Apartment 117 B

Keanu walked me through the woods and into the busier part of town. Well, it used to be busier. I hadn't been here in weeks, not since the end of the world hit.

Now the tall buildings were empty, the windows broken. Cars out of gas were just abandoned on the sides of streets.

It seemed like a whole other world. It was so quiet. The dead ambled along and tapped their slimy hands on the windows of the cars, unable to even pull the handle and get out.

Keanu walked through unphased, head straight forward. When I paused to look at a woman impaled through the stomach and covered my mouth in shock, Keanu grabbed my hand and kept me moving.

Although he was a stranger, there was something about holding his hand that made me feel better. It reminded me that I was not alone. I had a lot of emotions buried in the pit of my stomach, and the feeling of being held helped me keep them down.

Keanu pointed at one of the tall apartment buildings with his good hand.

"There's my home. We gotta hop down 6th street to get to the back entrance," he gently tugged me to the back, which was gated off.

He pushed up on the metal gate, lifting it up on his shoulder to slide it over the ground without it dragging and making noise.

He slipped up to a large gray door that looked like a basement entrance and shouldered it open. I could hear the dead hitting against the door upstairs, but as far as the ones in the basement, they'd all been stabbed through the eye.

I gagged at the stench and pulled the neck of my shirt over my nose and mouth. Keanu nudged me toward the stairwell.

"The stairway is clear," he whispered, "I cleared it about a week ago. Took out seven of 'em."

"Good job. You used knives?"

"Yeah, knives don't need reloading. It's more personal, but it works all the same,"

I had to admit that was very brave of him, but couldn't bring myself to say it out loud.

We started up the back stairs. There were no lights. Luckily, it was not pitch dark, but it was close. We reached a landing and Keanu shouldered open a door that I didn't even know was there.

The door opened up into an empty hallway with several doors and an out of service elevator. There were no dead bodies anywhere. The place looked untouched except for the dirt and dust.

Keanu opened the door to 117 B and led me inside.

It was simple and empty, just a couch and tables, as well as an unworking television. The kitchen was bare and the fridge was open and empty, and all the spoiled foods had been disposed of. It was nothing special: white walls and hardwood floors and lots of dust.

"Welcome home," he shrugged. "It's not the best, it's not the worst, but for now, it's safe."

"It's a good find. It's off the ground, and it's big enough for one or two people." I told him, looking around.

"There's one bedroom, but you can take it,"

I felt my face flush. I wasn't under the impression that we'd be staying in the same house. I wasn't trying to be selfish, but I had thought that I would get my own apartment.

"No, no... you take the bedroom, it's your place,"

"I insist," Keanu smiled. He disappeared down the hall and returned to me with his first aid kit. He opened it and I quickly counted the inventory.

There was half a bottle of painkillers, a thin roll of gauze, alcohol wipes, band aids, scissors, and vaseline. He pulled from his pocket a small roll of string and a needle.

We took a seat at his small kitchen table and spread out his supplies. He moved the chairs close to each other, so that when we sat, our knees touched.

I took his hand again and set my teeth. Blood was not my thing, and sewing a stranger's hand was not number one on my list of things I'd love to do.

"I'm gonna be sick," I grumbled, unwrapping his hand.

"You can do this," he encouraged. His eyes were not worried. He had full trust in me, a person he met an hour ago. Why? Was it because he had no other choice?

The cut began to bleed again, and he hissed in pain, so I washed it out. Keanu bit down on his lip.

"This is gonna sting," I mumbled, letting him grip my free hand. I dabbed experimentally at his cut with an alcohol pad. He let out a pained yelp and was working hard not to rip his hand away from me.

My heart broke for him. I didn't mean to hurt him. He hissed, squeezing his eyes shut and tightening his grip. He pulled his hand from mine suddenly, I assume to let me work, and put it down on my knee instead.

"You okay?" I asked him quietly.

He hummed in response, fighting the urge to close his hand. He was clenching his lip between his teeth.

"Okay, I'm gonna stitch you," I mumbled cautiously. I bit my lip and started threading the needle.

"Gonna close my eyes," he grunted.

"Do whatever you gotta," I stammered, running my thumb over the back of his hand. His long fingers clenched around my knee.

I tried to stitch him up as efficiently and quickly as I could manage, so he wouldn't be in pain. He would whimper on occasion, and I could see him screwing up his face. I probably used more thread than I needed, but the wound itself was closed, and I wrapped him up again.

He looked down at the clean gauze, peeling his eyes open warily, and wiggling his fingers.

"Thank you," he whispered embarrassedly. He sounded sincere.

"I did what I could. I'm sorry,"

"Why are you sorry? You saved my hand from infection,"

"Maybe. I hope I did. Sorry about the pain though. I don't really sew, I'm no doctor...," I looked down at my bloody fingers and all the anxiety about stitching Keanu's hand came flooding back. I felt a little nauseous. What if I screwed up his hand forever?

Instead of letting me dwell on it, Keanu opened his arms.

"Is it okay if I hug you?"

"Yeah," I whispered. He stood up and hugged me. I found that my ear was on his chest, and that his arms felt nice. It was the first hug I'd received since I was separated from my parents, so I felt very tempted to cry.

I was saving my tears for another time, though. No need to burden a stranger with another problem after his hand was just sewn shut and the dead were coming back to life.

"So," he said after a quick hug, "You still want to meet the other survivors in this building?"