All Chapters of Left Here: Chapter 11 - Chapter 18

The car runs out of fuel by the time we make it to Cleveland. It's even worse here. A bridge is in ruins. The buildings up ahead left ransacked, crawling with vines. One was still on fire. Shattered glass and ash cover the floors. There are forgotten things here too. A protest sign. An alcohol bottle. A piece of The Daily from March- halfway burnt. '5B Cases, citizens to evacu-' the paper read, the fire cutting the rest of the words off.We sit in the car for a little while. Quill seems fine, although he could be better. He seems a little dizzy, coughs constantly, and his temperature's hotter."You should rest," I say to him, his eyes closed halfway. He suddenly flicks them open. "What about you?" He asks. "I'll look through the town, there might be a CVS that's still standing that'll help you somehow. " There's a flash of worry on his face that he hides a second later. "Let's look

We get up early today.Only nine days left before the Recoverers come for their last mission.And never return.In nine days, I might never see my sister again.Probably not even Quill. He can still get infected. Unlike me.The thought of being alone, forgotten in this wasteland and thought to be dead, absolutely terrifies me.Today we search for a working car.Figaro meowing in protest. I think he's grown fond of the pickup.The highways were full of them. But they were broken down, invaded with vines, or out of gas.A lot of them have been left behind, abandoned in traffic jams. We did find a few, even one with an almost-full tank, but they were stuck in between other cars, making it next to impossible to get out. Still, nothing. The bright yellow orb was high in

Our food consists of a can. We have a lot of water, however. That shouldn't be a problem.Thankfully, Quill is not-dead and doing well, the wounds healing nicely. His neck wound has completely sealed, although the one on the arm needs a few more days. I look over at Figaro. He's biting something rotten, black with ash. I then realize he's eating a human hand. My gag reflex kicks in and I look away.There's no way I'm eating a corpse. I'd rather starve, thank you very much.Quill is busy scouting the area we arrived to. We decided to stop here, since our legs were burning from the pedaling, my head spinning, and our stomachs upset. The bike seems fine, but the paint has peeled from hitting the ground one too many times. It's as if Quill has no idea how to ride a bike. He did get a hang of it, however, and rode smoothly after that.We took turns, one pedaling and one sitting on the rear. The day

Quill!" I yell, the setting sun casting ominous shadows. "Quill!"I run as fast as my feet can take me. Being weighed down by the box of cans doesn't help. "Quill!" I shout louder.I see the outline of the tree, swaying in the distance. Then the rock. I let out a sigh of relief. As I come closer, it gets clearer. The pack is open, laying on its side. I peer into it and see a black ball, curled up and huddled inside. I pick it up and put it on my back once more. I feel a shifting from it, then it stills. I leave the box, hidden by the rock. I look around carefully. There's no sign of him. "Quill?" I ask tentatively. I notice the flashlight on the ground. I pick it up, barely providing any light, and walk toward one of the alternate paths. There were several, one blocked by the remains of a house.I walk toward one. Luck, don't leave me now, I think.