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All I had to do was outlast the Infected; a simple enough task. My family had been smart and had kept our bunker fully stocked with plenty of essentials and even some non-essentials like gasoline, some changes of clothes, guns and ammunition, and other miscellaneous things we thought might come in handy. Because it was only me in the bunker, I could have easily lasted for three weeks down here, maybe even a month. I knew, though, my sanity...what was left of it at least...would not last that long.

After I had cried myself dry on the cold cement floor, I started doing things that would be productive, feeling rather empty inside. The Infected would move on for food within three day to a week; I just had to live that long. Getting out a kerosene camping stove, I got out a small pan to warm up some canned soup. While it warmed, I stripped myself of all my clothes, tossing them in a pile in the corner where I wouldn't have to see them; mementos of things still too painfully recent.

Clearing out a large plastic bin of cookery items, I poured in one of the many, many large containers of clean water. Obtaining a small, slightly dusty rag from one of the shelves, I knelt next to the bin and washed. I washed away sorrow, pain, grief...leaving me cold and empty and devoid of emotion. I washed away the grime of my fur; all I had left of my family, rinsed away with the rag.

Now bare of filth and feeling, I rummaged in the sacs of spare clothing for something suitable. Finally, I found some underwear, a pair of pants that were made of thick black material and had many pockets, a clean white undershirt, and a black leather jacket. A leather jacket might seem a little much for a bunker clothing supply, but it had been my dad's and I hadn't wore it much before it was put in here. It seemed like a good choice now, considering that once I was out of this bunker, I would be traveling most of the time and would need hardy gear.

Walking back over to my now-warm soup, I turned off the stove and grabbed a spoon from the small stash of cutlery. After unfolding a small metal chair, I sat down and ate the meal straight from the pan. A week at most...I can do this.

*** *** ***

Careful...careful...

Slowly, after four days of solitude, I inched open the bunker hatch, ears flat against my skull from nervousness. The bright, natural light of the sun made my eyes water as a few rays shown against my face. Seeing no Infected limbs through the small opening, I pushed the hatch further open, letting my ears unfold to catch any sounds of movement. Nothing. Looking in all directions slowly, I saw no Infected waiting.

Smiling a bit, I crawled back down into the bunker, my vulpine tail flicking happily. Once down, I gathered up everything I would need, which, for the most part, was already packed. In a large pack, I had stuffed two small revolvers and the corresponding ammunition, all the basic things for scavenging, an extra undershirt and a pair of underwear, and as much nonperishable food items as I could fit. Off the side of the pack, a container of water hung, while, in one of the outside pockets of the pack, I had stashed water-purifying tablets. After wrapping my feet paws with cloth strips and throwing on my father's old jacket, I grabbed the pack and slung it over my shoulder. I slipped a third handgun in the pocket of my pants, grabbed a 12 gage and a box of ammunition, and put on a respirator after a quick thought. With everything, I finally went to the entrance and ascended into the outside world.

A light wind blew, making the now-wild wheat sway and sigh as I climbed out from the sanctuary of the bunker. I smiled a little, refreshed by the feeling of the breeze ruffling whatever fur on my body was exposed. After shutting the entrance hatch, I did a quick circle as a precaution. Still finding nothing, I made my way around the house to where my motorcycle was still parked in front of the garage.

Wheeling it off to the side, I opened the garage door, revealing my most prized find while out scavenging. There sat, a little dusty from lack of use, a dark blue 2013 Dodge Dart. When I had found it, I couldn't believe my luck; though the paint was warn, and there were a few dents in the body, this 28 year old car still ran like a dream. Perfect for a time when gas was scarce, this specific model, with a 2 liter engine and 6 speed transmission, could get a good 36 miles per gallon on the highway.

I had found it in the parking lot of one my scavenging sites. It had been unlocked, but my hopes had been dashed when I saw it was a keyless start, until I saw a purse in the passenger seat. Rifling through, I'd found the key, several useless dollar bills, and various other things one would expect to find in a purse. Taking the battery and the key home with me, I had charged the old battery cell so that I could get it to start. Mother had liked the prospects of having a real car, and planned to help me get it. Taking a large risk, due to the possible reward, we had my sister, Carmella, who was 12 at the time, stay home alone while Mom and I rode out together on my cycle. Bringing one of the many gas cans and the now-charged battery, I had sped us to the old Dart. After connecting the battery and pouring in the relatively fresh gasoline, the engine had spluttered for over a minute before it fired to life, coughing a bit as the old gas worked through its pipes. I'd driven it back, speeding down the desolate highway as to free as much junk from the engine, while Mom followed behind on the motorcycle.

