Chapter 1 – Pov and Carrie

2nd October 2027 14:12

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The sound of knife hitting wooden cutting board filled the kitchen. Pov, 21 years old, arranged the cut vegetables neatly on a plate.

Looks great, Pov thought, smiling.

Before a dish would get savored by the tongue, it would always get savored by the eyes. Therefore, the look of a dish was important, and Pov would stand firmly by that belief. The visuals added to the taste.

Time to serve it.

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14:14

‘Pov! Finally!’ said a man with cigar in his mouth, Razor. He was big, muscular, and topless. He and his four colleagues were surrounding a stray dog—which had been beaten black and blue on the ground. ‘I am so hungry! So much that I had to distract myself!

‘Any later and I wouldn’t know what to do!’ Razor said with a laugh.

He tossed his burning cigar toward the dog’s body—and stomped them with his boots.

The dog’s whimper made Pov’s heart shrank, but she had to endure—had to keep smiling.

‘Here’s your food.’ Pov served the plate.

They were outdoors, on the road of a settlement to be more exact. Now that running vehicles were rare, they had taken out a dining table and set it outside. Why eat in a dark cramped room when they could do so in the bright spacious outdoors?

‘Thank you. Really, Pov, what am I without you? In this world that’s been abandoned by God, in this world where a good dish is damned difficult to obtain, you’re heaven sent I tell you!’

Pov smiled at the compliment.

Razor took a seat at the table, followed by his four colleagues.

‘She’s beautiful to top it off,’ said his colleague.

‘That is absolutely true.’ Razor grabbed the fork. ‘A sight for sore…’ he trailed off. He observed the dish. Carefully. Eyes close to the plate. Then, he pinched something out of the food. A strand of hair. Long, curly, brown. Pov’s.

The sight made Pov shudder. This is bad. This is bad. This is bad.

‘Pov, what did I tell you about your damned hair?’

‘I-I-I’m sorry.’

‘Look, sorry won’t cut it. As punishment you’re to go to the storehouse and bring back food.’

That, she could do. Pov nodded.

‘Alone,’ he added.

Her eyes quivered. ‘No. Not alone! Please!’

Razor raised an eyebrow, smirked. He stood up and approached Pov. His shadow loomed over her. Then, without hesitation, he punched her in the gut. The impact caused her to lunge backward.

Made her throw up the food which she had eaten.

‘You don’t get to disobey me. When I say you’re going alone, you do it.’

‘But… but I’m scared of being alone…’ On the ground, Pov begged.

‘Won’t be punishment if it’s not something you hate, won’t it?’

‘Please, no.’ Pov grabbed his shoe. Ready to do anything that didn’t involve being alone. Anything.

‘Let’s go, boys. I’m in the mood to play cards inside.’ Razor led his colleagues into a house. Pov wanted to follow, but she needed time before she could stand up. After everyone except her was inside, he shut the door.

‘Wait, wait! Please!!’ The moment they were out of sight, Pov’s hair stood on its ends. ‘Please!!’ she screeched.

She understood that she wasn’t alone. That there were still people behind that door. However, the moment they were out of her sight, she started feeling alone. This scared her. So much. The ground felt like it was spinning. The air felt heavy to breathe. And her heart was thumping loud enough for her to hear.

From behind the door, Razor reminded, ‘Grab food from the storehouse and then you can return.’

Understanding that there wouldn’t be other ways, Pov quickly went off. As if her life depended on this.

She was dripping cold sweats. Her surroundings felt like a blur.

She wanted to escape from this.

She had to grab food. Fast.

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14:21

This settlement Pov was traversing had long been abandoned.

The infrastructure remained fine, a place like this couldn’t turn into uninhabitable ruins in a span of around a year from neglect; however, no original occupants were in sight—or, at least, not living ones. When the calamity was announced, people from small settlements were concerned about their well-being, and decided to move to the capital city.

What happened to the few that remained, the non-living, was something that Pov didn’t need to know, couldn’t need to know, and wouldn’t need to know. They weren’t important. If only they could comfort her fear of being alone, then they would be important. But they weren’t.

