I would like to thank Ruby Lydia, Olowosoyo Temitope Glory, Horlahh Biblion, Jibola Coker, Sara Piesse, zabeth_00, BoredNowFlayer, and Jackal King for beta reading and helping me improve!

  Chapter 3

  Sally and Rick woke up the next morning, feeling refreshed. Sunlight streamed through the gap in the curtains, painting stripes across the bedroom floor. The air was warm and carried the various scents of the city outside their window.

  Sally stretched languidly, her limbs unwinding from the comfortable slumber. Rick, already awake, was humming softly to himself as he reached for his water bottle on the nightstand. He chuckled, a low rumble in his chest, remembering a particularly funny dream involving a squadron of singing penguins.

  The quiet comfort of their shared space settled around them like a warm blanket, a peaceful prelude to the day's adventures. They lay there for a few more moments, savoring the lingering stillness before the demands of the day began to intrude. The gentle rise and fall of their breaths synced, a silent conversation of contentment and shared intimacy.

  Finally, Sally sighed contentedly, a soft sound that broke the peaceful quiet.

  "Morning," she murmured, her voice thick with sleep.

  Rick smiled, leaning over to kiss her forehead. "Morning, sleepyhead," he replied, his voice filled with affection. “How did you sleep?”

  “I slept well. How about yourself?” Sally asked.

  “Much better than I did last night, knowing that we are in the safety of the penthouse,” Rick answered before he got out of bed and walked to the bedroom window, seeing many zombies in the streets hundreds of feet below.

  “How many zombies do you see out there?” Sally inquired.

  “They are all over the place,” Rick responded before adding, “We will need to be prepared for anything. No matter what happens, I will always be there to protect you.”

  “Thank you, Rick. You are the most loyal man a woman could ever ask for,” Sally replied with a grateful smile.

  “Anything for you, Sally,” Rick stated with a wink.

  The young couple showered and got dressed. After that, they smelled something that made their stomachs growl.

  “What is that amazing smell? It smells like eggs, waffles, and toast,” Rick said. “Maybe Graham is preparing breakfast for us.”

  “It does smell good. The pleasant scent is making me hungry,” Sally replied, rubbing her stomach.

  “Then we should eat,” Rick finalized as the couple made their way to the kitchen.

  When they entered the kitchen, they saw Graham preparing protein-packed waffles, scrambled eggs, Dave’s Killer Bread 21 Whole Grains and Seeds toast, coffee, and a fruit bowl with bananas and assorted berries. Unlike the fruit bowl that Rick and Graham had yesterday, there were also sliced oranges, apples, and pears.

  Graham greeted them warmly. “Good morning, Sally. Rick. Did you two sleep well?”

  “We slept great. Thank you. How about yourself?” Rick wondered.

  “Better than I have in a long time,” Graham replied, smiling.

  “Thank you for making breakfast for us,” Sally stated gratefully.

  “Of course. I was just trying to ensure that we have the energy we need for today. We should be prepared for whatever the zombies can throw at us,” Graham explained.

  Sally and Rick nodded in agreement.

  There was a pleasant silence as they ate their breakfast, the only sounds the gentle clinking of silverware against and the occasional soft sigh of contentment. Sunlight streamed through the window, illuminating motes of dust dancing in the golden beams.

  The aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the sweet scent of waffles, creating a comforting, domestic atmosphere.

  Rick watched Sally, her brow slightly furrowed in concentration as she carefully spread butter on her waffles, a small smile playing on her lips. The silence was not awkward. Rather, it was a comfortable silence, a shared understanding that transcended the need for words. It was the kind of silence that allowed for quiet contemplation, for the unspoken appreciation of the simple joy of a shared meal, a quiet morning together before the day's demands began to encroach. The rhythmic scrape of her fork against the plate punctuated the stillness, a gentle counterpoint to the steady hum of the refrigerator in the next room.

  Once they were done eating, everyone prepared for what they would face once they left the penthouse.

  “What is the plan for today, Graham?” Rick inquired.

  “I was thinking that we should search for more supplies, weapons, and any survivors. While there are not likely to be very many, I have no doubt there are some survivors out there somewhere,” Graham explained.

