The Love Of The Last II Survivors

Chapter 16

Victor's POV

It didn't take long for Shana to fall sound asleep underneath the shade I had set up moments after her much needed meal of the week. 

It was five minutes tops after she laid across from me when I heard her soft snores. And if the growls from the zombies hadn't died down, it would be near impossible to hear it.

Shana laid on her side as she cuddled up in my sleeping bag for insulation against the cold breeze, her head resting on her torn brown backpack.

I leant against the wall allowing myself to rest whilst still being on high alert, eyeing upon the roof door. Though it's metal and looks pretty robust, I can't say the same for the hinges holding it. 

Not only are most of the screws rusty, some of the hinges and screws itself are also missing.

It was only when Shana fell asleep did I notice how poor the condition of the door was. Unfortunately, there was nothing that could be used to block the door from swinging open. 

The roof was completely bare. My hand instinctively found its way to the knife in my pocket. It's still nicely tucked in its sheath.

I'm not sure how many I could kill with just my knife alone in a place where I can't run before I inevitably get surrounded but, if I died, I will make sure I die trying.

Taking my twine from the front compartment of my bag, I went over and tied it to the little hooks on either side of the doors. I made sure to reinforce the door knobs and those hinges with no screws with a few dead knots as well. It's not much but it could buy us some time.

As I waited for the time to pass, I found myself playing with the fog each time I exhaled. It is something I had always enjoyed doing during winter ever since I was a kid. 

It is like smoking a cigarette without the disgusting odor clinging onto you.

So that was what I did as I waited for the sun to set. My eyes drifted from the door, to the fog I made and also I found my eyes drifting back to her sleeping form like a magnet.

Shana was now laying on her back, her face tilted towards me. She still had dried tears on her cheeks, her bottom lip pushed out into a little pout. I'm not sure why but I quite enjoy looking at her.

After so many years of looking, it truly is hard to believe I found a survivor. Someone I could finally speak to instead of one-sided conversation before I had to end them otherwise they'd end me.

I was surprised when I came to know that Shana and her friend have been surviving with no other survivors ever since the apocalypse happened. 

I scratched my head trying to make sense of this. Forget the whole world and instead let's look at the professionals. Even with all the hardcore training, the soldiers are dead.

How the heck did they survive? I mean they must have some serious skills in order to survive this long, right? After thinking long about this, I came to a final conclusion. 

She just happens to be at the right place at the right time with a certain set of skills just like me.

I turned my head towards her and glanced at her pouty lips. I felt my heart clenched a little at the sight of sorrow and exhaustion written across her face despite her rest. 

Earlier when I just saw her, she was almost at her breaking point when her last strand of hope was taken away.

My eyes softened. Not only was she grieving, she was traumatized and at that time-precious moment, she lost her will to live.