Back in the present, I popped the hood, taking the car battery off the charger and setting it where it belonged. After connecting it up to the appropriate cables, I hopped in the front seat, where I pushed the start-engine button. The key being in the glove department, the engine coughed once, then purred to life. Shifting into reverse, I backed out slowly, putting it in park once it was completely out. Popping the trunk, I got out and let it idle while I started to pack everything. In went the pack, the rifle, several cans of gas, and, after a trip back down to the bunker, several containers of fresh water.

My tail drooped a bit once I looked back at the desecrated house. I guess...I should go check if there is anything I want from there. Wary of the possibility of another ambush, I padded towards the house slowly, placing my hand-paw on the gun at my side. Pushing open the door slowly, I gulped a bit as I saw even less remaining of my sister and mother. Mostly bones, some ragged bits of flesh and fur hung off in a gristly manner. A large pool of dried blood surrounded the bodies, still showing the smears of my struggle. Steeling my nerves, I turned my eyes away, and, instead, started to rummage around the cupboards and closets for anything useful.

I found a couple heavy-duty flashlights, several packs of D batteries for said flashlights, and a large knife meant for hunting while I pilfered the kitchen. Heading upstairs, I grabbed a big old quilt and afghan from the closet. In my mother's room I took some of the gold jewelry, knowing that it could be good if I need to bargain or barter with other survivors. While I was slipping a necklace into a pocket, my eyes caught a lone picture on the dresser. Curious, I picked it up to get a closer look. In it was my family about eight years ago, before the virus had struck.

I was only nine in the picture, a rambunctious young kit who could barely sit still long enough for a photograph. My sister, only five, stood next to Mom, holding tightly to one of her paws while hugging a stuffed fox close. Dad, a tall fur with dark russet markings, had one paw draped around Mom's shoulder, while the other held me in place. Seeing us all, smiling, happy, alive...without another thought, I took the picture out if the frame, folded it, and slipped it into the interior pocket of my jacket. Ignoring the single tear seeping into my cheek fur, I gathered up my lootings and headed back down to the idling Dart.

After putting everything in the car, I closed the trunk and drove the car a little ways away from the house. Getting out again, I walked back to the garage and took one of the remaining cans of fuel that I couldn't fit in the car. Walking to the house with a sullen face, I opened the door and began to pour all the gasoline onto what remained of my family. After the canister was emptied, I took a small flint and a pocket knife from my pants pocket.

If I can't bury them...might as well cremate them...

I saw a thin trail of black smoke in the rearview mirror ad I got back in the car. Looking away, I drove off, heading west towards what had once been Colorado.

There was nothing left for me here.

*** *** ***

My sister had always called me weird, but I really liked older music. As I drove at top speed down the desolate highway, I enjoyed the luxuries of a working A/C and a CD player. After finding the Dart, once I had found out the CD player still worked, I had stored my whole CD collection in the foot space of the passenger seat. Music turned up loudly, I jammed out to Maroon 5, head singer Adam Levine singing loudly about some heart break while I happily mouthed along to the words. It was a welcomed distraction from the barren and bleak landscapes that even surpassed the previous monotony of pre-virus Kansas.

Every now and then I would speed by a seemingly deserted city or dusty old town. There could have been other survivors there, but I didn't care to find out. Sometimes, I would even spot a few Infected meandering slowly along the side of the road, here and gone in a second. And eventually, a whole CD's worth of driving later, I zipped past the "Now entering Colorado" sign. I still had a good seven eighths of a gas tank left, but my stomach was starting to rumble. After pulling along the side of the road and chewing through some beef jerky, I was off again.

Following the same road, which had once been a four lane interstate and highway, I came upon a city called Limon in a little under an hour since I had passed into Colorado. Slowing down, I cruised at about 40 mph through the city, taking in the site. I saw two kids, both human, playing in the front of one yard, but they quickly stopped and ran inside once they saw my car. With a small sigh, I continued on, starting to head north on what had been I-70.

