The city of Pittsburgh turned out to be more favourable than he had thought it to be. Even twenty years after the end of the world, supplies were still abundant, either that or people were shit at finding things. Though it still surprised Y/N every time he would find a can of food still edible after all this time.

'Thank god for canneries... I think that's what they called them.'

Being born four years after the world went to shit was... something. Imagine not having a clue what anything was before. Sometime back in the quarantine zone he had questioned what a phone was, it baffled him that they could be used for long distance communications, or texts, whatever they meant by that.

It was hard enough for adults, trying to survive in this world, but kids? Even harder. Being on your own doesn't help either, though Y/N preferred it than having to rely on strangers.

You couldn't fully trust them, but you know what you could? Instincts and your gut. That's what Y/N trusted most if not all the time. If he saw something he didn't like, he knew not to go through with it. See some people on the road, had a bad feeling and he would go around them, avoid them at all costs.

Eventually after being alone for a little over three years, he grew into the mentality of staying on his own. Not having to depend on anyone or them in return. A very small part of him wished he had someone to talk to at least though, there was only so much he could do to keep himself sane, either talking to himself or talking to... other things.

His drawings helped. Yes, he drew. No harm in it. It was a habit, a hobby he picked up when he was back in the quarantine zone with his parents. Of course it wasn't mandatory, especially not in military school but nobody cared.

And he was quite good at it too, it made him feel... normal? Yes, normal in a not so normal world. He drew people, buildings too, objects to landscapes. He actually managed to draw the statue of liberty once, even though the statue itself was a ruin yet still standing after all this time.

Much like himself.

Y/N took a deep breath and closed his eyes tight. He was currently in an old convenience store. The building was in okay standard, boarded up windows and doors barricaded. He had slept, or tried to, he didn't sleep much these days, inside the night before and was now laid against the back wall, his drawing pad in hand and a pencil in the other. He had quite the collection of pencils, since they were in high demand... for him anyway.

One particular picture he was trying to draw, was Pittsburgh itself. He got a good view of it the day before, the sun rising and all. It was magnificent to him. He had never seen anything like it.

Y/N opened his eyes again and looked down at his drawing pad, it's pages faded with time but still usable. He was only about half way done with it, skyscrapers and other buildings were done and the environment, no matter how overgrown it was, was complete. But it just needed some shading left to add. He spent the morning doing so, but stopped after awhile, the straining in his hand becoming unbearable.

The sixteen year old sighed and turned to his right; grabbed his beige coloured rucksack, and placed all of his items inside, zipping it up when he was done. He took another deep breath again and lifted his head up, looking over the interior. It was barren except the fortifications, shelves were toppled over and shopping carts stood aimlessly.

The place was now empty, before when he had arrived he had found an energy bar and even some extra ammo for his gun.

A semi-automatic pistol. Still in pristine condition but warranted some cleaning, he didn't want it jamming on him later.

He unholstered the gun at his right thigh holster and pulled the chamber back to reveal a bullet, he let it slide forward and click sound followed, he placed it back where it belonged before getting up.

His ass was more than sore from sleeping on the freaking ground; it was doable, but he didn't have to like it. He groaned, either out of frustration or the annoying pain he was going to regret after.

Y/N bent down and grabbed his bag, hoisting it up and over his back, making sure it was confined safely between him, it wouldn't do him any good to lose it. After securing it, he walked past the down shelves and into a small room ahead of him, the males toilets to be precise.

It could only hold one person, yes it that small. He walked in and released his morning bladder, when done he looked up at the cracked mirror in the room. It looked as though someone had punched it in frustration but still he could see himself clearly.

'Damn...'

Stop what you're thinking. He's not ugly, but not Tom Cruise style attractive either. He was a normal sixteen year old, minus the haircut that was needed. But his hair was short, just a bit uneven and unkept. His skin was more than fine, maybe a little rough from the hard weathers and daily dirt and grim life. (He badly needed a shower) Y/N blinked, staring himself down.

He had grown quite a lot in the last two years, both physical and mentally. He stood at about an average height, like most sixteen year olds his age... not that he had seen anyone his age in a long time. His clothes were a bit worse for wear but they fitted him well. Ripped blue jeans, a pair of black style combat boots, a plain white t-shirt and a beige jacket, much like his backpack.

