The emboldened letters spelling LOS ANGELES came into focus, pulling Adrian out of his trance. As he relived the final moments of Alyssa's life for the first time, unblocked by the side effects of a concussion, he felt his heart cinch shut. It was like experiencing the ordeal for the first time. He felt it again as the gravity shifted, the car lurched through the barriers and remembered his own and Alyssa’s scream, which would be the last noise she made before the airbag inflated and damaged her beyond repair, the angle she took when she dove for the steering wheel was a wrong one to make and at the wrong time. The two hundred mile per hour bag of air took advantage of this and snapped several crucial bones and bent her out of position. It was then that Adrian fell unconscious, at the precise moment that Alyssa’s car hit the water. As blackness was engulfing him, a powerful rush of bubbles rushed by. They rubbed against his skin, and with the multitude of air pockets rushing around, it felt like they scrubbed at him vigorously. He let go of the feeling and came back to reality.

The road sign announcing Los Angeles went by, white text on blue backboard. Adrian recognized through tear-filled eyes that he was only five miles out from the city. That’s… really? The fact that Adrian had driven, as evidenced by the car’s clock that was now displaying 5:52 PM, for forty-five minutes was flabbergasting. That’s, no… that’s not right. Adrian could of swore he had only been lost inside of his past trauma for ten, maybe twenty minutes. There wasn’t a single recollection of making any turns, noting any previous signs… hell, Adrian didn’t even remember driving through Santa Monica.

The last memory he had of this voyage was of coasting on the Pacific Coast Highway, and then that fucking sensation of swimming. It was such an overpowering, consuming feeling that it must have pulled his conscious self from reality and left his body on autopilot. And hadn’t I truly relived that moment, this time? Did I not feel the pain again? Now he gingerly touched his forehead, the spot that had throbbed with a constant ache for seven straight weeks, and even though it had long healed by now, it was flaring up again. It was calm, for now, but he could feel the phantom of its pain that had been revived forcibly through his flashback.

Suddenly, nausea tempted his innards to react. The acidic taste of bile crept into his mouth, and the back of his throat began to burn along with a knot in his stomach that grew tighter and tighter. The road, which until this point hadn’t required much of Adrian’s attention at all, doubled and then tripled. These wiggling asphalt lines were blurring in and out of each other, becoming impossible to drive straight on.

It was too much. Adrian put on the right-turn signal light (a habit yet unforgotten) and pulled off of all three of the roads and onto the gravelly dirt. With the car in park, the idle chug of the engine was deafening. Adrian’s skin grew clammy once more, sweat coated his skin. Air. I need air. And the thought became an impulse.

As if he had been trapped inside of the car for days, Adrian performed a messy combination of maneuvers in his scramble for the sweet smell of fresh air. The seatbelt unhitching and the door opening were executed well enough, but the strength he intended to use in his legs was misplaced and they sloppily lifted over the frame of the car’s door as his left hip roared in response, already aggravated from the long drive spent sitting. The right foot snagged in its corner, and as his body was preparing to lift itself up and out, it instead rolled out and hit heavily onto the ground. The pain from his bullet wound was immediate and intense. His first thought was that someone had stabbed him with an icicle, but then the burning came and numbing cold was replaced with searing hot pressure. Adrian, without bothering yet to pull his leg out of the car fully, yakked out what he had inside of him, which was not much.

The wind had a chill to it now, and a bit of strength. It whipped at his clothing and blew some of his vomit sideways. Clouds had rolled in, thick gray ones that promised rain. They were doing damage to the setting sunlight, but not enough to darken the world just yet. Adrian finished heaving out his innards and with them his anxiety, then wiped his mouth on a dirty sleeve and looked around.

Nothing was familiar. Not even the faintest trace of recognition tickled him, the recollection of driving this highway eight months ago was just words now. Just a part of a story. What am I doing? Where am I going? The wind whistled in reply.

He let his head sink, cradling his neck with the palms of his hands while his ankle still was stuck in the car’s door frame. Vomit was only inches away from his scalp, but Adrian didn't care. A glob of pure irritation plastered, coated and triumphed over any other emotion. This was becoming too much. The structure that society provided, that living in a home you owned and having a job that implied a schedule being included in your life… these were things that Adrian didn't realize at the time, but without them life itself was becoming almost unbearable. Wasn't the monotony comforting? The boredom it provided, safe? Wasn't life better when he could predict what it was? Sure, Adrian could fondly remember being stuck inside the hotel he worked at, wishing for an excuse to leave. Living dangerous and exciting fantasies within the safety of the figurative walls of his mind. Portrayed in the movies, the idea of an apocalypse was always so alluring. Only now, with firsthand experience, could Adrian see it for the sham that it was. Now the lack of routine was boring in its own way, and the lack of structure in society always had him on edge. It was a curious and discomforting feeling, and it was omnipresent.

