Effive

Finster spent the rest of the morning wandering though the streets, looking for someone, any living person. He remembered how those religious fanatics used to go around talking about how they would all disappear someday, and there would be car wreaks, and chaos everywhere. This wasn't like that at all. It was just that everybody was dead.

Everybody but him. It must have been that sickness, some kind of an epidemic or something. But why was he still here? And was there anyone else?

Well, at least he wouldn't starve. There was plenty of food in the stores. Some had been broken into, but not much was missing other then liquor and cigarettes. It was funny what people thought was important, even when they were about to die. Finster helped himself to some canned goods and put them in a bag. He was sure they would be OK to eat. The meat didn't look too good, and the produce was wilted.

He made his way back to the apartment. He tried the gas stove, and was not surprised to find there was no gas. Then, he thought to try the water. It worked. Strange, he thought, and wondered if anyone was down at the plant. Then he remembered Mr. Porter. But now he was not sure if any of that had actually taken place. It was so bizarre. What would Mr. Porter be doing in his apartment, and what was this "plan" they were talking about. He must have been delirious.

He tried his cellphone again, but there was no signal. The land line was still dead. All the utilities were out, except the water. He worked for the water department. He knew there was a backup generating system. But who was running it ?

He was eating cold beans from a can, when he decided he would have to check the water plant. There had to be someone there. And besides, he wasn't sure he wanted to spend another night in the apartment with dead bodies in the next room. In fact the whole building was full of them.