Searching For A Home

Living in the Past

He stopped when he saw a bright blue shirt which stuck out to him. He looked up at the logo of the building and read "Rain," before entering. He grabbed the shirt and checked its size, medium. He put the shirt on the rack and took his off, tossing it away. He put the blue shirt on and liked how it looked. He was making his way out of the store when he spotted a rack with what looked like snacks.

He ran to it and was happy to see there were four whole bags of beef jerky. He took them all off the rack and shoved them into his quiver. While his hand was inside the quiver, he felt a piece of paper and pulled it out. He opened up his map and searched for the area he was in. He pointed at the shopping center on the map and moved his finger to his destination. He wasn't far now, only a couple of miles.

Diego went back outside and went into the street. He looked at the map one more time before folding it and shoving it back inside the quiver. He took one more look at his shirt. "Nice color." He started his journey again to a place he used to call home.

****

Diego's day was almost gone as the sun began to set. He was standing in the middle of the street of the town, once known as Boston. Technically, it's still called Boston, but there weren't many people around to call it so. The world was hit with a plague that took out 95% of it's population of humanity. Diego, one of the few who survived, was traveling back home.

Diego had been alone for a long time and preferred it that way. The last time he had a companion, they turned on him over an apple and almost killed him. Sad thing was he was willing to share it. After that incident, Diego decided he would only travel alone and avoid anyone else.

He pulled out his map as he stood in front of a street sign, it read Blue Hill Ave, the rest was hard to read over the moss. He looked at the map and found Blue Hill Ave. He was on the right path but wasn't sure where exactly he was. He put the quiver down and the map under it. He climbed up the sign, sat on top and brought out his tomahawk. He used it to scratch the moss off. The sign snapped in half and Diego groaned.

He sat on top of the broken street sign and leaned back in frustration. He had his head back and was looking up at the sky. The sun was setting and he could see the full moon coming up. As he brought his head down, he recognized a sign. It was a sign pointing towards Franklyn Park.

"Franklyn Park," said Diego. "I remember that park," he said with a laugh. The park was near his old home and Diego was very happy to know he was on the right path.

Diego's head snapped to the right when he heard laughter in the distance. He saw them, a group of at least four men. Diego dropped down and grabbed his quiver. He took off running down the street in the opposite direction of them. He got out of the middle of the street and looked towards the buildings to the right and left of him. They were small apartment buildings and good spots to hide in. Most of the buildings were beat up, but some more than others.

Diego took a look back and saw one of the men coming into view. Diego dropped to the ground and tried to hide among the grass. He looked at the house nearest to him and wasn't happy with its condition. He had no other choice but to go to it. If he stood up and ran for another hideout, he'd risk being seen.

He crawled to the building and approached it through the side. He stood up as soon as he was out of sight of the men. He observed the windows and two out of three of them were broken. Afraid he would cut himself with the broken glass, he headed towards the window, which was not broken. He tried to push it up, but it took a bit of strength. He opened the window just enough to climb inside. He closed it behind him.

The house was covered in dust, mold, and moss. Diego liked how the plants felt on his hands as he gripped them. He calmed himself as he tried to listen for the men outside. When he couldn't hear them, he stood up and walked around the house. He looked for stairs and made his way to the back of the apartment. He opened the back door and found the stairs. He made his way up, watching his step as he found a couple of holes.

Diego entered the top floor apartment and made his way to the living room and to a window with the view of the street. He made sure only to peek a bit outside, enough not to be seen by the men. It took him a while to spot them, but when he did, he ducked out of sight.

He counted the men, there being nine of them. There wasn't a single woman among them. Diego learned early on to stay away from groups like these. Groups consisting of five to ten men were usually up to no good. They would attack smaller groups and take whatever they wanted. If there were women in the small groups they attacked, they would use them until they were satisfied and if they were lucky, they would let them go. Most of the time, one of the men would get a little too out of control and accidently kill the woman. Diego referred to these types of groups as marauders. He got their name out of a video game he used to play. These men were those video game characters come to life.

The marauders continued down the street and Diego relaxed. The sun was almost down and they seemed to be in a hurry. They must have camped nearby. Diego would have to be careful on his travels tomorrow.

Diego walked around the apartment, looking for a latch that led to the roof. It took him a couple of minutes, but he found it in the apartment's bathroom. He climbed up to the roof and watched his step as he looked for a good place to lay down. It was already dark and he could see a fire in the distance. That's where the marauders' camp must be. He took a mental note to maybe mark it down on the map in the morning.

Diego made himself comfortable between two large roots as he got ready for sleep. Diego only ever slept inside when it was raining. He always prefered to sleep outside with the fresh air. He fell asleep within minutes.