I have to grab food, Pov thought, focused on the task. The faster I get food, the less I’ll have to be alone.

The thought of being alone was suffocating. Pov hated this. Hated being alone. Scared of it.

Finally, she arrived at the storehouse.

The gate to the storehouse used to be open. The previous occupants of this settlement had left them open. However, since Razor had taken over with his colleagues, they had decided to guard the storehouse. With a lock.

A lock. Which required a key. That Pov didn’t bring.

No. No. No!

Returning and grabbing the key and redoing the whole trip would mean more time being alone! This punishment was too much for her!

She felt sick.

Tears dripped down her cheeks.

Darkness crept, surrounding her vision.

She was scared. Scared of being alone. Feared this.

‘Someone, help me… please…’ she muttered.

… Pov heard a rustle. In the bush nearby. Sure, the wind caused leaves to rustle from time to time, but this one sounded different. Maybe her mind was playing tricks on her, but Pov would bet on this hope. Could be a small animal, maybe a squirrel, and that was fine as the little creature could ease her isolation. As long as she wasn’t alone, anyone would do.

Pov rushed toward the bush. She went to it and…

Someone slipped behind her. Pushed a knife on her throat.

‘How many people are living in this settlement?’ the assailant asked.

Feeling the blade touching her skin, Pov understood the danger she was in, how she could lose her life. In this “new” world, ever since people knew that the earth had an ultimate deadline, some were no longer concerned about long-term consequences and behaved dangerously. Like this.

Make one wrong move—and she could die.

This knife… was nothing though.

‘A person!’ Pov exclaimed. ‘Thank goodness!’

It could be said—no, must be said that being held at knifepoint and being happy was an odd behavior. But this was normal behavior for Pov. After all, a knife wasn’t as scary as being alone. Being alone, she couldn’t handle. But being threatened with a knife in comparison? Well, that would be a walk in the park with someone else!

‘Answer me,’ the assailant demanded. Blade pressed deeper.

Ideally, Pov would like to not be alone and to not be dead. Thus, reminded of this life and death situation, she had to answer the question to the best of her abilities. W-What was the question again? she panicked. It was—It was... I can’t remember…

‘Um… I’m-I’m really sorry. But could you—could you please repeat the question please?’

‘How many people are living in this settlement?’

‘T-There’s six including me.’

‘Are they dangerous?’

‘One of them has a gun. They’re rough, cruel. Without laws to restrict them, they are dangerous.’

‘What kind of gun?’

‘A pistol.’

‘What’s your role in the group?’

‘I cook for them. The leader, Razor, is obsessed with the perfect food. I make sure that his demands are met.’

‘… Does your cooking taste good?’

… Odd question, Pov noticed. The whole time, her assailant had been concerned about the possible dangers, but suddenly, upon hearing about food, the assailant shifted the question toward that. ‘I believe so, yes.’

‘Alright. I’ll have it.’

Huh?

Her assailant released the knife. Freed, Pov turned to see a woman who was around her age, perhaps slightly older. She had short black hair that reached her neck, wore a dark blue jacket and black trousers. Carried on her back a red backpack. Beside her was a red luggage.

‘I’ll have a taste of your cooking,’ she said.

Pov didn’t know where to start. Razor would never share his food with someone else. Although there was no shortage of food here, there was a shortage of good ingredients. No matter what, he would refuse to allow the ingredients to be used for someone else.

However, if Pov said all that, she feared that this woman would leave her alone. After all, she wouldn’t have a reason to stick around if she couldn’t get food. If Pov were to feign ignorance, then she would accompany her to Razor and… she would avoid being alone!

No clue how Razor would treat this woman though. However, when the world was like this, self-preservation was important.

I’m sorry…

‘I’ll lead you to Razor.’

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14:45

‘What’s your name?’ Pov asked. Thus far, their walk had been filled with silence. She figured that there was no harm engaging in small talk.

‘Carrie,’ the woman said, brisk.

‘I’m Pov, nice to meet you.’

Silence.

Carrie was walking behind her. The sound of her luggage’s wheel rolling on the road indicated her presence. Perhaps she had nodded upon hearing her name.

