Isaac led the way into their target building via the fire escape on the south side. He entered through a broken window on the third floor, which led into the kitchen. Isaac glanced around the room to evaluate the number of cupboards before sending James to the bedroom to search for new clothes. A little squeak from the floorboards in the corridor told Isaac that James had listened to his instruction. The number of dirty cupboards was limited by the small size of the room. Each revealed a new museum piece - kitchen equipment, crockery and various bits and bobs of old-fashioned home life. Only two cupboards appeared to be allocated to food. However, Isaac was disappointed with what he found within: dust bunnies and a pile of bread mould that had burst from its original paper packaging.  

 

Isaac sighed but quickly moved on. He passed by the fridge-freezer and paused only for a few seconds to check that it was not one of those fancy self-powering ones. No? Then he was not opening it. The smell alone would be toxic. He continued into the corridor. A floorboard squeaked as he approached the first bedroom. James' head was buried in a wardrobe full of clothes, pulling out a shirt which was hopefully a practical joke – bright blue with brown and green palm trees printed on it. Isaac shook his head, already thinking of ways to destroy the shirt if it appeared in their clothes box.

​

Confident that his brother was doing as he asked, Isaac turned back and went to the living room, stepping aside to avoid the squeaky floorboard. The living room was sparsely furnished with only a two-seat sofa facing an empty television stand and one large cabinet along the back wall. The room was cold and draughty. The window had been broken, most likely by the large rock on the ground. Isaac was almost impressed that someone could throw such a large rock up so high but he sighed as he looked at the destruction. He was sure that there would be nothing in there for them. The room had been looted, which also explained the lack of food in the kitchen. Somebody had been here before them. However, he would give the room the same inspection as any other flat for any supplies the looters might have left behind. Who knew when it had been looted and what their priorities were? The missing television suggested that it was a long time ago. Nobody has the time or the power for a television these days. He stepped inside, closing the door gently so it did not slam in the wind from the broken window. The dark room was lit only by the moonlight shining through the window. Shadows hid the corners in darkness, and Isaac had to double-check that nobody was hidden within them.

 

The floor was sprinkled with glass, so Isaac took great care to manoeuvre around it, placing his feet in glass-free spots to avoid the inevitable loud cracking sound. He began searching the large cabinet, opening the drawers slowly and gently searching through the items inside. He eyed the collection of batteries until he looked at the power gauge on the side and saw that they were all empty of power. Old batteries then. 

 

There was a squeak from the corridor, and the living room door swung forcefully open, crashing against the wall. Isaac glared over at James. 

 

“What are you doing?!” Isaac hissed.

 

“The door was closed,” James replied with an unworried shoulder shrug.

 

Isaac opened his mouth to retort but instead took a deep breath and gripped the bridge of his nose with one hand. The noise had been made. The damage had been done. No amount of chastising would change that.

 

“Just look in the drawers on the stand,” Isaac instructed, waving over to the television stand and turning back to the drawers on the large cupboard. 

 

James rolled his eyes but accepted the instruction without complaint. However, as he stepped towards the television stand, his foot landed on a weakened shard of glass that cracked loudly. James winced and glanced at Isaac, who glared in his direction, huffing through his nose. 

 

“Sorry,” James mumbled. 

 

“James, you need to be-” Isaac's hissed reprimand was interrupted by a familiar squeak. 

 

Isaac glanced between the open door and James. They were both inside. How could either of them make that noise? They could not. They were not alone. Isaac leapt forward, grabbing James' shirt and pulling them both into the corner behind the door. He pressed himself against the wall, hidden in the shadows, and pulled James closer, holding him tightly.

 

A growl pierced through the silence, and heavy footsteps in a recognisable pattern of four followed. The sound made Isaac's palms sweat and his chest pound. He recognised it. He had encountered it before, long before he started bringing James scavenging. 

 

The boys could see the outline of the heart-stopping creature through the tiny crack between the door and door frame. It had a hefty oval body and a round head with a large threatening horn on either side. It growled menacingly as it crept towards the open door of the living room. Its nose sniffed the air, scenting the room from the doorway. It huffed and growled again, and Isaac cursed the open window blowing their scent in its direction.

 

James and Isaac stood frozen. Their minds were repeating a constant cry of 'DANGER’. They held their breath, and both wished they could quieten their heartbeat. Their hearts felt like they were about to beat their way out of their chests. Blood rushed to their ears with each loud ba bump, ba bump, ba bump.  

