'The Gift Of Immunity, Our Gift To You. - Hayden Pharmaceuticals'

Zara shook her head bitterly as she walked past the familiar sign at a bus stop. Taking the crumpled map and marker pen from her pocket, she marked her position. Looking to her left she spotted her target, a corner supermarket she had picked out the day before as a new location to gather supplies. It looked fairly small, but it would be worth checking out.

She hadn't wandered further than a half mile radius from the small flat she had taken refuge in for the past six months. Food was plentiful in the beginning but now getting a balanced diet was becoming more difficult. When news of the virus was released by the government everyone had panicked, rushing to stock up on food and water, so the supermarkets had been bare then, let alone six months later. The fresh meat and fish had been the first to spoil, it's putrid smell making it difficult for Zara to even walk into a shop. The fresh fruit, vegetables and bread had been next leaving only tinned and packet foods. Zara had since taken quite a liking to carrot soup, hopefully, this shop stocked it, although chances were she would be stuck with mushy peas.

Zara trudged on to the shop entrance, keeping her eyes sharp to her surroundings. The streets had a familiar eerie silence and emptiness. Cars lay empty, although neatly tucked into parking spaces, they had a layer of grime covering them from being untouched for so long. If you looked closely, weeds had started to weave their way up through the cracks in the pavement and birds were circling the bin outside the shop, in search of decaying scraps.

'London will be like a jungle in ten years' Zara muttered to herself.

Inside, she wandered up and down the aisles, carefully tucking items into her rucksack. She packed in batteries, two small bottles of water and a chocolate bar. Zara tried not to be greedy, she knew she potentially had years and years ahead of her, so it made sense to ration now. Her shoulders sagged with relief as she spotted a few cans of tinned vegetables, something she would have protested at eating a year ago but now it was a matter of survival. Within the last few weeks, she had really noticed the change in her body. She had always been very slender with almost a boyish figure for a seventeen-year-old but her bones had become more pronounced than before. Her face had become gaunt and hollow, with a greyish tinge and her blonde curly hair hung lank and lifeless around her shoulders. Lack of food and constant paranoia was starting to take its toll.

Throwing the last few essentials into her bag, she slung it over one shoulder, testing the weight. As she walked back towards the exit, she felt the familiar pang of guilt. Not for taking the food without paying, she had made peace with that a long time ago, but guilt knowing the owners of the shop were upstairs, probably in bed, dead and gone. Zara shuddered, this was the reason she was starving. Plenty of food was available in the cupboards of virtually every house in the area but she just couldn't bring herself to walk into people's homes. It felt wrong and of course, the smell was getting worse every day although her nose seemed to be adjusting to it. Zara knew eventually, probably soon she would have to leave her half mile comfort zone and wander further into London for supplies. This is what scared her the most.

Taking a series of back streets and alleyways, Zara headed back to her flat. Although there was no one around she still felt uncomfortable being out in the open, constantly suspicious she was being watched. She now knew all the paths well, having studied her maps every day looking for new locations to gather food.

Adjusting the, now, heavy bag on her shoulder, she rounded a bend in the path before skidding to a stop, panic rushing through her. A large black and tan dog, a German Shepard stood in front of her. Zara used to love dogs, she'd had three at home, but she knew now that since these animals hadn't had any human interaction for such a long time and due to the shortage in food, she should steer clear. She stood frozen on the spot, unsure of her next move as the dog let out a deep growl, lowering its head and baring its teeth. Zara quickly looked around her, for an escape. A wooden fence to her left seemed her best option, she lunged towards it pulling herself up, struggling with the wet, slippery wood and the weight of her bag. Thinking of the much-needed food, she couldn't afford to leave it behind. She swung one leg over the top of the fence, just as the dog lunged forward. It sank its teeth into her other dangling ankle, almost pulling her trainer off in the process. She cried out, tugging her leg away as she balanced on the top of the fence. She dog gave in and dropped back onto all fours, leaving behind deep gashes to the side of her ankle. Satisfied the dog could not climb over the fence, she pulled her injured leg over and lowered herself down onto the grass the other side.