  “Will do. Let’s do this,” Rick replied confidently.

  Graham nodded before turning his attention to Sally. “Have you ever used a gun before Sally?”

  “I have not. With what we are facing, I am sure it would not hurt to learn how,” Sally replied.

  “Okay. I taught Rick how to use a gun when we were staying at my cabin,” Graham replied before he reiterated everything about guns and firearms that he had taught Rick previously.

  After Graham had concluded his explanation, Sally nodded in understanding. “I think I should be able to learn how to use firearms just fine. The only problem is there is only enough weapons for you and Rick.”

  “Then we will have to look for a weapon for you to wield,” Graham said. “It seems that the penthouse is most likely the only safe area in the entire building. Once we go down a floor, we will have to be prepared for waves of zombies.”

  “Should we search for weapons on the next floor below us?” Rick asked.

  “That is what I am thinking,” Graham responded.

  Rick nodded before he turned to his wife. “Until we can get you a weapon to wield, I would suggest you stay behind us, Sally. We will make sure to protect you for any zombies that try to attack us.”

  “I will,” Sally replied, placing a hand on her husband’s shoulder.

  The trio, their rucksacks brimming with food, water, and weapons, descended in the elevator, selecting the button for the sub-penthouse level - the highest accessible point short of the exclusive penthouse itself.

  Guns poised, Graham and Rick braced themselves as the lift plunged downwards, their weapons aimed at the impending aperture. Sally stood behind them, anxiously awaiting what was to come for them.

  Once the elevator door opened, the trio were surprised to see that there were no zombies at all. It was eerily quiet.

  “I have a bad feeling about this,” Rick stated.

  “Same here. I do not like how quiet it is. The zombies could jump out at us at any minute,” Graham responded before he turned to his left and saw a footlocker, ammo stockpile, and a first aid box.

  “There should be some weapons and ammo in here. We must hurry though, for zombies could attack soon,” Rick said before the trio hastily retrieve everything they could find in the containers.

  The first aid box had several medical kits and bandages, while the footlocker had an Uzi and a minigun.

  “This will prove very useful with taking out large hordes of zombies at once,” Graham said as he loaded the minigun with ammo.

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  “Sally, since I already have the desert eagle here, you can have the Uzi,” Rick said, handing the weapon to Sally after they loaded it.

  “Okay. Just so we are clear, the Uzi will fire ammo as long as I have my finger on the trigger, right?” Sally wondered.

  “Exactly,” Rick confirmed.

  Before they could do anything else, an enormous hole burst in the ceiling, and zombies began to fall through the hole and make their way towards the trio.

  The trio opened fire, taking out the zombies with relative ease at first; the initial volley was a satisfying crackle of gunfire, each shot finding its mark with horrifying efficiency. Brains splattered, limbs were severed, and the ground quickly became slick with a gruesome mixture of blood and decaying flesh.

  However, the initial wave was merely a ruse. From the cavernous ceiling, a monstrous legion of the undead appeared and surged forth, an unstoppable wave of decay and death. The comforting rhythm of their gunfire began to falter as the sheer number of the approaching monsters overwhelmed them. No longer could they pick off individual targets; instead, they found themselves spraying bullets wildly, hoping to create enough space to retreat. The air grew thick with the stench of decay, the groans and hisses of the approaching zombies a deafening chorus of death. Some of the zombies, faster and more agile than the others, sprinted at them, their ragged limbs flailing, their eyes burning with a malevolent hunger. The trio’s initial confidence began to crumble under the weight of the relentless assault. Their ammunition felt worryingly finite, and the relentless pressure of the ever-growing horde threatened to consume them.

  At one point, Sally, Rick, and Graham found themselves surrounded. A groaning horde of zombies, their decaying flesh hanging in ragged strips, pressed in from all sides. Clawing hands reached out, grasping at their clothes, their rotting teeth bared in silent, hungry snarls. The air filled with the stench of decay and the guttural moans of the undead.

  Sally, her heart hammering against her ribs, felt a cold, clammy hand brush against her arm. Rick, ever the pragmatist, shoved a zombie away with brutal efficiency, its head snapping back with a sickening crack. He then knocked away the zombie that was attacking his wife.