A sure fist rose up and then pummeled the ground, tiny rocks embedding into the earth and his hand. The shards of stone and loose pebbles and gravel drew blood that dripped onto the dirt to make a small amount of a sticky, muddy solution. The pain was set aside, even that of his grievous gun wound was in a different stream that ran parallel to the one Adrian drifted on. Instead he felt anguish. Pure emotional suffering. This was omnipotent, its power surged in all of his veins. It pumped out reminders of its own existence in the form of fresh waves of agony at every beat of his heart. How can this be happening, how is this... what happened to me?

Adrian was lost in the throes of accepting a bitter defeat. The worst of it might have been that he had already survived the beginning of the apocalypse and endured months of its turmoil and aftermath. Or it might have been that maybe, maybe this could all be bearable if he had a companion. Someone with him to relate with, complain with. To talk to.

Adrian had had his moment to sulk, and it passed. As he lay on the side of the highway, partly still in the car, the foolishness of the scenario came to him. The pain in this ever-throbbing left hip came back to him, too. It burned with a forge’s intensity as the humility spread within him. Rosy cheeks were wiped of their sweat, and Adrian was finally able to free his ankle. Like the roar of the ocean before you arrive upon a beach, the car's engine rumbled with a dull persistence. Without getting in the car, and without doing further damage to his hip Adrian turned the keys and shut the vehicle down. Now the night was silent and growing dark. Though the job was done, his hand still rested on the key. The other was planted around the edge of the roof, suspending his weight. Letting go of the crisp pain that had been brought back to him by the thought of Alyssa wasn’t possible, but he tried. With no success he closed his eyes and thought of anything but his deceased girlfriend. To think of anything else just left a nagging spot in the back of his mind; the echo of the flashback he had just had moments ago still bounced around inside of him, causing chaos with its lingering memory. The longer he closed his eyes, the more that the sickening, daunting sensation of swimming would creep back until, abruptly, he opened his eyes for retreat. Sweat again glazed his skin, soaking through his t-shirt. The first thing he saw was Kevin. For the span of two seconds, he was sure that the animal was dead. But then he saw the shallow dip of his chest, exposing the outline of a rib cage that should be hidden behind thick skin and muscle. And it’s my fault, he thought to himself guiltily. A thought that rung as true as a bell.

He stood upright and looked at the semi-cupped palms of his hands. He had already killed one person with these murderous appendages, and a second living creature might soon be at its end, too, with only Adrian to thank for its sorrowful last few days spent in suffering. How many more would he kill, before he couldn’t take it anymore? The contrast of who he was now in this fucked up after-society life, compared to who he had been just a year ago… it unsettled the foundation of who he was at his core. Even if the world came back together, all of the pieces fitted back into place and civilization creeped out of all of the caves and holes it had been hiding in, Adrian would never be someone right for that world again. He knew that now. I’ve killed someone… yet living today is harder than those days after Alyssa died. Now, it’s like she has died again, along with Douglas. Life with Douglas hating him had been much more tolerable than life without Douglas at all. Adrian realized that he would have spent his life in solitude if it meant escaping this waking hell he walked and slept through. Even if it meant that those that he loved would hate him still. But he could never go back to being that way, even if the opportunity were to present itself. Sure, he had spent most of the year cramped inside of someone else’s home. But even with the comforts of modern civilization at his fingertips, he couldn't help but look through grey-tinted glasses. Dilapidated buildings no longer looked like they just needed a paint job, they looked haunted and decrepit and in need of being torn down.

There was no light at the end of this metaphorical tunnel, one of the many realizations Adrian would make for that day. He was truly lost in the dark, and the universe seemingly expected him to make the best of it. And the notion he perceived chewed at his innards, leaving bubbling spite to brew potently.

The disbelief, the shock, the sheer effort that Adrian had been putting in just to stay alive had gotten him nowhere. Though he fled to the other side of the country, no escape was found. This world was bleak, and that was what Adrian could hope for at best, every morning upon waking up.

The wind was picking up. Fat, puffy white clouds rolled by overhead. The day was losing its glamour and shine, the final curvature of the sun was about to dip below the western horizon. Adrian only grew hotter, bitter red rage refused to cool down even as night claimed life around him. Won't it just lead to another tomorrow?

A fist, the same as before but this one not so sure in its actions, rose up and made a tight ball. Fingertips dug down into his palm. At the pinnacle of his hands uplift, Adrian knew a pang of regret. Despite it, and maybe because Adrian had known too much regret this year, the fist came down with thundering quality. A flesh-covered meteorite struck the hood of the vehicle, leaving a hand sized crater in its wake. The pain was real and immediate, Adrian no longer protected by a numbing layer of anguish. As a dull metallic thunk emitted from the car, Adrian gripped his right wrist with his left hand. The pain was bone deep and shot up to his elbow. With effort and through discomfort he flexed his fingers and self-diagnosed that none of his bones were broken. Even with that good news, his anger only flared higher.