Generally, people would ask as to what kind of name Pov was, as it was rather uncommon. However, Carrie didn’t.

Is she being considerate? Pov wondered. Or does she just not care?

Difficult to determine.

Regardless, they finally arrived at Razor’s current base. A one-story house that he and his colleagues were occupying. It was the most comfortable place around due to the luxurious furniture inside. Not to mention, this place’s kitchen had complete tools.

He should be playing cards inside.

Pov was about to knock on the door—but stopped.

She…

‘What’s wrong?’ Carrie asked.

‘I… I was supposed to return with food. But… I forgot…’

‘Knock anyway. I don’t mind sharing my food as long as I can replenish them. You still have food inside?’

‘I still do. It’s just that generally we’d like to keep some stock to make sure that there’s no such thing as late food.’

‘Knock.’

Thus, Pov knocked.

One of Razor’s colleagues opened the door. He was surprised that Pov had brought back a woman with her. She led Carrie to the living room, where Razor was playing cards with the others.

‘Oh? What’s this?’ Razor remarked. ‘A woman? A beautiful one at it.’ He placed down his cards and stood up.

Carrie stepped forward. Then, directly to the point, she said, ‘I heard about your obsession for the perfect food. and I would like to have a try. Of course, I wouldn’t ask for free. I am willing to share the ingredients that I had obtained from my journey with you in exchange for a taste of that perfect food.’

‘Hm? What kind of ingredients you have?’

She reached for the side of her backpack and pulled out a bottle of sauce. ‘Got this from the west, can’t find anything like this around here.’

‘That’s intriguing…’ Razor said as he approached. ‘I assume that your luggage has more ingredients like this inside?’

‘Yes.’

‘… How about I take all of those ingredients,’ he said. ‘And you get nothing?’

He took out a gun from his pocket; pressed the nuzzle on Carrie’s forehead.

Pov’s heart skipped a beat at the sight. All it took was a pull of the trigger and her head would be blown off.

Carrie raised her hands up. ‘W-Wait. I’ll give you everything I have. Pl—’

In a swift motion, she got hold of the gun, pushed it to the side, and moved her body in the opposite direction to avoid the line of fire. Then, without missing a beat, she twisted the gun—this broke Razor’s trigger finger—and snatched the weapon.

The gun was now hers.

‘ARGH!’ Razor’s knees touched the ceramic floor. His pointing finger was pointing in the wrong direction.

Bang!

Carrie shot the gun. Up toward the roof. To discourage his colleagues from rushing at her.

‘One funny move and I’ll shoot you,’ she warned. ‘Unlike him, I know how to use this thing.’

Despite that, one of the colleagues, thinking that he had a chance, rushed at Carrie. To which, calmly, Carrie aimed and—Bang! The colleague fell to the ground, thigh riddled with a bullet.

‘Better start treating him.’

In an instant, this woman had taken control of the place.

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15:20

Carrie’s luggage contained many ingredients that Pov couldn’t have attained here. There were spices from the north, ketchup from the east, and a mysterious black… jam… from who knew where.

Pov had used the ingredients she dared try tasting for her cooking; now, she presented the dish to Carrie, as requested.

This is the best dish that I’ve made since the announcement of the calamity, Pov thought.

It was just the two of them there as Razor and his colleagues had left.

Carrie took a spoonful of soup and tasted it.

Her expression was—flat.

She sighed. ‘Tasteless…’

‘“Tasteless”?’ Pov could hardly believe her words. ‘It can’t be!’

‘I had too much expectation…’

‘… Would you like me to cook another dish?’

Carrie shook her head.

Although she found the dish tasteless, she ate all of it. Only then did she stand up and prepare to leave.

‘Wait, you can’t leave me alone,’ Pov said.

‘Go back to those men.’

‘They’re going to treat me horribly! Especially since I brought you here!’

‘Tough luck.’ Thus, Carrie prepared to leave.

‘Wait, wait!’

Ideally, Pov would like to not be alone and to not be dead.

She did not want to return to Razor, because she would be dead. She did not want to stay here either, because she would be alone (which was worse).

Thus, Pov chased Carrie, regardless of whether she liked being followed.