text: *Time: 2024, one year post outbreak* Back when the outbreak began, Austin was ordered to evacuate, as all major cities were. Almost everyone complied, and those who weren’t were rounded up and forced to by the military. Everyone the government had on record was accounted for and pushed out of the city, whether they wanted to or not; but no one stopped to check to make sure that I, the blind homeless man living in an alley between a hotel and a convenience store, ever complied with the evacuation orders. \_\_\_\_\_ I woke up in my shelter (a former hotel room), and my first feeling was the same one I felt every morning; hunger. So I put my braille copy of *To Kill a Mockingbird* back on my shelf (I had a bad habit of reading myself to sleep)*,* and decided to go check on my traps, hoping I’d caught something to eat. If I was lucky I’d get a racoon or a possum, but if nothing else I was sure there’d be a rat or a pigeon. I grabbed my mobility cane, strapped on my utility belt, and carefully opened the door to my room. I poked my head out, carefully listening to anything that might have been an infected. I hadn’t heard or smelled an infected in weeks, but you could never be too careful. I didn’t hear anything, so I continued walking. Even though I had muscle memorized my way out of the building, I still held onto my wire just in case. I had long set up a series of wires in the building to always lead me back to my room if I got lost. I unlocked the building’s front door, and once again listened for the infected. I heard nothing, so I pressed on. I could tell just by the feeling of heat on my skin that it was daytime, so I knew there’d be less infected wandering the streets. The infected preferred to be out at night, they only wandered during the day if they were really hungry. I learned early on that if I stuck with the same buildings each time, animals would stop falling my traps after like, a week or so. But after a month or so, the wildlife would forget, and I’d be free to set up traps there again. So, I tried to change my locations at least every 3 or 4 days, and not use the same buildings for at least four weeks. Today the start of a new set up. As I was approaching the building (I memorized how many steps it took to get there), I heard the one sound I wanted to hear the least; the low pitched snarl of an infected. And even if I couldn’t hear him, I could definitely smell him approaching. Most infected start to smell after a while, but this one was particularly rancid. From the sound of it, it was alone. I waited for it to get closer, and could still only hear one footstep at a time, so I felt a bit lucky that it was a loner. I drew my revolver, and waited for the infected to get closer. As he did, I isolated the sound of his growling; once I had a lock on his head, I aimed, and pulled the trigger. I then checked to make sure I didn’t miss. I put away my gun and drew my machete, ready to fight it off if it was still alive. It wasn’t; I felt it’s lifeless body with my mobility cane, I knew it was dead. I then continued towards the building where I laid my traps. Once inside, I ran my cane along the wall, checking the snares I laid out. My first three snares were nothing. This was expected, not every single one could be a winner. But as I approached my fourth snare, I smelled something, so I knew I must have caught something. I felt it to take sure it had died; it did. So I put my plastic gloves on, and bent down to feel what it was; it was a racoon. I then put it in a plastic bag, tied it to my belt, and then moved on. While I continued searching, I heard something else walk into the building. Then, I heard the growls, and knew it must have been infected. But it wasn’t just one this time, I could hear at least three growling mouths. And they were getting closer. I couldn’t fight all three at once; there was no way I could isolate their sounds quickly enough to shoot with accuracy, and trying to fight them off with my machete would’ve been hopeless. So instead, I ran. I found a door. I opened it. I then closed it behind me. But this wasn’t going to help me for long; the infected weren’t very smart, but they usually remembered enough of their old lives to do basic tasks like flipping light switches and opening doors. While they stumbled towards the door, I wandered the room more. I found a staircase; this must have been the emergency stairwell. I started walking up, hoping I could lose the infected on another floor. But then, as I was approaching the top floor, I could hear a loud pounding coming from above. Something was stumbling down the steps. I drew my gun, and waited. I could only hear one snarl, so it must have been another loner. Once I isolated his sound, I fired, and could tell just by the sudden *thud* on the ground that I landed another shot. But I didn’t have time to even catch my breath, because the other three infected were coming. I dashed up the steps, hoping to escape them. I got to the next floor, and felt the walls until I found the door. I opened it, dashed past, and slammed it behind me. I then started feeling for a piece of furniture I could use to barricade the door. I didn’t find anything, and I could hear the infected approaching. One of them opened the door, but before any could enter, I threw my entire body weight against it. I could tell something was caught in the door, probably an arm or a leg. While still pressed against the door, I pulled my machete, and started flailing. I must have hit something, because one of them screamed in pain and recoiled. I quickly realized how futile it would be to try to hold them back much longer, so I sheathed my machete, drew my gun, and took a few steps backward. The moment I heard the door swing open, I opened fire. It would have been pointless to try to shoot them back in the lobby, but in a tight doorway where all three would be stumbling over themselves to push past, I knew I’d have to hit something. I fired my four remaining shots as best I could, and then took off running. I had no idea how many I killed, and had no intent of waiting to find out the hard way. The explosive sounds of the gunshots gave me temporary tinnitus. When it wore off, I could hear one set of footsteps and one snarling mouth stumbling after me. I didn’t have time to reload my gun, and could tell by my cane that I reached the end of the hallway and had no idea where else to run. So I drew my machete and got ready for a fight. As the infected got closer, I started flailing my machete. Most infected are smart enough to not run face first into a blade. It would instead circle me, hoping to catch me off guard. I swung at it, but missed, and it grabbed my arm. This was bad, but not the end; it would be if it bit me, but a scratch wouldn’t infect me. It then tried to pull me in close, probably to land a bite, but I quickly slashed it with my machete, and cut its arm clean off. It then howled in pain; that was good, it’s howl let me know exactly what it was. I then raised my machete and threw out one last slash, one that buried my blade in its skull. I then paused and listened for any more infected. I heard none. I reloaded my gun, just to be safe, but still, I heard nothing. With all that madness out of the way, I breathed a sigh of relief, checked to make sure my racoon was still where I left it, and started making my way back out. This was the hardest part of my new life; anytime I lost track of where I am, it’s a struggle to get back to a landmark. But thankfully, all I had to do was follow the hallway to the end and go back down the stairs to end up back in the lobby where I started. I don’t know how long I’m going to make it living day by day in the ruins of my city. But at that moment, all I needed to know was that I was about to have dinner.