He sighed, tearing his gaze away from the mirror and exiting through the toilets, pushing the door open gently. He walked out into the room, the door closing behind him with a thud.

'Well no point staying around here.'

To him, it wasn't worth staying in one place for too long. Too many things could go wrong, for one, he could get too comfortable and that would end up getting him killed in the process.

Y/N shrugged his shoulders as he checked around the store one last time for anything of value but found nothing. With a huff, Y/N walked up to the back door of the store and kneeled down at the base of the metal door.

He had placed a sort of an alarm trap down the night before, nothing special, a few strings and an empty peach can. He untied the trap and disassembled it, and placed whatever scrap or items were left, in his bag.

'Here we go...'

He braced himself, his right hand reaching out and gripping the door handle tightly, with another breath, he unlocked the door and pulled it open to reveal a ring of sunlight bearing down on him. It was practically blinding to him after having slept in a dark store with no natural light.

The surrounding area was quite sparse, some lone buildings and shacks here and there but nothing of value. Y/N again went up to the roof of the store and looked across the river, the real loot would be over there. But it'd be more dangerous than here, he hadn't encountered any infection when clearing this place, which lucky.

His eyes trailed over to the left, and he spotted a small highway or bridge of sorts, leading into the city, he checked the map before in his bag. The city had a few bridges heading into the city but this one seemed like the best to use.

With a hesitant nod, he agreed on going to check it over. Not knowing what he would eventually find.

—

Y/N took his time crossing the bridge, gaps and holes in the bridge made him uneasy, he wasn't a fan of heights, let's just leave it at that. But considering everything else, no infected nor anyone living was on the bridge so that was a plus, so it only took him twenty minutes to pass it.

When he finally reached the end of the bridge and stepped down onto stable ground, he let out a sigh of relief. And looked around, the first thing he saw was a row of apartment buildings, an office building further down and then some convenient stores just like before, but now more of them. He decided checking out the apartment buildings first was the safest bet, hoisting his bag up slightly behind him, he made a walk to the building.

The building was a long way from good conditions but at least it wasn't a complete wreck, like the bridge. Windows were shattered and bags, discarded clothing and trash were left behind on the floor yet no bodies in sight. He entered into what he could only imagine was the reception.

The place was a mess.

After checking over the room for anything useful, Y/N walked over to the stairs (since elevators were a no go) and trekked up, reaching the first floor. He checked every room, finding a spare water bottle still a quarter full, and some bandages. Nothing too special and some extra ammo, always a plus.

But when he reached the second floor it was different, he heard the sounds of clicking and immediately stopped in his tracks and crouched. Turning off his flashlight.

'Fuck...'

The sounds of a clicker was bad news, he hated the fucking things more than anything. The clickers were blind and couldn't see for shit, but they had excellent hearing.

They were dangerous but not unbeatable.

Y/N reached behind himself with his right hand and pulled out a military grade knife from it's sheath. The pristine blade had yet to dull from all the times he had used it. Something he had gotten from his father the day he unfortunately died.

More shuffling sounded from the room across. Y/N sneaked ahead, going past an open door and into what looked like a living room of the first apartment door he had seen.

He looked around carefully, eyeing everything and hearing for it, again, more shuffling sounded and then something fell to the floor, causing a loud thud to echo throughout the room. It seems the clicker knocked over something and it immediately rushed to it.

Y/N could finally see it now, it was in the open and looked just as disgusting as the last one he saw. It's head was all mangled and clothes torn and blooded. He almost gagged at the smell. It was in his way, but still in sight of him, if it could see it would certainly spot him, lucky.

Y/N looked down at his feet for something he could use to distract it and found a brick. He picked it up and turned his gaze back to the clicker who was currently staggering towards him. He threw it over the clicker's head and it landed behind it, smashing into a now broken tv. The loud crashing sound drew it away, it's head snapping backwards and so it rushed over to the source.

Knife in hand, Y/N sneaked up behind it, careful not to the tread on anything in his way. He finally reached it, it's form was currently jittering it's head around, trying to search for whatever had made the noise, and before it knew it. Y/N reached up behind it and grabbed it's head in a choke hold position and thrusted his knife into it's head, killing it instantly. The clicker made a low hissing noise as it died, whatever light it had vanished from it's dying form.

