3:57AM.

  That was what came into view on my dinky digital clock as my eyes slowly opened.

  'Three minutes early…'

  I really hate when that happens because it feels like I'm losing out on valuable sleep. But it was a lot better than waking up late. I had a long day ahead of me after all.

  I sat up in my sleeping bag, my head still stewing in the early morning grogginess of sleep.

  'Yup, I definitely needed those three extra minutes.'

  It was dark, the only source of light being the sickly-green glow of the clock. Refusing to succumb to the sweet temptation of sleep, I got my legs out of the bag and crawled to the entrance of the tent, pulling the zip upwards.

  The cold morning air rushed in along with the moon's light as I clambered out onto the rooftop I called home. I stretched as I stood, loosening up my limbs and trying to shake off the lingering bits of sleep left. Walking to the edge of the roof and leaning against the guard rail, I surveyed the town and the buildings around me from my twenty-storey vantage point.

  It was deadly quiet. No light to be seen in any of the buildings, nor noise coming from the streets due to early-risers driving off to work. The only sound that filled this silence was the gentle whooshing of the wind between the buildings.

  It was the same at every time of the day, everyday.

  I looked up at the moon and stars, drinking in the sight of them. Perhaps the only good thing from this darkness was the absence of any light pollution. The stars were able to shine in all their splendour. White stones interwoven with the black fabric of the night sky. They stood there, brilliant and static, unchanging.

  A stark contrast to my dark reality, where nothing was the same.

  I pulled myself out of the depressing revelry and went back to the tent to grab a box of matches lying close to the inside of the entrance. There was a wooden pole at the very centre of the roof. I pulled off the piece of cloth that was covering a lantern. Some rope was tied to its handle, the remaining length of it draped over a groove at the very top of the pole. A makeshift pulley of sorts.

  The kerosene-soaked wick slid out as I turned the knob of the lantern. I used a match to light it, its orange glow warming my hands as I lowered the protective glass. Grabbing the end of the rope, I pulled on it as the lantern gradually climbed into the air, acting as a pseudo lightbulb for some extra bit of light. I tied the end of the rope to the base of the pole and placed a heavy stone on the excess, securing the lantern in place. After that, I went to the edge of the roof, looking out into the distance.

  At first I saw nothing. Then I noticed a small orange light afar off. It would have been impossible to see it if it weren’t this dark. Another orange light popped up somewhere to the left of the first. They weren’t exactly close to each other, but the distance between them was traversable by foot. Both were a lot closer to one another than I was to either.

  I walked to the opposite side of the roof, going a bit past my tent. After looking for a bit, my eyes picked up on about three lights, somewhat equidistant from each other. I went over to another side of the roof where I was expecting to see the last three lights.

  There was just one.

  I observed for a bit longer, but no new light sprung up.

  ‘Well, tonight’s not the first time some lights weren't on. Maybe they just ran out of kerosene.’

  At least that was what I hoped. The current state of the world didn’t permit me to have the lives of others be a burden on my mind. I had to stay focused and ensure my survival.

  ‘Speaking of survival…’

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  I headed back to the tent and tossed the matchbox onto the ground as I crawled in, groping around for my backpack.

  Due to the tent’s position, the light from the lantern didn’t help to brighten the inside. The black, waterproof fabric also made it hard for any light to get in from the outside. I should have probably reoriented the darn thing.

  Finally finding the bag, I came out of the tent and sat on the floor, opening it up and taking inventory of its contents.

  There were a bunch of crackers, more than I would have liked, and some canned food. I had about four of those, although I had a hard time regarding a can of peas as food. I looked up from the bag to the side of my tent where some packs of water bottles were placed. Those could still last me for a week or two if I used them sparingly.

  My immediate issue was food, and I’d eaten enough crackers to last me a lifetime. Another taste of that bland disgustingness would probably lead me into depression. But I had raided all of the nearby stores and supermarkets. If I was going to have any luck finding more stuff to eat, I would have to head deeper into town. That meant a greater chance of running into Juveniles. I wanted none of that.

  Grrrrrrr…

  My stomach growled in protest. The risk of dying did nothing to perturb the voracious fellow. It seemed like hunger would be the death of me. But whether that would be my hunger or the hunger of something else was anyone’s guess.

  I dipped my hand into the bag and brought out a pack of crackers, tearing it open and taking a bite out of one.

  Bleh! Disgusting!

  “Yup, screw this, let’s head into town!” I declared.

  I sprung to my feet with newfound resolve, heading into the tent to grab some clothes. Feeling around the place, my hands brushed up against the clothes I had taken off yesterday. A black cotton shirt; a white, woolly jacket and loose cotton trousers. The less friction they made while walking, the quieter they would be. They were also a great fit in case I had to run.

  I put them on and reached into the tent to get my trusty partner. After failing to find it for a short while, I grabbed the clock which now read 4:06AM and used it as a source of light and found what I was looking for. A metal baseball bat wrapped tightly in bandages, with a small tennis ball fixed onto its base.

  “Hope you had a nice night?” I said to the bat, accepting that I was probably going senile from isolation.

  The bat, of course, did not reply. I picked it up and caught a faint metallic glimmer from the corner of my eye. I contemplated for a moment, ultimately deciding to grab the object and put it in my jacket’s pocket as insurance.

  I came out of the tent and went around to its back where my shoes were. A humble pair of black sneakers that had once looked cool but were now worn out from long treks everyday.

  ‘Maybe I ought to grab a new pair along the way.’ I thought to myself as I put them on and tied the laces.

  Right next to where I kept the shoes were a pair of thick foam—the sort you'd find in mattresses—with their centre depressed enough for my feet to fit in and elastic straps to secure them in place. I grabbed them and walked to my bag. Emptying the rest of its contents into the tent, I put a bottle of water in the pockets on both sides, and placed the baseball bat headfirst into it, with the handle sticking out. I decided to put off wearing the foam sandals till I got farther into town.

  I stayed still for a moment, trying to recall if I was forgetting anything. After deciding I wasn’t, I went around to grab an extra bottle of water to wash my face and then brush my teeth. The world may have gone into disarray, but morning breath was here to stay.

  I went to the wooden pole to lower the lantern. After snuffing out the fire, I looked around to where I had seen the orange lights. Some were still on, while others had taken theirs down just like I did. I grabbed my bag and headed towards the door that led off the roof and into the building below. I opened it and locked it behind me when I got out, dropping the key into a small ring box that had a padded interior and then tossing it into my bag.

  The building had seen better days. It used to be an office, one of the biggest in this part of the city even, and evidenced by the papers strewn across the floor and spilling out of the rooms, it was a marketing firm of sorts. There were cracks in the walls, with weeds and algae setting up refuge in them. It felt like the building got more dilapidated each time I made my descent down the concrete stairs. Broken tiles decorated my path on the ground floor where the reception was, with fissures forming on the ceiling.

  Of course, I couldn't quite see any of it at the moment, given how dark it was. The only torch I could find had long given up on life and left me to grope my way through darkness. However, I had long since memorised the building's interior from the times I walked around it during daylight. I got to the glass double-door that served as the entrance and stepped out, being greeted once again by the early-morning wind.

  Then I finally began my long trek into this broken city.