Kevin gave a soft wrelp, barely audible over the wind and Adrian's inner thoughts. As he gathered his attention toward the animal, a simple snap of the neck at the sound it made, Adrian saw Kevin's ear lift up and lower back down, a small and subtle movement but the first that Adrian had seen since he had knocked the rather large creature down.

Adrian's sudden temper was channeled and pushed out, before he knew what he was going to say, Adrian found his mouth opened and was surprised that he was speaking at all.

“This is your fault… this is your FAULT! THIS IS YOUR FAULT! YOUR FAULT! YOUR FAULT YOUR FAULT YOUR FAULT!” his eyes bulged with the ferocity of the emotion packed behind each word. He paused for a breath and continued.

“Why did you attack me? I gave you every goddamned opportunity I could have, to have you NOT attack me, why didn't you back up? You stupid idiot. You idiot dog. This is YOUR fault! You did this to yourself.” the words were flying out, leaving Adrian panting. A vein pressed noticeably against his temple. He began to pace, limping and cradling his throbbing hand.

“Motherfucker… WHY!? Why is this how this HAPPENED!?” the last word reverberated in the open area around him, a bird shook from its roost and left the area of presumed danger. Adrian walked over to Kevin's side of the car and opened the door. A furious snarl opened for an intake of air, his brain was scrabbling for the next tirade of words.

But Adrian couldn't. The words, the momentum, the flare of anger all fell flat.

Adrian stared into the barely opened eye of Kevin. Slowly, it blinked closed and then opened back to the narrow slit it was before. He had chocolate brown irises, and his chest heaved slowly.

“Kevin…?” Adrian murmured. Kevin's ear perked again, just an inch. The single eye he could see flickered to look up at the man who had attacked him.

“...Kevin?” Adrian repeated, moreso to himself, in a low and hushed voice. He was astonished, how was this possible? Wide-open eyes narrowed to skeptical slits, and then back to wide disbelief. Kevin was still looking directly at Adrian, and though his fatigue was obvious, there was an intensity that Adrian met in his stare. They shared a moment, perhaps two, and then Kevin shut his eyes. There was a gentle shift in his breathing; a soft wheeze left the animal's gullet. Soon another one passed as well, the sound was especially silly compared to the scene. To reassure himself, Adrian stroked the creature's backside and felt the slow thump…… thump…… of his little dog heart.

Adrian shut the car door gently, turned and leaned against it. He tilted his head back and pinched the bridge of his nose, blowing out a steady stream of air. If the poor thing lived, Adrian expected a bigger flood of relief than what he was feeling now. After all, he had made the choice to be Kevin’s caregiver not long ago. So, why did the animal’s awakening concern him so heavily?

Perhaps, Adrian contemplated, he hadn’t actually wanted to take responsibility of the animal, but appreciated the dopamine rush that accompanied the thought. But then why would he be feeling any relief at all? No, he was sure that looking after Kevin was a true want, a true desire and not just a self help tactic. He checked on him again, but Kevin was sound asleep. Then he knew, it was the sudden knowing that he would remain responsible for a while longer, when he had not had any responsibilities for so long.

With his head rushing, hand throbbing and the daylight fading, Adrian gazed west to watch the remaining sliver of sun. It was a thin crescent, filling the sky with purples and blues and oranges. Off of the verge of the road was a shallow pool of water spanning four feet in length. It was murky and more brown than clear, but Adrian walked to it. He knelt to the knee on his good leg and dipped his sore and swelling hand in, and found the water pleasantly cool and refreshing. The injury panged as the cold water sent a brief shock through his system. Within three minutes, however, the pain and throbbing had gone down monumentally. Without thinking, he lapped up a double cupped handful and splashed his face.

He spat out random debris from his mouth that had been floating in the water, and then wiped off the remainder of it with his hands. Kevin is alive… Kevin is going to live. Glee was seeping in to eradicate the worry and resentment that he had been feeling. Maybe this was a good thing. After all, now he wasn’t truly traveling alone. He had someone he could talk to, and even though the shouting he had done was now regretted, it had done Adrian some good to get those feelings out. To raise his voice in anger against someone without any repercussion. He would remember not to make a habit out of it.

As the water dripped from his eyelashes, Adrian looked up from his squatting position. He saw the corner of a building that had previously been concealed by hills and tree. Well hello there… the temptation was welling within. The sun was setting, and Adrian needed to find somewhere safe to stay or risk traveling the highway at night, an idea that did not tempt Adrian in the least.

It’s got to be near, I think I can recall a dirt road banking to the right just a short distance back down the highway. But I don’t even know what this building is. The thought didn’t carry much weight, his survival instincts were currently bearing that. It was a chance, at the very least. And if it wasn’t one worth the risk, he was only back where he was right here.

