Tyler held the butt of his gun to his shoulder, tight, just like he had learned to do. He used his dominant eye, and looked down the sights. Quietly, he tried to hold it steady. He waited, staring at the concrete corner.<br/><br/>The warm summer air carried itself along the overgrown grass, shifting sideways, their tips just catching the light that was mostly blocked by the skyscraper next to it. Always a strange sight, Tyler thought, seeing so much nature in a city. A sight he was getting used to as the days passed. He sat there, waiting with his rifle, looking down the sights, and wondered how long it had been since the black smoke; smoke that covered the sky, and changed people.<br/><br/>He looked up to the sky, not a cloud, and no smoke either. He felt safe, somewhat. He knew at any moment, the sun could disappear, and it would mean he would have to run. He had survived so long by looking up to the sky, only going out in the day, so he could have that early warning system.<br/><br/>He breathed out, and his brown eyes kept looking down the barrel. Finally, his prize walked into view. A beautiful and gentle deer was meandering forward. It looked around but couldn’t see Tyler, hidden by the grass. He breathed in and out a few times, aiming for a quick death, to the head. He squeezed the trigger, and the crack echoed through the valley of buildings. The deer fell down flat. He pulled the gun down, feeling his tender shoulder. He didn’t hold it tight enough.<br/><br/>He walked over to the deer, carefully. It’s eyes looked frightened, and a pit grew in his stomach. He had hit the deer in the head, and it was bleeding out, but not dead. He quickly took out his hunting knife, kneeled next to the creature, and stabbed it into the deer’s throat, cutting until the deer no longer moved. He had put it out of its misery. “Thank you,” he told the deer, placing a hand on it’s head.<br/><br/>A growl emanated from the other side of the deer. Tyler looked up, and saw a golden retriever; it’s hair matted and dull. It was looking at Tyler with its teeth snarled. Tyler slowly raised his body, getting back onto his feet. His hands were held in front of him. “Easy boy,” Tyler told the dog. “Easy.” It kept snarling, and staring at Tyler, and at the deer. “Calm down, let’s share, okay?” he said, taking out his knife. Two more dogs joined the golden retriever, and behind them, three more.  It was a pack of dogs that came together after their owners died. They were all big and tough, and the smaller dogs most likely never had a chance in this world. Tyler slowly backed up, but the dogs began to circle Tyler, all of their teeth growling. He wasn’t sure if this was a show of territory, or they wanted to eat him for dinner as well. Regardless, he wasn’t going to find out.<br/><br/>He ran in the only opening he had. They barked and chased after him. This is why he worked out every day, to run. Running was the only way to survive. His legs burned, but he was okay. He flew down the street, looking back, seeing the dogs coming closer. He had to act fast. He saw a ladder next to a building, and veered for it. But as he came around an abandoned car, there was the golden retriever. He took the barrel of his gun and swung the butt at the dog. It missed, but the dog backed up.<br/><br/>Tyler ran for the ladder and jumped at it. He felt a sharp pain in the back of his ankle from a bite. “Gah!” he screamed, and he threw that same leg back at the dog, hitting it in its face. It whimpered, and he kept climbing. He climbed all the way to the top of the two-story building, and fell over onto his backpack. He took off his rifle and breathed in and out, looking up to the sun. It was still shinning. He was safe for now. He felt the pain of his left Achilles tendon shooting into his calf muscle. He pulled up the pant leg and down his sock. His jeans took most of the bite, but it was still bleeding and painful.<br/><br/>He reached for his backpack, and the bag of medical supplies he carried. He looked for disinfectant, but the bottle was empty. He was meaning to get more, but waited too long. He took a bandage and wrapped it around, the last he had. He needed to resupply, and fast. He looked around, and noticed the building next to him was a pharmacy. He stood up, a bit shaky, and waddled over to the ledge of the building. Luckily there wasn’t really a gap, and he climbed his way to the top of the next one. He took the butt of his gun and broke the lock for the roof door, and opened it.<br/><br/>He slowly walked down the stairs to the first floor. He took out his flashlight, and studied the signs over every aisle. He found the first aid section. He was scanning the near empty shelves for rubbing alcohol, when he heard footsteps.<br/><br/>He raised his gun, his heart beating.