Puffs of smoke rose high, making the sky a slightly greyish colour. While ensuring it was under control outside, I tried to look out of the narrow, dusty room in an empty building. There was no one but bodies strewn about the streets like trash. Cars and public facilities were damaged due to demonstrations and massive looting that occurred several years ago. But, I'm not sure, I don't know, maybe I've forgotten too much about the sea of people.
I looked up for a moment and looked at the cloud of smoke. Maybe a fire. Then, with stealthy steps, I approached one of the bodies lying under the electricity pole on the right side. The reaction that arises is always the same every time I encounter a lifeless body; I almost vomit stomach acid when I see the condition of the corpse of a man wearing a security guard shirt with the name Sunaryadi on it. His face was destroyed with gaping bite wounds covered in flies on his left hand and both legs. I don't know what happened to the poor man until his right hand was no longer intact.
Scenes like this have become a constant sight since demonstrations and the pandemic. Even corpses that had become human skeletons were left lying like carcasses. But a scene like this is a nightmare that can't be avoided even if I try to wake up. My brown irises caught the knife and gun at his waist.
While saying a prayer in my heart that I didn't mean to steal, I slowly took the two weapons, trembling, then put them in the two back pockets of my jeans. Then I left the security guard's body and looked for another hiding place. Unfortunately, my stomach suddenly thrashing for filling made me think twice.
I have to find a hiding place that has a supply of food.
Barefoot, I walked warily and occasionally hid behind walls or cars. Not because of fear of being arrested by state officials amid a strange epidemic that has hit the country, but rather because humans who have met their end come back to life as something else. Something scarier than a predator that preys on humans. More greedy than state officials who fight over seats and treasures.
Sometimes, I also wonder about nature; women who are always considered weak by men have managed to survive this far. Walking aimlessly along streets is considered safe from 'them,' taking shelter at night in high places, and moving as fast as possible during the day without a weapon. The hot sun burns every layer of skin, especially the soles of the feet, which come into contact with the asphalt. What a fool! When I find an empty shop, instead of looking for footwear, I prioritise looking for food to maintain my life.
Raising my head while reading the street sign that says Boulevard Raya - a row of abandoned luxury houses and shophouses - is like a silent witness to the disaster that struck this place. My eyes widened when I saw one of the strange creatures walking alone in the middle of the road with a blank stare. With a quick movement, I ducked to protect myself behind a rusty dark green bus. My heartbeat was racing wildly, beads of sweat appeared the size of corn kernels, and I was breathing shallowly, afraid that the brainless creature would hear the slightest sound. Unlucky! Both hands trembled when I imagined whether my life would end in this place.
In my heart, I should have just hidden in that narrow room. However, hiding without knowing the outside situation is the same as slowly committing suicide. Swallowing hard, I crawled under the bus with quick movements without making any noise. I can see from here that both legs are clad in worn and torn brown pipe pants; the creature is walking unsteadily while occasionally stopping to find out what to look for.