With a lot more energy and optimism than he was used to, Adrian got back behind the wheel of the white hatchback that didn’t belong to him, turned the ignition (while turning off the right-hand blinker that had been on this whole time), and performed a u-turn to begin scoping out the road that could possibly lead him to a safe night’s rest. A prick of homesickness joined him as he thought one more time about the Croteau’s, and the time he had spent there.

---

First it was his hip, the bullet wound. The sitting position only aggravated it, and that was the first thing that began to gnaw at him. Then, it was the fade of adrenaline after seeing a possible salvation, only to have the all too familiar feeling of dread remain. Next, it was the duration of the drive, it gave him time to think. Time for his mind to wander. Last, it was seeing the dirt road up ahead that he only barely recalled. In the moment he was passing it earlier, he was recalling his history with Alyssa and barely registered it.

All of these reasons chewed at his quickly dissolving resolve to go to this building. He knew nothing about it, except that it had one of its corners intact. It could just be a warehouse. Maybe it’s an office building, or a shipping yard for trucks. What in the hell am I doing? What else was there to do? The fact had already crossed his mind. If this building turned out to be a dud, or dangerous, he was only back where he started. Minus both of the drive’s ten minutes worth of gas to get there and back, which was a precious commodity nowadays.

He glanced briefly at the rearview mirror. Then again. Maybe I should turn around. Again, he thought of what Douglas would do. Surely, he’d be in a proper set up. Nothing as makeshift and hazardous as what Adrian was doing. Yes, Adrian could envision his brother finding a house in a hole in the wall, tied off from the cities. Tied off from humanity. Perhaps he’d have found a cabin by a lake, or hiked off into the woods and made a living in some habitable area, if he somehow made it on the radius of the bombs.

Adrian had only ran, and it was his first instinct, too. Safety had appealed to him from getting to a designated zone, but abandoning everything behind… maybe that hadn’t been so much of a reflex, but an impulse. Maybe even a secret desire for an escape from the crushing guilt and the lurking hatred that made up his everyday life.

There were no fresh tire tracks on the dirt, that was the first thing he noticed as he made a left turn across the pavement and took the small bump that accompanied changing roads. It had been a ten minute drive back, and he suspected it would take fifteen, maybe twenty to get back to the stealthily-placed building. Driving fast on a dirt road was a noisy and hazardous idea, and not one Adrian was inclined to pursue.

---

The drive to the building, which coincidentally enough turned out to be a hotel, was uneventful but scenic. The foliage had been abundant, but no wildlife was among it. Adrian had seen little of animals over the past two-thirds of a year. Seagulls, and rats on some voyages for gasoline. Some other birds he didn’t recognize. And Kevin. He had swallowed a gulp and looked in the rearview mirror, but he couldn’t tell if the dog was awake or asleep.

As he pulled up to the hotel, a small and quaint thing with four stories to it, and three windows to a side on its front, the first thing that he noticed was that his was the only car there. Although there was a parking lot with space for forty, there wasn’t another vehicle in sight. The sun had completely dematerialized and with it so had its light. Darkness brought an ominous feeling to the windows which were also devoid of light, as did the emotion flow from the hardwood doors that were shut and in suspiciously good condition, and oddly enough, the flagpole that now flew no flag at all with the hoist lowered to the bottom. The building seemed to scream “vacant” and “occupied” at the same time.

Adrian looked at the clock on the car. It read 6:47 PM. Not late enough in the day to sleep exactly, but not the ample time that he would wish for if he was to go and scout a dark building. One that the existence of he had only known of for thirty minutes. He quickly scoured the car; he rummaged in the glove compartment, rifled under the front seats and also looked all around the back of the car. He had no luck, there was no flashlights in the car.

From this angle, Adrian could see that the building went back several rooms, six, seven or eight maybe. He couldn’t quite see. The hotel that he worked at had been bigger, several stories bigger.

Do I go in… or leave? The thought brought anxiety to the decision making process. Adrian did not want to be on the road at night, something about having that fast black mustang driving around and scouting still gave him a bad feeling. But this building was not guaranteed to be safe. He also had Kevin to think of now.

And his hip. That might of been the final mark in the decision he made. Adrian would not do anymore driving tonight. He turned the car off, and put his hand on the door’s handle. Well… that doesn’t mean that I have to go in just now, either. Instead, he locked the doors and killed the headlights. Something he regretted not thinking of before he pulled into the parking lot. Resigning his night to scouting and resting, he shifted about for his duffel bag and pulled out a supper of dried meat and canned fruit, washed down with a water bottle that he drained in three long swallows. That was how he spent his night, eating and drinking in peace as he kept a watchful eye on the hotel in front of. Without realizing he had fallen asleep, Adrian awoke the next morning as the sun cast light on his closed eyelids.