On a second day of their drive, Eve and Victor passed through a city. Without zombies to shamble on its streets it looked even deader than before, a true ghost of its former glory. The only movements belonged to the animals that called the landscape their home and the garbage that wind played with.
A desolate, depressing sight, but the lack of zombies meant that Eve's anti-virus worked as intended, and it brought her hope, so she made several photos of that, too. Still, she drove closer to the edge of the city, where fewer corpses blocked the road and more sickly greenery greeted the travellers.
When the night came, Victor and Eve stopped in an abandoned cottage in the countryside. It was a house that would've fit on postcards: two-storey tall, with a big yard overgrown with tough weeds, a small pool (long since dried up), blue walls covered in white drips from acid rains and cracked, but bright red roof tiles.
