It had been, what, a month since the virus had spread?
Annabelle wasn’t sure any more, she just knew she was alone and she was on the run. But, not from people this time, no, not from people. From shells of people, rotting, grunting, dead shells. All of them, faces of who she knew, some of whom she didn’t, which she imagined had travelled from London. They were all starting to come here.
Belle had been hiding in the homeless shelter, used to having to hide and sneak around everywhere was keeping her alive. Her, and some of the other homeless people. She had been getting their food, clothes, and water, and thankfully, the hot water was still on here. No electricity, but hot water was good enough. They had saved that for showers.
Breaking away from the small group, she moved towards the kitchen, a torch(flashlight) in one hand and a baseball bat in the other. Slowly, she stepped in, flashing her light in the corner and opening her mouth to scream.