  Graham, momentarily paralyzed by fear, stumbled back, only to have another zombie latch onto his leg. With a desperate heave, and a grunt of exertion, he managed to kick it off. For a terrifying moment, they were trapped, the sheer weight of the surrounding corpses threatening to overwhelm them.

  However, with a coordinated surge of adrenaline-fueled strength, they fought their way free, shoving and kicking, using whatever they could as weapons – a broken board, a discarded piece of pipe – until they finally broke free from the suffocating grip of the undead. They staggered back, breathless and bruised, but alive, the chilling memory of those grasping, decaying hands still fresh in their minds.

  Sally, though, was gripped by a chilling apprehension; their brush with the undead had been perilously close to utter annihilation.

  “That was too close for comfort,” Sally remarked. “Another moment could have meant certain death for us.”

  “Absolutely,” Graham replied solemnly in agreement before he checked on the young couple. “Are you two alright?”

  “We are okay. Thank you, Graham. Are you okay?” Rick asked.

  “It could have been much worse,” Graham responded. “Hopefully we do not have another wave of zombies like that for a while. Unfortunately, I feel like it is not the last huge wave we will face.”

  “I feel like we will have many more waves of zombies like that going forward. All we can do is be prepared for them,” Rick replied before he gave his wife a reassuring smile. “You did very well for using a gun for the first time, Sally. I am proud of you for the way you were able to hold your own.”

  “Thank you, Rick. I appreciate it,” Sally stated, grinning proudly.

  “Of course, my love,” Rick responded.

  “For someone using a gun for the first time, you did pretty well,” Graham praised.

  “Thank you, Graham. I feel like I still have a lot to learn, but I appreciate your guidance,” Sally said.

  “Of course,” Graham replied. “We should search this floor for a melee weapon for you, Sally.”

  “Are you sure about this? Considering what we just went through?” Sally asked with wide eyes.

  “If we hurry and keep our guard up, I think we will be fine,” Graham replied before they made their way to the door of the apartment closest to them.

  Before they even opened the door, the trio could already hear the groans of more zombies inside.

  “When I open this door, we open fire,” Graham stated, readying his minigun as Rick and Sally got their weapons ready as well.

  “Roger that,” Rick replied as he and Sally got their weapons ready.

  Graham opened the door, and the trio were greeted by a horde of groaning, decaying zombies. The air hung thick with the stench of death and rot, a cloying sweetness mingling with the metallic tang of blood. Dozens of them, it seemed, pressed forward, their ragged clothes clinging to emaciated limbs. Some stumbled, others lurched with surprising speed, their vacant eyes fixed on the three figures silhouetted in the doorway. The first wave, a ragged tide of flesh and bone, advanced with a horrifying, shuffling gait. Graham, ever the pragmatist, immediately fired his minigun, the familiar weight comforting in his hands. Sally, nimble and quick, utilized her Uzi to help aid with taking out the sprinting zombies. Rick, ever the methodical one, used his trusty desert eagle to pick off the slower, more vulnerable zombies at a distance, the rhythmic sound of the firearm punctuating the nightmarish scene. Thankfully, none of the zombies were able to get a hold of them.

  Once the entrance to the apartment was cleared, the trio entered. They saw one of the bedrooms to the side of them after walking down the main hallway of the apartment for a little bit.

  The trio searched everywhere in the bedroom they could think of, meticulously examining every drawer, rummaging through the contents of each. They started with the closet, which was crammed to overflowing, and yielded more than just the initially discovered items. Beyond the deflated basketball and football, a pair of rusty roller skates lay forgotten in a corner, alongside a tangle of old Christmas lights and a box overflowing with moth-eaten sweaters. Tucked away in the back, almost hidden beneath a pile of discarded clothes, they found a small, ornate music box, its lid slightly ajar. The nightstands, besides the expected ammunition for their weapons, contained a tarnished silver locket, a chipped porcelain doll, and a worn leather-bound journal with its pages filled with faded, illegible script. They took the ammo and left everything else.

