Small or big, every vehicle needed fuel. During their rush and panic cars began to block eachother, larger vehicles blockading the way completely to try and get their way. Eventually things had gone wrong and the infected had shown up one way or the other, some people chose to leave their vehicles and others made it their final resting place. Those unfortunate souls were all gone now, but their supplies were not. All of it was still needly located in or on top of their cars, having been left mostly untouched. The swarm of infected that once made the gas station its home had moved away, a few stragglers remaining to patrol the path between the abandoned vehicles.
Michael had been watching this location from the office building, the infected on the street did not pose a significant threat. There were plenty of cars that he could stand up on or ultimately hide in if things went wrong. The thing that really worried him were the corpses laying in the street and occupying the vehicles, they were laying motionless in the same position for days on end. Waiting, pretending to be dead only to spring to life when the oppertunity pretended its self. But then again he also knew that some of the corpses were really dead and wouldn't be a problem anymore. It was a matter of luck and being carefull, he was prepared to be carefull but he could only hope that luck was on his side as well. He slowly moved through the street, clutching his melee weapon in his right hand and staying low to the ground to attract the least attention to himself. He had to strike now, waiting or distracting the infected was not an option. Any noices could potentially make all the infected rise, including those that were pretending to be dead. He kept his guard up, keeping a small distance from corpses as he maneuvered around them, getting closer and closer to his goal.
The distance to the gas station was small but he had to be safe. To Michael it felt like forever before he had finally reached the first couple of cars at the back of the line, the first contained bodies, forcing him to abandon the car and move to the next one in line. Fortune was on his side, or so he tought. The car was empty, allowing him to check the trunk for any canned goods. But he had barely opened the trunk before the smell overwhelmed him, the rotting stench of food filling his nostrils. He quickly pinched his nose and quietly closed the trunk again. One of the vehicles here had to contain what he was looking for, but which one was the qeustion. All he could do now was pick and choose, guessing at what car may or may not contained the food and water he needed. He had no choice but to continue to move from vehicle to vehicle, staying low to the ground and being as quiet as he could. Hoping that the next car he checked contained what he was looking for, yet time and time again he was disappointed at the results within. An hour later he had grown tired and he had begun giving up hope, his searches weren't entirely futile and earned him a sleeping bag, a flash light, three bottles of water and couple magazines, some dirty and some proper reading material. As he moved to the other side of the pile of cars, going over or under some of the vehicles, he saw what he had hoped for. One of the cars had two cases of canned foods, some cans being soup and others being beans or carrots, all of which were needly tucked between two corpses in the back of the car. Unfortunately two more filled the front seats, this was going to be difficult. He was going to need to extract the canned food and he could only hope that the corpses inside wouldn't start moving, he desperately needed food and these cases could feed him for a while. He had to act quickly, if one of the roaming infected saw him he might never get another chance to get close to this car again. He had to take the risk. Michael took a deep breath, clutching his weapon tightly as he slowly opened the door. His arm raising, ready to strike down on what would possibly awaken inside.