 

The beast sniffed loudly, its paw breaching the threshold of the door. Isaac's eyes closed in dread, his silent pleas for the beast to leave going unanswered. James could feel his hands shaking as the beast took another step forward, but he also felt a wave of energy flow through his body. His muscles tensed and relaxed before tightening once again. He was ready to move, to run, to fight. 

 

But the beast gave one last huff before its shadow moved on. 

 

James' shoulders slumped, his body still prepared for a fight. His eyes traced the lumbering creature as it prowled back down the corridor, the floorboard squeaking under its foot. Isaac let out a sigh of relief and a silent thank you to whoever was watching over them. James shifted, but Isaac tightened his grip on his younger brother's shirt. He pressed against the wall, awaiting a sign that the beast had left the flat. A stray thought edged into Isaac's mind. How did the beast get in? The front door was closed, and they would have heard it open. Perhaps it entered through the window? But the beasts can’t climb!

 

James used Isaac's temporary distraction to pull himself free from Isaac's grip and step out of the shadowy corner. James tugged his shirt back into place before he glared at Isaac. “Tug a bit harder next time, why don't'cha. I don't think you ripped the seam.”

​

Isaac rolled his eyes, his previous thoughts banished to the back of his mind in favour of dealing with his brother. “You're welcome, by the way.”

​

“For what? I could have handled it,” James retorted. 

​

“Suuure. Of course, you could,” Isaac drawled sarcastically, flashing a grin at his brother. “Come on, let's go home. This place has been picked clean.”

​

James grumbled under his breath but nodded and exited the room. Isaac gave the room one last glance over before following. However, he was only able to take one step before he bumped into the back of his brother. James stood frozen in the corridor. Isaac frowned and was about to ask James why he had stopped when a growl answered the question. Isaac peaked over his brother's shoulder and saw that the beast had not left. His previous thoughts returned to him. How had the beast gotten in? It had not gotten in. Not while they were there. The door was locked, and the beast was too big to slip through the broken window. It had already been inside the flat when James and Isaac arrived. It was trapped inside, and it never left.

​

“Go to the kitchen,” Isaac hissed to James as he used James' body to conceal his movement. He reached back and pulled his trusted baseball bat from its secure holder on the back of his backpack. He gripped it tightly. James sprinted through the door to the kitchen. The beast leapt forward, but Isaac tensed his shoulders and swung his bat. The beast's face snapped to the side from the hit. Isaac hurried after James and slammed the kitchen door shut.

​

“James, come and hold this,” Isaac yelled, pushing his back against the door. The door banged as the beast bashed into it.

​

James did, freeing Isaac to go to the fridge freezer. Isaac pressed his body weight against one side and pushed it, scraping the bottom along the laminate flooring. “James, watch out!”

​

The fridge-freezer toppled to the floor in front of the door, James leaping out of the way at the last moment. The door to the fridge flung open at the impact, and the stench of rotten dairy and vegetables filled the air. A jar of red sauce smashed on the floor, throwing red sauce throughout the room. Isaac felt a long string of red sauce hit the right side of his neck, and a giant glob covered his right arm. He gasped from the cold and gross feeling. The door banged again as the beast tried to get in, but the fridge was heavy enough to keep the door from opening. 

​

“Fire escape! Quickly,” Isaac called, pushing James in the direction of the window. He wiped his arm and neck clean on the kitchen towel before following his brother. They both climbed out of the window, landing on the metal grate of the fire escape with a clang. Isaac pushed James to keep going, and they climbed down the ladder till they reached the concrete ground beneath. Both paused at the bottom, looking back up at the flat window. The angry roar of the beast echoed down to them.

​

“That was close,” Isaac commented with a relieved breath. “Let's uh... let's not do that again. Yeah?”

​

The area around the building was filled with decrepit and abandoned apartment blocks. The cracked and pothole-filled road between them was bare of life. No moving vehicles, no cyclists and no pedestrians. Cars were left to rust, some abandoned in the middle of the road with their doors wide open. In some areas, the concrete ground had cracked harshly, protruding previously buried stones and metal poles up in the air. The road's destruction was matched only by the crumbling wreckage of some of the less stable and cheaply made apartment buildings. Piles of rubble lay untouched, weeds and vines claiming the mounds as their own. Weeds, mould, and vines covered almost all the abandoned buildings and cars. They covered the dull, lifeless browns, creams and greys of the concrete road and buildings and introduced a blanket of green. The once pristine concrete jungle was becoming a grassland. In patches of weathered and worn pathways, used almost exclusively by the brothers, the blanket of green gave way to the dull colours underneath it. Trees flourished, but the trunks showed significant damage from slashes and bullet holes, leaving a hint of the chaos that had once erupted on these streets.

