Ryan still had one option left for resources. He forced the back of his brain to come up with one last idea before he’d potentially starve to death. At this point, he just wanted to survive. Getting a signal would have to wait. He had no way of contacting anyone or hoping to find another lost human like him.

  Right by where the bus station used to be, there was a map stand that highlighted parts of the city. In the heart of the town, the closest area to where he was in was a big restaurant, filled with loads of food supplies and drinks, no doubt. Just thinking about it made his stomach rumble. He clutched it and shut his eyes tight; it hurt, but if he could use it as motivation to keep going, so be it.

  Ryan did his best to keep it together, at least get to the restaurant, before passing out from exhaustion. He memorized the route pattern before heading out, using his system's last bit of energy to keep pressing forward. Other than staying alive for this long, the day hadn't been going well for him. If he could find replenishments and a hiding place, that'd be an accomplishment in his eyes. That was all that mattered to him right now.

  The moans from the zombies were just empty noise in the background. He had no idea if they were near him or far away, but he didn't care. Ryan had made up his mind a while ago. He didn't have time to panic or scream. That would make the situation worse and deplete more of his energy. Up ahead, in the distance, he found the district that had the restaurant in tow. The sign out front was in disarray, with the rest of the letter jumbled and blurred into one big, ugly mess. The neon lights on top didn't work either, as most letters fell off and were missing. Ryan had been there before, but couldn't remember its name off the top of his head. His memory of it grew hazy.

  He glanced and noticed a white truck parked just outside the restaurant. Amidst all the car wreckages around them, it was the only vehicle still in good condition and parked correctly, too. Ryan limped to the back of the truck and slumped off its sides. As he tried to clear his head, he looked around for incoming zombies. There weren’t many, and the ones outside were sparse, nowhere near him. For the first time in a while, he breathed a sigh of relief. Then again, Ryan may have done it too soon since he didn’t know about the conditions in the building or the truck.

  Ryan crawled low to inspect the windows; two shadows emerged behind them. The glass didn’t look like the kind one would see through, so he didn’t know who or what was on the other side. Either the glass was old and rusty, or his eyesight had worsened. He pressed his ear against the wall and could only make out muffled sounds. What they were saying was that he didn’t have a clue. Ryan shook his head. He didn’t have time to think about this and sure didn’t want to risk opening the door, only to be greeted with more of those monsters.

  The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  Ryan circled around the backside of the vehicle, making sure not to be seen by anyone or anything, before sneaking over to the building. He stopped at the entrance and peeked through the windows. There were still quite a number of them in there, but none that appeared hostile or near the entrance.

  He swallowed the lump in his throat, which was also getting dry. With a shaking hand, he reached for the handlebars and pushed open the doors.

  The bell above the door chimed as Ryan stepped inside. His heart dropped as he froze in place for a moment. Fortunately, none of the zombies took any interest in the sudden sound. Ryan composed himself as he crept around the place.

  The restaurant had two floors, both having a country vibe to them. It had brown wooden floors and tables. They would’ve looked polished without the blood, drool, and smudges all across them. To his left was a stage carrying a microphone and a lone chair. To his right was a bar counter with stools and drink canisters in the back. It could’ve been an inviting place if given different circumstances. Ryan regretted not checking it out sooner.

  He did his best to keep his cool and press onward. The storage room had to be around here somewhere. Beads of sweat rolled down the back of his neck as he felt their presence looming over him. Watching. He could see the details on them now that he was closer and less shocked than before.

  Half of their flesh was either burnt, melted, or torn off. Their eyes pulled out of their sockets or pulled so far back that one could see all white, with red lines clawing out from the bottom. The smell of rotten flesh lingered in the air. Their teeth were rotten and decayed, breath that could linger in the air and make someone pass out. Ryan’s face grew pale as he covered his mouth, resisting the urge to vomit on the spot. The last thing he wanted was to leave himself wide open with no stamina left to boot.

  He made his way up the creaking steps and headed to the second floor. For the most part, it looked to be about the same as the first floor. A couple of broken TVs hung in the air. Some weren’t so lucky, and just hit the ground.

  In the center of the second floor was an outer ring, with a railway connected to the outskirts of it. Ryan steadied himself by grabbing onto the rail. It wasn’t as sturdy as it looked. In fact, there was a chance it could wobble off and hit the ground down below. Shaking, he peeked down, watching the view from above, and trying to find an exit if things went awry. It didn’t go as well as he had hoped, as his vision was still blurry, nearly giving out.

  Ryan let go of the rails and spun around, everything closing in on him. Then something caught his eye. He stopped and stared dead center at the silver metallic doors. That was it, he thought. It had to be the kitchen area. Ryan smacked his cheeks to force himself awake a little longer and hurried over to the doors, nearly stumbling along the way.