A little bit out of Limon, I found a Dodge dealership that had specialized in older cars. With a stroke of genius, I pulled in and quickly found another 2013 Dart. Breaking the window with the butt of my 9 mm, I reached in and found the latch that popped the hood. Having taught myself about car repair after initially finding my car, I quickly located the alternator and the air filter. Loading those in my car as spares, I drove up to the dealership entrance. Luckily, it was open so I could walk inside. My hand at my hip, ready to pull and shoot, I swiftly maneuvered my way through the building to the maintenance area. Grabbing a new bottle of oil from a stack near the wall, I gathered up everything else I would need for an oil change. A sweaty 30 minutes and a few grease spots later, I finished only the second oil change in my life, which had gone markedly better than my first.

Pulling out of the dealership, I sped off again towards what some signs on the road named as Denver. If I remembered my old schooling right, Denver was the capital of Colorado. Might be a good place to scavenge, as long as I don't get too far into the city. And quickly, within 40 minutes or so, I reached what was labeled as the Denver Metropolitan Area. As I slowed down because I was going deeper into the city, I noticed that the signs all said I was now in Aurora. _I guess I could start here..._I thought as I pulled to the side of the street, parking behind some other abandoned cars.

Getting out, I got in the back seat and hid anything that might signify that this car was in working order. Walking over to the side of the road, I picked a large handful of dirt, which I then sprinkled all over the top of the Dart, to add to its unused look. Opening the door and popping the trunk, I got my scavenging stuff out of my pack. Two fully loaded guns, a 9 mm and a revolver, were at my hips. A respirator covered my muzzle, simply as an over-precaution, while most of my furred body, except my head and tail, was covered in leather or thick cloth, putting an extra layer between my skin and gnashing teeth. My ensemble was complete with my scavenging back hanging from my shoulders and my newly-acquired hunting knife strapped to my thigh.

Swiftly and silently, I made my way into the mostly-commercial part of the city, knowing I would probably find the best things there, if anything was left. Creeping around the corner of a street, I started to look for a good shop to pilfer through. As my eyes scanned the street. I saw I cluster of dead bodies littering the middle of the street. Creeping forward, they were, in fact, the bodies of Infected, and were freshly killed. "Damn..." I breathed out silently.

I wasn't alone here. It could only be a group, due to the number of infected lying dead.

Calm down! I though hurriedly as I leaned against a nearby wall, heart skipping a beat. _This...This isn't necessarily bad. They could be friendly..._I try to reason, but my tail betrayed my worry. My brain putting up a good argument, I resolved to see if I could track them down. I'd watch from afar to see if they were hostile.

Talking a few calming breaths, I continued down the street, keeping to the shadows as I followed the trail of Infected bodies. Knowing it was a group, it made no sense to try and scavenge these stores, since they would already have been picked over. Maybe I can trade some supplies...I guess, that depends on what they have.

Eventually, I caught up to the group. I had no trouble finding them, due to the lovely trail of carnage and the corresponding lack of Infected. Peaking around the corner, it was a group of 6, and they appeared to be all human, and mostly teens. I saw a tall one with dark brown hair make a waiving gesture; the others then followed his direction and crossed to the other side of the street. After this guy, who appeared to be leader, pointed and obviously said something I couldn't hear, the group split into two and each took a different store.

Creeping forward fast along the side of the street, I crouched down behind a dilapidated pickup truck. Peering around the truck carefully, I watched as the two groups entered the stores, one led by dark-brown-hair guy, the other by some girl with wavy amber hair. I was close enough, now, that when they came outside again, I would be able to just barely catch their conversations. After about 10 minutes, the girl's group came out of their store and started to head to the other's specified store.

"Wait, what's that?" I heard one of the guys say. Her whole group stopped and stared down the street. Getting to my hands and knees, I looked under the car instead of around in the direction of the three's gaze. About two blocks away, was a large gang of obviously hostile survivors. All grown men, all packing serious heat. I saw one in front gesture and the whole group drew their weapons, firing away at the six. Looking back across the street and folding back my sensitive ears from the sudden eruption of noise, I witnessed the glass-storefront shatter and dark-brown-hair guy crouching down, firing a small hand gun at the group.

