Alex White took the piece of paper.
Dora Lin remarked, "This wasn't here the last time I came down this road. It must've happened in the past couple of weeks since we brought you back."
"'Dragged back,'" Alex White corrected while skimming the note.
"Oh."
Dora Lin nodded.
Alex White hesitated, then lifted his head slowly, stared for a moment, and shook the paper slightly. "I knew it. There had to be a survivor settlement somewhere."
The note read: There's food, shelter, and a community here. If you're reading this, remember, you're not alone. Many others are fighting to survive just like you. If survival becomes too difficult, you can come here.
An address followed the message.
It was clearly intended for survivors scattered in the area, whether scavengers passing through the city or those who had been living nearby.
Turning the paper over, Alex White found a roughly sketched map marking the location.
"How far is Riverton?" Alex White asked.
"I'm not sure… it looks like…" Dora Lin examined the crude map for a moment. "Almost in the next city."
"That far?" Alex White said, surprised.
"Not too far. If it were any closer, we'd have noticed it already," Dora Lin replied. "If I hadn't taken you away that day, you might've run into them."
"That's not necessarily a good thing." Alex White flicked the paper. "You don't seem interested?"
Dora Lin responded, "It says, If survival becomes too difficult, you can come. But I'm not struggling to survive."
"You could just say you don't believe it," Alex White guessed, noting her disinterest in the idea of joining a group. "Have you seen this before?"
"A few times. The address changes every time. There was one close to Chico once, and they also promised survival together. But after observing from a distance, it became clear they were only after labor and women."
"And what happened to them?"
"They eventually vanished. Groups like that tend to collapse," Dora Lin explained. "If you weren't infected, it might be worth checking out." She glanced at the paper and pondered, "For them to come this far, they might be different."
"But I am infected," Alex White said.
"That's a shame," Dora Lin responded.
"It's a bit concerning that they've come all this way," Alex White remarked. "If their settlement was really thriving, they'd naturally attract survivors over time. They wouldn't need to actively search; people would find their way there on their own."
"Maybe," Dora Lin didn't contest his point. Her main worry was whether they'd run into strangers.
"My mother always said, as long as you can survive on your own, never join a group—unless there's real order."
For a young woman, following a message like this blindly was a reckless gamble.
They continued toward the city center, occasionally passing some long-dead skeletons along the road. Dora Lin mentioned these were from a long time ago, back when it was still dangerous—likely people who had been infected or killed by animals.
The closer they got to the city center, the more skyscrapers there were. The streets widened, but the silence remained oppressive.
Alex White noticed a distinct difference between the city zombies and those in the wild.
Though they were all old, the city's buildings provided some protection. Even without a shred of reason, the zombies avoided much of the harsh weather as they roamed. Some were even trapped inside buildings, appearing noticeably more preserved than those in the wild; at least their clothes weren't in tatters. He even spotted one pale, emaciated zombie stuck in a building.
"Are the ones trapped in the city tougher than the ones outside?" Alex White didn't bother releasing it to test his theory, opting to avoid unnecessary trouble.
"Somewhat. At least they decay slower than the ones out in the wild. The wild zombies are battered by the elements, and even when they collapse and can't get up, they still hang on for a long time," Dora Lin explained.
"Looks like even zombies need a house in the city," Alex White quipped, eyeing the pale, gaunt zombie once more.
How many people had lived in this city? Alex White couldn't say, but even if only ten percent were infected when the disaster struck, that would still be a staggering number.
Fortunately, they were all old now, decaying in waves, having been cleared out time and again by scavengers over the years.
In the early days of the outbreak, the city must have been a death trap.
Even now, as they neared the heart of the city, Dora Lin grew increasingly cautious, no longer as relaxed as when they first entered.
Skeletons littered the streets, indistinguishable between human and zombie remains—there was no telling the difference once they'd decayed to bare bones.
The city had ceased to function long ago. Even if every zombie disappeared, it would be near impossible to breathe life back into it without a substantial population. The crumbling city had ultimately become nothing more than a desolate wasteland.
"We're not lost, are we?" Alex White asked, his exhaustion growing. He knocked down approaching zombies with a stick, breaking their necks. His pace slowed, and it was difficult to regain momentum.
The further they ventured, the more zombies they encountered. They appeared in small groups of three or five, occasionally emerging from the houses that lined the streets.
On the quiet streets, the noise of the tricycle easily attracted zombies, but thankfully, they moved slowly. These old creatures were operating purely on the instincts that had taken hold when they were first infected, moving at a pace similar to that of elderly women in a nursing home.
"That means we're on the right track," Dora Lin observed, looking into the distance and then back at the tricycle. She wondered whether they should stash it nearby, as its noise could easily attract zombies in the empty streets.
"Let's hide the vehicle over there for now and scout ahead," she decided. She pulled a bundle of rope and a few tools from the tricycle, handing them to Alex White, and temporarily stashed the vehicle inside a nearby shop.
In recent years, only a few scavengers had dared to venture into the city center, which was still far from being as thoroughly cleared as the outskirts.
The city, overrun by weeds, had zombie corpses strewn across the streets. Some scavengers had cleared the roads a few days ago, so even though zombies remained, the journey had been much easier than Dora Lin had anticipated.
As they neared the central square, the vast plaza seemed vaguely familiar—like the photos her family had left behind. Squinting, she managed to make out the statue of a woman standing in the center.
The statue depicted a woman holding an urn. In the photos, the statue had been surrounded by bright lights, with water flowing from the urn and people everywhere. Even at night, the square had been alive with people walking, resting, and dancing.
It was Dora Lin's first time here, and now the square looked nothing like it did in the photographs, apart from the woman's statue. The surrounding area was overgrown with tall, thick weeds. Years of exposure to the elements, with no one to maintain it, had left the square looking old and dilapidated.
"It was beautiful once. I've seen pictures," Dora Lin said softly. Those photos were her only glimpse into what the city used to be.
Alex White paused, leaning on his stick as he looked up at the statue, now bathed in the warm orange light of the setting sun.
"Maybe it'll stand for another twenty years," Dora Lin mused aloud.
"Or perhaps even forty," Alex White added.
That is, if no one tears it down.
Twenty years can be fleeting or eternal. The zombies that once expelled humanity from the city have decayed into nothingness over the course of two decades.
But the skyscrapers still remain, towering over the ruins.