Chapter 15 - Survivors

[13:34:33]

[STATS:

Name: Althea Witt

Age: 25

Level: 2 (250/3000)

Life: 250/300

Spirit: 230/300 (-5%)

Physical: 50 (-5%)

Agility: 47 (-20%)

Defense: 40

Mana: 200

Physical Potential: B

Mental potential: SS+

Skills:

Active: None

Passive: None

Elemental Affinity: Wood, Water, Earth

Titles: None

Overall rank: S

Current Status: Gestating: two life forms, weakened state ]

[WEALTH: 164 gold coins, 2122 silver coins, 4330 copper coins]

Now that her health had recovered, she decided to hit the other houses all the way to the so-called drug lord.

She was amazed by how clearly she could now see the details of the other houses. If she made a noise, she could basically hear even the slightest of the reactive noises nearby, as long as they were outside the house.

She thought that with a few more levels, she should be able to hear inside houses with insulation.

The next house averaged about 7 zombies each and, fortunately, there were no animals or upgraded zombies.

Unfortunately, the loot was also average. The katana was also still the best weapon so far.

There were actually fencing swords but she thought it was flimsy and may not handle the skull of an upgraded zombie.

She was still worrying about her future weapon when she arrived at the next house, just before the alleged drug lord's.

In this house, she noticed something a bit different.

In the other houses, any noise she made attracted zombies not just outside the fence, but also inside it.

For instance, she should be attracting zombies just by opening the gate.

But the gate was already wide open and, even when she made a bit of noise, the yard was still quiet. At first, she just thought the zombies were all inside the house.

She habitually knocked on the door, asking if there was someone there. She was actually a bit noncommittal because she had been to so many houses and no one answered with anything other than a growl.

"Who?" An awkward croak from a male.

She flinched. Surprisingly, there really was someone.

She cleared her throat, a little excited. "Hi, this is Althea Witt from #2 Holmes Street." She paused, pondering. "I'm walking around houses to see if there are survivors."

There was silence on the other end for a while. Althea sighed and gestured to go when she heard a sound from the door.

A small square on the eye-level surface of the door slid to reveal transparent glass.

This was actually a common design in front doors back in the day. This was in contrast to that of her house which had a small peeping hole that small people could barely reach.

From the small opening, she could see an old face filled with wrinkles, his eyes full of vicissitudes, and was looking at her warily.

Althea good-naturedly kept her smile and patiently stood in place, not making any sudden movements.

The old man stared at her, as if figuring out her purpose, and he soon realized she was a pregnant woman and he seemed to relax, but only a little bit.

"What do you want?" He asked, voice small and weak. "We can... share a bit of food but not too much, and only once."

After all, they didn't know how long this tragedy would last.

"Oh, no I don't need food. It's just that I've been to several houses and you were the first survivor I've seen."

The man's eyes widened, a hint of disbelief in his expression. "...How many houses?"

"...almost all the other houses in the subdivision."

"..."

After a beat, the old man finally spoke. 

"How did you deal with those… those monsters?" He then looked closely at her whole body to realize it was full of black blood.

Seeing his dawn of understanding, she nodded. "Well, normal zombies tend to ignore me like this. However, it is useless to Zombie animals and upgraded zombies."

The door finally opened and the man invited her in. "Please… please tell me more."

Althea nodded and entered. She walked gracefully, and one would admire her temperament had she not been covered in zombie innards…

The old man led her to the interior of the house, which was filled with rustic color tones and comfortable furniture.

As she looked around, her lively eyes landed on a little girl half-hiding behind a partition. Only her head was visible, guarded but curious, and ready to hide the moment their eyes met.

She looked about 6 or 7 years old. Very cute.

Althea looked very happy to finally see a survivor, especially a child.

She then turned to the old man who politely asked her to sit down. 

She did do so, but her sights couldn't help but return to the little girl who was revealing her head again, checking her out.

Althea laughed, in a very good mood.

Because, these two… no matter what, they represented something to her:

They represented the hope that she was really not alone in this new, horrible, world.