Gingerly, she put weight on her foot with gritted teeth. It stung a little and the wound was not bleeding too badly, but she was more worried about infection. She bit her lip, unsure of what to do. She looked around the garden she had intruded. Although now a mass of weeds, she could tell it was once cared for and loved. Garden gnomes littered the overgrown grass and a bird table stood abandoned filled with green, slimy looking water. She turned her head to the small bungalow at the end of the garden, she noted the upstairs curtains were pulled shut, no way could she venture inside.

Minutes passed, her eyes pricked with tears as she weighed up her options. Then she spotted a side gate which seemed to go around the side of the house, she staggered over to it and peered over the top. She could no longer see the dog, it had probably gone in search of an easier meal. Sliding back the bolt and pulling open the gate, she limped away from the house, annoyed she had been careless enough to get injured. She would need to properly clean the wound, the nearest pharmacy was at least two miles away, so she could not risk getting an infection. In the early days, she had been foolish and broken a window to a shop in search of water, slicing her hands open in her haste. In the few shops surrounding her flat, a basic first aid kit was all she had been able to find to patch up her wounds.

Zara sighed as she carried on her way back, keeping an eye on the setting sun. She hadn't yet been outside after dark in this new, lonely world and today would not be an exception.

The flat she had chosen to call home was nestled in a small cul-de-sac, about 12 minutes' walk from the corner shop. It was a basement flat, almost obscured from view from the road. She had discovered it shortly after the vaccine was nationally administered, it had recently been renovated and a for sale sign stood outside. After checking it was unoccupied she made a quick decision to call it home. Slightly less luxurious than she had been used to, it was still upmarket, as most apartments usually were in Kensington. It had been left furnished, labels still on most of the expensive upholstery, not that luxury made the slightest bit of difference now. It had only one way in and out, the front door which you couldn't see until you walked down the small flight of stairs, hidden by thick metal railings. 

Zara walked down the steps and through the front door, kicking it shut behind her and sliding across the 3 bolts she had fastened herself from the DIY shop she had discovered a few streets down. She walked through to the kitchen, unpacking the rucksack contents into the sleek white cupboards and putting the batteries into the drawer she kept her torch in. Feeling satisfied now her food stores were replenished once more she wandered through to the bathroom, reaching into the medicine cabinet for the first aid kit. Using the bottle of water, she kept in the bathroom for brushing her teeth, she cleaned out the wound over the bath before inspecting the biggest deep gash. Satisfied it wouldn't need stitching, she took a bandage out of its wrapper and began to wind it slowly around her ankle wincing slightly as the material pressed against the open wound.

After rinsing out the bath, being careful to use the bottled water sparingly, she wandered back into the kitchen glancing over at the door to double check the door it was properly locked. Pulling a plate from one of the cupboards above the sink, she poured out a tin of carrots and added some cold pasta from the fridge she had cooked before on a little camp stove she had found in a camping store. Grabbing a fork, she headed through the arch to the open plan living room.

Fumbling in her bag for her box of matches, she lit a small candle on the oak coffee table. Matches were another thing she was running dangerously low on. Unfortunately, they were something she relied on using every day as there had been no power since the day after mandatory vaccinations. It was as if someone, somewhere, had just turned off the switch. No electric, no gas, no running water, it was only September, but Zara already had fears about surviving the cold of winter. She sat down on the black leather sofa to eat her evening meal, she sighed and laughed bitterly. Six months ago, her only fear had been failing her exams.

Author's note

Thankyou for taking the time to read The Gift Of Immunity, I hope you enjoy it!

Please do feel free to comment as you read to let me know what you think as the story progresses. This is the first novel I have attempted to write, so advice and critique is most welcome!