Zara stirred and stretched her arms above her head groggily, feeling exhausted from her broken sleep. This was how she felt most mornings, unable to get a full night's sleep from lying awake for hours on end thinking about every person she had ever met who is now probably dead. Her heart ached for Zoey, her beautiful, innocent friend with her whole life ahead of her. Zara couldn't save her. Other than a few of her parent's snobby friends, Zara wondered who else was selected in the group of ten thousand. Probably doctors she guessed, scientists, politicians and they would need a leader of sorts. Zara wondered what they were doing right at this moment, probably sipping cocktails and blissfully ignorant of the desolate world outside. Zara never found out where this safe 'haven' was, she remembered her mother mentioning a helicopter trip. They quite often used the helicopter when they went on family holidays, just as a quick way to get to the airport. Her father had a private plane so really the survivors could be anywhere.

''Anywhere as long as it's far from here'' Zara muttered as she rubbed her eyes. She sat up on the sofa where she had slept and felt a sharp throb in her ankle. She pulled back the blanket and glanced down at the bandage which was soaked a dark shade of red. She unravelled the bandage slowly, wincing with every movement. The wound did not look good, a cloudy green liquid seeped from the deep gash down towards her foot and the surrounding skin had turned an angry shade of red. Her heart raced as she realised these were the signs of infection. Zara groaned, an infection without antibiotics could be a death sentence.

Half an hour later Zara sat at the breakfast bar eating porridge, pen in hand, her eyes pouring over the map she had spread out in front of her. It almost seemed like a normal breakfast apart from the porridge being made with water and a map rather than her usual magazine. Her stomach twisted with worry as she searched for the nearest pharmacy. She was so used to Marguerite dealing with any shopping she needed, she had no clue where everyday shops were in London and without the help of google, it seemed impossible to find what she needed without exploring it first. She had cleaned out the wound best she could and smothered it in a small tube of antiseptic she had found in the first aid kit, but it wouldn't be enough to fight infection. The wound had started to give off a smell now, so she needed to get medicine fast.

She looked at the cross she had marked on the map, Kensington High Street, seemed a good option. She had been there shopping many times with Zoey, she hadn't noticed one, but she hoped there would be a pharmacy down one of the side streets. It was about 2 miles from her flat, about 40 minutes' walk but probably an hour with her bad ankle.

Zara checked her watch, it was only seven am so if she set off early she could be back before lunch. She was worried to leave the comfort of the small area she had gotten so used to over the past six months. Although so many were dead, and she hadn't heard another soul in her time there, she had a feeling deep down, nagging at her that there must be others. More people must still be alive, she couldn't be the last survivor in the whole of London. As much as this feeling gave her hope, it also terrified her. She had watched enough apocalypse movies to know that people will do anything to survive and she was confident she would be safer alone. She pondered a while longer, shovelling the now congealed porridge into her mouth.

Zara hoisted the rucksack over one shoulder as she closed the door behind her. She had tried to pack lightly for this trip, to save room for any supplies she would be able to get from the high street but also to avoid putting too much weight on her foot. She had reluctantly taken some painkillers after breakfast, they needed to be used sparingly but the pain was becoming unbearable. She limped along slowly, her map tucked tightly under one arm, down the side streets of Kensington she knew well. She had only ever been driven to the high street, but she knew the rough direction.

She stopped short of her destination, Holland Park. She had spent a lot of time there as a child, spending hours walking around the gardens and woodlands with her mother. Even her father would join them sometimes before his company really took off.

Zara sat on a bench next to the large fountain to rest and have a few sips of the water she had brought along. She stretched her leg out and closed her eyes for a moment, listening to birds and enjoying the last of the September sun warming her back. Reluctantly dragging herself to her feet she continued her way, grateful it wasn't too far now to the pharmacy. She needed to get a dose of the antibiotics into her body, quickly.

The familiar lit up sign, a green cross, loomed ahead of her and she hobbled up the high street. She took a quick look through the window to make sure no one was in there, then pushed open the door. Luckily it had been left unlocked so no breaking the glass this time. She glanced at the full shelves, spotting shampoo, toothpaste, tampons and even some protein bars. She felt excitement flutter in her stomach at so many supplies she could stock up on. She could grab those on the way out, she first rounded the large counter to the back where they kept the prescription medicine. She didn't have a vast knowledge of medicines, but she knew she should look for either Penicillin or Amoxicillin, either would fight the infection. She had her appendix out when she was nine and always remembered the names of the antibiotics prescribed to ward off infection from the surgery. She spotted Penicillin on the top shelf, she took 5 packs figuring they would come in handy for any potential future injuries.

Zara walked back to the front of the shop and started packing the other supplies into her bag. She had just finished putting the protein bars and some vitamin tablets into her bag when she heard a sound which chilled her to the bone. A gunshot.

Authors note

Thankyou for reading and welcome to those who have joined!

Now we know Zara isn't alone! Do you think the shooter is friend or foe?

Next chapter will be up over the weekend!

Below is a picture of one of the fountains in beautiful 'Holland Park' in London