the weather would relent but the cold rain just kept falling. With one last look back and a wave from the guard, I swung open a hatch and stepped out onto the windy streets of the quarantine area.
I waited until I heard the bolt slide back into place on the other side before dropping into a squat-run and moving over into the shadows. I took out the note and scanned its contents. This was going to be a difficult run as the only source of water even close to our side of the city was a pump in the square outside city hall. This was a well-known and highly dangerous area, one which most runners made a point of avoiding.
A large group of bandits had taken control of it in the years after I was born and had been there ever since. They were known to set up ambushes with snipers on the rooftops and shoot down or capture anyone who dare stray onto their land.
My eyes drifted over the page and back again before settling on the warning; “More bandits spotted...be careful sending any runners.”I stuffed the note into a pocket and set off, keeping the message fresh in my mind and my knife at the ready.
It was about a half mile to the pump which should not have taken long but having decided to stay off the main streets and dodge between the darker alleyways it took twice the usual time.
I made my way through the ruins of the long-neglected town buildings until I spotted a possible vantage point, a roof had collapsed and lay like a ramp against the side of the building next to it, allowing easy access to the higher ground. I moved quickly, checking side to side as I went and taking extra care not to be exposed as I climbed up the slope.
Arriving on the roof I dropped my bag silently and settled myself against the chimney. From my position, I could see right out across the town center, a big paved square surrounding a ring of marble with the pump in the middle doubling as a sundial. Approaching looked to be damn near impossible. The big open area offered little to no cover and this combined with the threat of snipers on the tall buildings around the edge did nothing to make the task more appealing.
I sat and watched the world for some time. A group of dead shambled along the ground beneath me. They continued right across the open ground and out of my sight. I began to think of the stories the older citizens would tell. They would say that some of the dead could remain in control and stay almost exactly as they would in life, not driven by the need to kill and feed. Others would talk of these dead as terrible leaders of the roaming hordes, using their superior knowledge of the city zones to guide their fellow corpses in deadly attacks on the living. I, however, had only ever seen shuffling corpses, not unlike those that had just passed below me moments before.
My wondering mind was snapped back to reality as something else caught my vision. I could see someone moving in the shadows. I lay flat on my belly and pulled myself to the edge of the roof, hoping to get a better view.
The unknown stuck to the dark expertly and moved with fluid accuracy in the direction of their goal. The shadow-clad figure stopped just under the great steps that led up to the entrance of City Hall. I squinted to try and get a better idea of just who this person was as I was not yet certain if they would be a threat should they spot me or should I choose to approach.
As I began to move back towards my pack the morning sun crested the rooftop behind me and reflected off something positioned on the building opposite. My heart skipped a beat. Sniper. I tensed and held my breath. I knew that if they had seen me I would be dead already. I could only assume they were watching the progress of the person below. That was not good.
My very soul was screaming at me to get the hell out of there but I couldn’t. I knew I had to get some kind of warning to whoever this person was. I made the decision to hide my pack inside the chimney to collect later, reasoning that it would be easier to