​

As the brothers continued to walk, the trees and greenery started to wane as the air became thicker with a lingering smell of smoke. They were approaching what was once the industrial sector of the city. The factories and warehouses had closed long ago, but the smoky air remained thick and murky. The light concrete buildings would have reflected any light given by the moon, but the hazy air prevented most from getting through. The large industrial buildings all had some form of damage, from giant cracks in the plaster to a collapsed wall; one had even collapsed completely, lying in a jagged and convoluted pile of rubble.

​

The brothers reached a metal fire escape to one of the only stable apartment buildings in the area. James moved to climb up, but Isaac pulled him back with an admonishing glare. James rolled his eyes and motioned for Isaac to go ahead. Isaac climbed to the third floor and stepped off the ladder onto the metal grating with a light clang. He approached a window covered with a single layer of newspaper with one little peephole cut out. Seeing nothing through the peephole, Isaac carefully began sliding the heavy wooden window upwards. The window creaked in protest but opened just enough for Isaac to slip inside. James followed closely behind. He closed the window behind him, and it slammed as it hit the windowsill. Isaac tensed at the noise but did not turn to face James, nor did he say anything in admonishment. They were reasonably safe in this area, but it did not mean they could be any louder in the safety of their little hidey hole than anywhere else.

 

James rolled down the fabric they used to cover the window, removing all light from the room until Isaac lit a fire in the fireplace. The light flickered with the movement of the fire, casting long shadows from the furniture around the room. There were two cardboard boxes inside which Isaac and James kept their wearable clothing. Two sleeping bags were placed on the floor in front of the fireplace, and one large bottle of water was placed nearby. The door to the room was kept firmly closed and barricaded. All the heavy furniture, such as the kitchen table, a once-loved lounge chair and a wooden cabinet, were piled against it. Plates and dishes, broken and unbroken, were spread across the table and had started to gather dust from lack of use. The cutlery had been placed haphazardly amongst them, only slightly cleaner from the occasional use the brothers gave them.

​

The room was a treasure trove of items. However, the only thing that truly belonged to the brothers was a single polaroid photograph of a happy family pinned to the wall. The photo’s focus was a mother and father, with a young boy sitting in the father's lap and a baby in the mother’s arms. The photograph was taken in the corner of the room in which it was pinned. A discarded polaroid camera lay beneath it, empty of the chemicals needed to produce more photographs.

 

James and Isaac both opened and emptied their scavenging bags. They had collected a few cans of food and several sets of clothes. The clothes were separated into two and thrown over into the cardboard boxes. Isaac was happy that the atrocious palm tree shirt was not amongst them. One of the shirts missed the box, but neither boy moved to pick it up.

​

“A fair haul today,” Isaac declared happily as he looked over the supplies that they had gathered.

​

“Yeah. It's okay.” James shrugged one shoulder. “We could have twice as much if you'd let me start searching independently. We could cover an area twice the size.”

​

Isaac let out a long-suffering sigh. “James-”

​

“I can do it. I'd be fine.”

​

“No. You'd be zavera bait in the first ten minutes. You attract them like bees to a pot of honey.”

​

“I do not,” James grumbled, annoyed. “And bees aren't attracted to honey. They make it.”

​

Isaac laughed in false amusement and shook his head. “You're too loud. You run into things without thinking. You'll just get yourself killed. Or I'd get killed coming to save you.”

​

James grumbled, glaring at the ground. He would return to the topic later, just as he had twenty-seven times previously. An opened can of food appeared in his eye line. He glanced up to see Isaac offering him the food. A Swiss knife was in Isaac's other hand from using it to pry open the can. James took the can, neglecting to say thank you in his annoyance. He glanced inside and saw the familiar light red sauce that often came with baked beans. James looked over to see Isaac opening a can of vegetables for himself.

​

James sighed and quietly said, “thanks.”

​

Isaac nodded towards him. “Eat up. Long day ahead.”

​

James grabbed one of the discarded forks to eat with and grumbled, “it's always a long day ahead.”