For a few seconds, Y/N remained still with the clicker still in his arms, before pulling the knife out from it's brain, blood oozing out, and carefully guided it to the floor.

When the dead body touched the flooring, he let go and cleaned his hands against his jeans. Y/N sighed yet again, it was quite the adrenaline, fighting and killing in-general but this? Sneaking around, not knowing if something was gonna jump out at you was more tense than he initially thought all those years ago.

He sheathed his knife back in his holster and decided to look around the room. He searched every spot and turned up with a small bottle of alcohol, some matches and even some batteries that still held life, useful for his flashlight.

After searching the other rooms and gathering up anything useful, Y/N made his way to the third floor, the final one of the building.

Turning his flashlight back on, he picked up another brick and threw it into the hallway of the room, the brick breaking on the hard wooden floor. He waited for a few seconds, to see if any infected would take the bait, but none did, it seems that clicker was the only one.

Y/N again, like before, searched every room, coming up with more supplies, even a pair of scissors in surprisingly good condition. Nothing too major but when he made it to the last room, something stuck out to him. He entered the room slowly at first, a sudden and familiar smell hitting his nose straight away... death.

When Y/N got into the room, he immediately spotted it. A man, probably no older than thirty, was hanging loosely from a rope attached to the light bulb atop the roofing of the room. The man had hung himself.

Y/N nodded to himself, this could have him at some point, taking the easy way out, except with a gun in the mouth. He looked closely at the dead body that used to be a man, and then he saw it.

A bite mark on the man's arm was visible.

'Oh...'

So it seems he hung himself so he wouldn't turn. He couldn't imagine that feeling, seeing no way out of it, only either shooting yourself or by hanging, with no choice but to leave the world. But would that be so bad? Surely life after death was far more appealing than the world right now? Y/N walked up to the body and he also spotted something else, a note attached to his chest. It read:

Got bit. Fever hit. World gone to shit. Might as well quit.

As morbid as it was, Y/N actually chuckled at it, almost rolling his eyes at the quirky poem. He shook his head to dissolve any humour; pulled out his knife and climbed onto the bed of the room, reached up to the man's neck where the rope was tightest and cut him down.

Nobody deserved to be left on display, even monsters. The man's dead body fell to the ground with a thump, and Y/N climbed down from the bed. Looking over the man one last time before searching the room. He found some rifle bullets, a bunch of them and some extra food not gone expired, he packed it all up and placed the bullets in his back pocket.

Before turning his attention towards the open window sill of the room, there was something perched against it, a green tarp covering it up. Y/N walked over to it and reached out with his right hand and pulled it away, to reveal a rifle.

The barrel of the gun facing upwards. His eyes widened in both delight and shock. The rifle, which would be classed as a sniper rifle, had a moderate scope, enough for long distance shooting.

It had the chamber of course but no magazine, so reloading would be a bitch but it was still a great find. The butt of the rifle was a bit worse for wear but still standing and the gun was only dusty, not in any disastrous way, from the time spent alone, huh, kind of like Y/N.

He crouched down at its level and grasped the side of the gun, trailing his hand across the base of it. He then grabbed hold of it with both hands and lifted up for a better inspection. It was clean, good.

Y/N readied the rifle, lifting up the scope to his right eye and looked out of the window at the various buildings and streets, the scope was fine, no cracks.

Last but not least, he pulled back the chamber with his right hand and emptied out a bullet casing long overused before placing another one in that he had found, and clicked the chamber forward with the ping, confirming it was good.

Y/N showed something of a slight grin- he hardly smiled anymore- at the new found, he now had a good and stable gun to use other than his pistol. He lowered the rifle so it was level with his body and looked out across the street again. Thinking of what buildings to hit next.

But before he could, a gunshot rang out, and Y/N snapped his gaze towards the nose, or a rough estimate of where it came from. Shortly another shot followed suit and the sound of a car crash and the blaring of a horn far away was heard.

Y/N lifted the strap of the rifle and holstered it around his average body frame, letting it dangle in front of himself. With nothing else to do, he decided to go check out the noises.

Because why not?

But what he would find there, well, it would be the start of a very long and eventful journey for Y/N L/N.