Survival in the last days of America

"Grab your things, let's go."

After calling out to Sarah and Alan, Brian stuck his head back into the room one last time, double-checking that nothing important had been left behind, before firmly closing the front door.

They descended the stairwell from the office building and stepped out onto the street. The sun hung high in the sky, its warm rays bathing the cold pavement in golden light, adding a touch of color and warmth to the otherwise lifeless streets.

By now, the sidewalks were bustling with people. Young children played freely along the curbs, watched over by elderly figures with kind, gentle expressions. Many adult men and women hurried past with determined strides, heading toward the streets near the quarantine zone's outer wall—presumably on their way to the factories to work and earn supply cards.

Anna led the group, walking ahead with confidence. After all, she had lived here for over three months and knew the area far better than Brian and the others.

As she walked, Anna occasionally looked up to orient herself, then glanced down at the address Brian had given her. Suddenly, as if struck by a sudden memory, she slowed her pace and waited for the others to catch up before saying, "This neighborhood… when we get there, we should be careful."

"What do you mean?" Brian asked, frowning.

He knew Anna wouldn't say something like that without a reason. His voice carried genuine curiosity.

Anna handed the note back to Brian and looked ahead as she explained, "I just remembered—the address you gave me is right next to one of the most dangerous areas in Zone A right now."

She paused deliberately, expecting someone to ask a follow-up question. But after waiting a few seconds, no one spoke. She turned to see that all three of them were listening intently, not interrupting. Surprised, she continued.

"Ever since the quarantine zone stopped enforcing mandatory labor, some people—mostly idlers—decided the work was too hard. They started gathering together, spending their days gambling, boxing, and finding any way to entertain themselves, all while trying to take other people's supply cards. Some women who don't want to work have even started selling their bodies for cards, with set prices. Over time, as more people joined, it turned into a sort of underground community."

"It's also the area with the most robberies and violent fights. People have been beaten so badly they've suffered broken bones, and their supply cards stolen. Without cards, they can't afford proper medical treatment. Some die at home, others are left with permanent disabilities."

"The military sent patrols there a few times, but life in the quarantine zone is pretty dull, as you've probably noticed. So every time order was restored, things would fall apart again within days. Eventually, the military gave up. They just stopped intervening. Most regular residents who know about it avoid the place entirely, going out of their way to walk around it."

"Oh no… so living near there would be dangerous?" Sarah exclaimed, her voice rising with concern.

Her eyes widened. If Marlene—the person they were looking for—actually lived in that area, what would they do?

"Don't jump to conclusions. We need to find her first," Brian said calmly.

He gestured for Anna and Sarah to keep moving. Danger didn't concern him much right now. The only thing that mattered was finding Marlene.

The group continued toward the left side of Zone A. The notorious area Anna had described lay at the intersection between Zone F and the quarantine wall. Nearby was a livestock breeding factory, which meant there was usually a decent amount of foot traffic.

Though the place was chaotic, it wasn't completely lawless. Soldiers were stationed near the factory, and watchtowers along the quarantine wall had a clear view of the area. As a result, anyone with malicious intentions avoided committing extreme acts in broad daylight. This was exactly why the military had stopped intervening—so long as no outrageous crimes occurred in public, they turned a blind eye to what happened in the shadows.

As Brian and the others entered the neighborhood, a wave of shouts and noise hit their ears.

Lean or bulky men leaned against walls along the sidewalks, arms crossed, chatting casually. But Brian quickly noticed their eyes constantly scanning the passing residents—especially when they spotted their group: a woman, a child, and two others. The number of lingering stares increased noticeably.

Beyond these clearly hostile figures, small groups had gathered. Brian glanced over—obviously gambling. Each person had a pile of supply cards in front of them, serving as betting chips.

What lay further back was hidden from view by walls and buildings, but the loud, excited shouts coming from inside made it clear: illegal boxing matches and other illicit activities were happening, just as Anna had described.

"It should be around here," Anna said, slowing to a stop.

She mentally reviewed the address and began scanning the buildings. A moment later, she spotted an old, run-down apartment block with patches of green mold creeping up its walls. After confirming the number on the door, she nodded. "Yes, this is it."

They climbed the stairs. According to the address, Marlene lived on the ninth floor. As they ascended, Sarah checked the time and sighed.

"We came at such a bad time… We don't even know if she's home. I wish we'd come earlier."

"Yeah, whose fault is that?" Brian shot back, rolling his eyes.

Though he didn't say more, they all realized the risk of finding no one. Still, they didn't stop. At the very least, they had to knock.

As Sarah had half-jokingly predicted, when they reached the apartment, no one was inside.

But they were lucky. Their persistent knocking disturbed a resident. An elderly woman with white hair, around sixty or seventy years old, opened her door and looked at them with mild surprise.

"Can I help you?"

Anna stepped forward first, politely explaining their purpose and asking if the woman knew where Marlene was.

The old woman frowned slightly, studying the group. Seeing they were just young people and didn't seem dangerous, she thought for a moment, then replied:

"Yes, a girl named Marlene does live here. She moved in about ten days ago. She's a kind girl—helps me massage my legs, cleans my room… a real sweetheart…"

"Uh…"

Anna hesitated, sensing the woman was about to ramble off-topic. She almost interrupted, but then reconsidered. It wouldn't be polite to cut off an elder.

"Oh, look at me—my old mind wandered again," the woman said, suddenly realizing her digression. "Sorry, dear. With so few people to talk to these days, I get carried away. You asked about Marlene—right. When you leave this building, turn right and walk straight for about five hundred meters. You'll see a small clinic. That's where she works."

"A clinic?" Brian asked from behind, raising an eyebrow in surprise.

He'd heard correctly, but couldn't believe it. In the quarantine zone, anyone needing medical care went to the central hospital in Zone G—a well-equipped facility with advanced technology. As long as you paid the required supply cards, you could get treatment. He'd never heard of a local clinic.

Anna, hearing Brian's surprise, knew he wasn't aware of the recent changes. She didn't respond immediately. Instead, she first thanked the elderly woman, helped her back inside, and closed the door before turning to explain.

"A while ago, the management center announced they'd be opening a small clinic in this part of Zone A. It's meant for minor issues—headaches, fevers, wound stitching—so people don't have to travel all the way to Zone G. I think it opened not long after you all left the academy. No wonder… I never imagined she'd be working at this new clinic."

Brian nodded slowly, absorbing the information. Clearly, the higher authorities were trying to improve conditions in the quarantine zone, even if only in small steps. It was progress in the right direction.

"Alright, we're not getting anywhere by standing here," Brian said, tilting his head slightly. "Let's go."

The group descended the same stairs they'd climbed, exited the building, turned right, and followed the directions. Soon, amid the dusty, crowded streets, they spotted a building with a red cross symbol on the roof—the clinic.

The newly established clinic had been set up by taking over one of the largest private clinics in the area. At that moment, several people were lined up outside, waiting to be seen.

Two soldiers armed with rifles stood guard at the entrance. They stared straight ahead, but occasionally glanced inside. Their duties were twofold: preventing disturbances and deterring anyone with ill intentions.

Inside the clinic were medical supplies sent from the central zone—some of them valuable. But even more important was protecting the doctors and nurses who worked there, many of whom were recent arrivals or volunteers.

"Let's go in," Anna said, pausing briefly at the doorway, eyeing the crowded interior.