  As they explored the apartment, the encounters with zombies became more frequent and more challenging. They encountered not just shambling, slow-moving corpses, but also faster, more aggressive variants, forcing them to use more cunning tactics and consume more of their precious ammunition. Each zombie encounter resulted in a lengthy, desperate struggle, leaving them exhausted and their weapons damaged, necessitating careful repairs and reloading during breaks in the action. Once they had finally cleared all the zombies from the apartment – a process that took considerably longer than initially anticipated – the trio resumed their methodical search.

  The kitchen yielded more than just food; they found a surprisingly well-stocked pantry, containing canned goods, dried pasta, rice, and even some surprisingly fresh vegetables. Amongst the cooking utensils, they discovered a well-preserved chef's knife, a valuable addition to their survival supplies. Seventh Generation dish soap, though seemingly mundane, felt like a small victory against the grim reality of their situation. The bathrooms, in addition to the medical kits and bandages, contained a small stash of almost-expired pain relievers and a surprisingly large collection of miniature toiletries – travel-sized shampoos, conditioners, lotions, and toothpastes, offering a fleeting moment of almost comical normalcy. They explored the other bedrooms with the same thoroughness, discovering a hidden compartment in one of the dressers containing a roll of surprisingly strong duct tape and a box of old photographs, offering a glimpse into the lives of the apartment's former inhabitants. The office, initially thought to be unremarkable, revealed a hidden safe containing a small amount of cash and some important documents, possibly revealing clues to the source of the outbreak. Finally, even the seemingly empty storage closet beneath the stairs held a few long-forgotten treasures – a sturdy flashlight and a surprisingly complete first-aid kit. It took the trio the better part of the day to completely and exhaustively search the apartment. Finally, exhausted but with their supplies significantly augmented, they were finished.

  While they found plenty of supplies, Graham was nonetheless disappointed. “I was hoping that we could have found something like another machete or something similar.”

  “I noticed that the machete you have is not only effective, but it is also not very heavy,” Rick pointed out.

  “Exactly. Machetes do a lot of damage and are lightweight. However, there will be situations where a more powerful melee weapon once we obtain them,” Graham explained. “That is why we should keep the sledgehammer we found. Maybe if we get lucky enough, we will find something like a katana.”

  “What is the main difference between a katana and sledgehammer?” Sally wondered.

  “They can both do a lot of damage for melee weapons, but sledgehammers can knock enemies back much better than a katana. Therefore, whenever a large wave of zombies appears, one of us should wield a sledgehammer to knock some of them back so they do not overwhelm us,” Graham elaborated.

  “Okay. That makes sense,” Sally replied with a nod of understanding.

  Graham nodded. “Anyway, let’s get out of here before any more zombies show up now, shall we?”

  “Yes,” Rick said in agreement before the trio made their way back to the elevator.

  Once they arrived at the penthouse, Sally and Rick opted to fix something simple and healthy for dinner.

  The trio enjoyed a hearty grilled chicken salad.

  “It certainly took a lot out of us today to search just one apartment on the floor below us. I am not sure if we should even attempt to search every single floor of this behemoth of a building. Sixty floors! That is sixty times the effort we expended today, and that is a conservative estimate. We are talking days, potentially weeks, of relentless searching, considering the sheer number of apartments on each floor. The time commitment alone is staggering, not to mention the physical and mental toll. We need to realistically assess the feasibility of such a prolonged and exhaustive search. Even if we were to divide the task amongst multiple people, the length of time required would still be substantial, and coordinating that many individuals efficiently would present its own set of considerable challenges. What we need is a more strategic approach, perhaps focusing our efforts on specific floors or utilizing other investigative techniques to narrow down our search parameters. This current rate is simply unsustainable for a building of this magnitude,” Rick stated.

  “Yeah. It would take weeks to search the entire building,” Sally responded.

  “I am afraid that is time we most likely do not have,” Graham said. “We should move tomorrow to see if we can find a way to get out of here.”

  “I agree. If we hope to make it out of the apocalypse alive, we should leave Ivriasey. As much as I love living in this penthouse, I fear it is only a matter of time before the zombies take it over,” Rick said.

  “Yes. We must be prepared for tomorrow. After today, I feel like anything can happen,” Sally replied.

  The trio finished dinner before they bid each other good night, ready to see what the next day had in store for them.