2. Others

He could feel Jack trembling a bit after he spoke. 

"Me too...." he whispered, feeling sleepy — which was not a good sign. 

"How deep...." If he said more, he had the feeling he would vomit again. Jack understood but hesitated. 

"Buddy, I'm no doctor, so I can't say... how about you rest here, just lean on me, and we wait a bit for an ambulance? How about that?" 

"Ok." He understood what Jack meant: It's bad.

'Ah, fuck this shit.'

But he had to say that he was thankful for not being alone in this situation. He mouthed the word 'Thanks' but his voice didn't come out as his eyes closed involuntarily.

When he awoke a second time, Jack wasn't there, and he leaned on a rock; it was the spot from before. It was night, and the dust in the air had settled another good amount; at least that was what he assumed because he could breathe easier. He couldn't see a thing; there were no stars, and there was no moon. No streetlights, no electricity—nothing.

There were no voices like before, no yelling, no crying. 

Absolute silence.

'Don't touch your head,' he reminded himself. 

Then, at the slowest pace possible, he tried standing up. It wasn't easy, but it wasn't hard either. 

He wondered if this was because his body was improving, or if it was the last fight of his dying body. Stretching out his arms, he tried to feel through the night as he took a few steps in a random direction. There was so much sand on the street; it was strange. You could feel that there was indeed asphalt in a few spots, but it was partly broken into segments and partly covered with sand. He walked and found on his way a few uneven walls and other rocky surfaces, so he assumed there was bigger debris lying around—at least bigger than himself and wider than he could reach. 

Now he was standing in front of a rocky debris wall where he couldn't continue forward, so he went in the opposite direction.

Another while later, he reached a building, but it was askew as a whole; part of it sunken into the ground—this discovery was not very reliable though, because he could only use his hands to touch what was around him, not seeing anything.

There was no glass in the windows; maybe they were open? He urgently wanted to enter somewhere for a rest; the first floor of this building wasn't that high, but he found there was no way for him to climb in his condition, and he couldn't find any doors. 

He turned in the direction to his left. There were other buildings, all of them broken and sunken—who knows how deep—all without glass in the windows. He didn't enter, as the buildings seemed to depend entirely on broken walls and didn't feel stable.

Finally, he heard a sound; it wasn't near, but he could hear it surprisingly clear—the whimpering of a child.

At this moment, he noticed why he felt so creeped out the whole time—the air was still, there was no wind, no breeze, and no insects. It just didn't feel right.

He walked towards the weeping sound and found himself in front of a significantly less destroyed wall. The door leaned halfway out of its angled position. He didn't know what to do, so he just knocked. The crying sound abruptly stopped, and he heard a, "Shh!".

So he did his best and said it as clearly as he could,

"Is anybody here...? I mean.. no harm." He heard footsteps and saw light moving towards himself; finally, the door moved. A man peeked out with a candle in his hand and showed a shocked expression. Then he moved the door with difficulty so he could enter. 

As he entered, he saw clearly that this was a general hallway leading to numerous apartments. The man helped him to an apartment on the right side at the end of the corridor. No words were spoken.

After he entered, he saw at least ten people in the big living room, sitting around an old pot used to light a fire in it. They looked desolate. A woman screamed as she got a good look at him, and the surrounding others mumbled things like 

"Holy...", so the metal thing in his head should not look that good.

"Forgot...my....hat," he stammered to the group of survivers, but nobody laughed. 

He didn't care either 

"Bathroom?"

The man who opened the door for him brought him to the bathroom and left him a candle. He hoped that there was a mirror, but there was only a broken frame. He tried to wash his hands, but there was no water. He saw a door that was next to the sink. He opened it, and it stank so much that he closed it immediately. 

So no water, no toilet flushes, the folks here just made do with the toilet bowl. 

'There isn't even a mirror, so what did I come to the bathroom for?'