Knowing I hadn't been spotted yet, I quickly sprinted across the street and ducked into an alleyway. I have to get out of here...can't use the main road..._I thought, as I started to run down the alley. Pulling my 9 mm out and holding it at ready, I quickly made my way through the trashed side street, trying desperately to find my way back to a main street so I could get to my vehicle. _I had traveled in, towards the mountains, and my car was facing the mountains, so...

BANG!

"Jonathon!" A piercing scream shattered my train of thought. A second sound of gunshot echoed from the alley to my right. Grimacing, I reluctantly ran towards the sounds. I shouldn't be sticking my neck out for them! My legs compelled me to do otherwise. Turning the corner, I saw three men surrounding amber-hair girl. They, however, did not see me, which worked to my advantage. A tall bald one had his meaty grip around her neck, while she struggled, weaker by the second. With a trained eye, I took aim and fired three bullets. The three men fell, a bullet in each of their skulls.

Her throat released, the girls fell to the ground, coughing hard as her lungs struggled to refill. Quickly taking off the respirator and stuffing it in a pants pocket, I ran forward and wrapped my arms around her shoulders, then helped her to her feet. "Quick! We've got to go! There are more of those hostiles, and the infected will be flocking here soon enough; we will surely die if we don't go now!" I whispered to her as I started to pull her back the way I'd come.

"Wha...what about David...Aaron?" I heard her wheeze, her face hesitant.

"There is no time, did you not here what I said?!" Tugging on her wrist, I started to run back down the alley way. Silently, I worked out a mental map in my head. _I was on a main street, two lanes per side. If the mountains are west, I went north a couple blocks, maybe three. _The alley way deposited us in another street, but it didn't look to be the one my car was on. Without me having to pull her along, the girl followed behind me as I ran...east, away from mountains...towards the intersection of two streets. Hopefully, it would be easier to follow a paved street south than go through the alleyways.

"David! Aaron!" amber-hair girl gasped from behind me, and ran to where a tall blonde boy had just rounded the corner. Supported on his shoulder was dark-brown-hair guy.

"Clara!? I thought David had sent you with Jonathon!" The one who was, logically, called Aaron questioned, leaning against the wall to catch his breath.

"Jonathon is dead. This thing here saved me, though." She made a nonchalant gesture towards me as she spoke.

"Jonathon's....dead?" The one who must have been David muttered. The hand that wasn't around Aaron was held at his side; a large stain of red ran out from under his hand. His knee, however, looked worse. It was very bloody, with a bullet-hole in the denim that proved what I feared had happened; he'd been shot through the knee.

"Hey...uh...we kind of have to go now unless you want to be dead like that Jonathon guy." I spoke up, taking a step closer.

"I have to agree with it, Aaron." Clara spoke, acting like I wasn't really there. It?

"I agree with him, also, Clara," Aaron said, giving her a pointed look when he accented "him."

"We're all in agreement, so let's just go already!" I said, taking a step towards the direction of my vehicle. Aaron, with a large grunt, hoisted David up and over his shoulder, who hissed with pain as his side wound was jostled. Handing my 9 mm to Clara, I asked, "Please, take this to cover our backs if needed." She simply nodded and took the gun. "Alright, let's go"

After 15 minutes of searching and some bullet-dodging, I finally found me way to the main street and, from there, to my car. Opening the door, I reached in and pressed the start button. The engine purred to life almost instantly, while I hopped in.

"You can lay David along the back seat. Use the blankets on the floor if you need to." I directed as I checked the dashboard. Hearing several doors open and slam shut, I turned and saw Clara in the back with David's head in her lap. Aaron was sitting in the passenger seat, marveling at the running car.

Swiftly, I turned the car around and drove out of Aurora. Soon, I came to the onramp for I-70, which I took and, now on the open road, quickly sped up to nearly 100 mph.

The more distance, the better.

"How the hell did you manage to find this old clunker? And one that works too?" Aaron asked, trying to make conversation while I raced along.

"Luck, and nothing much else"

"Well, damn, I wish I was that lucky."

"Oh, I'm not lucky", I said with finality. If I was, they wouldn't be dead.