Noah and Levy froze where they stood, their eyes fixed on the stretch of road ahead, and for several seconds, neither one of them moved.
The sharp crack of the gunshot still seemed to hang between the buildings, its echo slowly fading into the distance until the city resumed its eerie silence. The sudden quiet felt almost worse than the sound itself, as if everything heard it.
"...That was definitely a gun."
Levy suddenly said. His voice was barely above a whisper. There was no reason to speak quietly, but his instinct told him that anything louder would draw more unwanted attention.
Noah gave him a slow nod, his eyes never left the direction the sound had come from.
"Yeah."
Levy rubbed the back of his head, his gaze drifting toward the distant buildings. "So... we're definitely not alone here."
The words meant more than they seemed to, serving as a clarification rather than an observation.
Noah glanced at him, his gaze lingering for half a beat before darting around the perimeter.
"Yeah, but we knew that, though."
"I know." Levy exhaled slowly. "But hearing it makes it feel... more real, you know? Yeah, we've seen signs that people were here—the stores, the footprints, and all that, but actually hearing a gun going off? That just, yeah..."
Although he didn't finish the sentence, his words trailing off, Noah understood what he meant. Looted stores and footprints weren't one-hundred percent. The possibility of them being old wasn't little. A gunshot, on the other hand, was different. Someone had fired it just moments ago, which meant someone was alive, armed, and close enough for the sound to register.
Whether that person was a potential ally or a threat was another question entirely.
Levy shifted his weight nervously.
"You thinking about checking it out?"
A small, uneasy smile found its way onto Noah's face.
"I'd be lying if I said I wasn't curious."
Noah couldn't deny that he felt the same. A firearm gave whoever possessed it an advantage neither of them had. Range, stopping power, and the ability to deal with threats before they ever got close were things Noah couldn't. He could only accomplish that with a spear if the target were standing directly in front of him.
More importantly, the gun meant another survivor—or possibly several were within the city, possibly looting like they were. The chances of a run-in weren't small, but they weren't exactly big either.
The thought alone stirred his curiosity.
If they're chill, we could probably get some information from them that we don't have—possibly swap. If they aren't...
His gaze fell toward the distant buildings once again.
"But I think whoever fired that shot probably just drew every walker nearby to them."
Levy's expression changed.
"And if we heard it from here..."
Noah finished.
"...then so did everyone else."
Neither one knew exactly how far the sound had managed to travel, but it wasn't difficult to imagine walkers from the surrounding streets slowly converging on whoever had risked it and pulled the trigger.
If the shot had been fired out of desperation, whoever was responsible might have just made their situation considerably worse. Or perhaps they had been confident enough to deal with whatever came afterward. They weren't so sure on which possibility bothered them the most, and neither of them sounded promising.
Levy shifted in his black sweatpants. "I do still kind of want to see who it was."
"I know."
"But," He chuckled softly, the joke already forming in his mind. "Running toward a gunshot sounds like the kind of decision people make in horror movies."
Noah let out a quiet, stifled laugh.
"And we both know how those usually end for black people."
Levy chuckled before the amusement began to fade. Noah glanced back toward the direction of the gunshot, then to Levy.
"Let's skip out on this one," Noah affirmed. "It's not worth it."
The answer came easier than he'd expected. Curiosity wasn't worth risking their lives for—not yet at least. They had enough supplies to keep themselves going for the time being; there was no reason to throw that advantage away chasing after an unknown person with a gun.
"We'll keep moving," Noah said. "Just more carefully."
Levy nodded.
The open streets that had felt manageable only minutes earlier suddenly seemed far more exposed. If they had heard the gunshot, Noah was certain other survivors might have heard it as well. Some would investigate—as they had previously thought of doing while others would avoid the area entirely. And if anyone happened to cross paths with them, neither side would know the other's intentions.
With that in mind, Noah adjusted the strap of his backpack and stepped away from the center of the road.
"Let's stick close to the buildings."
Levy nodded.
They moved toward the edge of the sidewalk, keeping parked cars, brick walls, and abandoned storefronts between themselves and the open street whenever possible. At each intersection, Noah slowed and carefully looked around the corner before crossing, a habit he had picked up on from yesterday.
The farther they traveled, the more signs of hurried evacuation they encountered.
A pharmacy stood with its entrance hanging wide open, a shopping basket overturned just outside of the door, vitamins and pills spilling out. Several bicycles lay scattered across the pavement, their owners nowhere to be seen, while nearby an abandoned stroller sat just across the crosswalk, a diaper bag still hanging from its handle, filled.
Levy frowned as they passed.
"It's strange."
Noah glanced toward him.
"What is?"
"I keep expecting to find... people." He added quickly, "Not that I want to run into anyone after that gunshot."
Noah smiled, knowing exactly what he meant.
The city was full of evidence that people had once been there. Abandoned cars, scattered groceries, dropped phones, businesses left open as though they weren't afraid of getting robbed clean.
But the people themselves were surprisingly scarce. Only walkers remained.
"99%," Noah said quietly.
Levy looked at him.
"I know," he muttered. "I just thought we'd see more people other than those from school."
"If they survived..." Noah's gaze drifted toward the towering buildings farther north; his mind drifted too momentarily. "They're probably doing exactly what we're doing."
"Trying to stay alive."
Noah nodded.
The realization made the city feel much larger. Yesterday, the apocalypse had been the school. Then it had become his neighborhood. Now, every block they crossed revealed another piece of how far the disaster had spread.
Countless stories were unfolding beyond their sight. Other survivors were making decisions, gathering supplies, searching for family members, or hiding behind locked doors and hoping tomorrow would somehow be better than today.
Noah wondered how many of them would still be alive a week from now.
Neither of them noticed the pair of cloudy eyes watching from the second floor of an apartment building before the figure quietly shuffled back into the darkness.