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"After spending a few minutes looking around, I found an old walking cane that belonged to my grandfather.

I wasn't quite sure why my mother had kept it but I was glad I wouldn't have to put anymore weight on the leg than was necessary.

The walking cane was just the right height and made moving much easier, even if getting past the fallen debris was a bit of a hastle.

I looked around the appartment again, checking all the draws and cupboards that hadn't been smashed by the falling ceiling, and found a travel first aid kit (that I added to what was left from the much larger kitchen kit), and a box of batteries (though only three were inside) for the torch.

After one final, slower search, I decided I had taken everything that could be of use (most of it stuffed into an old gymbag), and I began to move some of the fallen ceiling that was blocking the door.

It only took about ten minutes but it was exhausting work, especially with my leg, and when the way was clear I spent a few moments just leaning against the door.

Then I opened the door to the darkened hallway.

Right infront of the door, just where the woman that had scratched me had been, was a pile of dust and in it, small broken bones.

It was a strange thing, I remember, I wasn't particularly upset, the only thing that went through my mind was the sentence, 'How long was I asleep, anyway?'. Harsh, I know, but I didn't believe what my eyes were showing me.

I looked down the hallway and saw about nine other piles of dust. I knocked on a few of the doors and wasn't entirely surprised when their was no reply.

As I made my way down the stairs to each subsequent floor, flashing my torch down each corridor.

I remembered from my high-school biology that most lethal viruses have a fairly long incubation period, it didn't make sense for them to kill their host so quickly. It was like removing the plug from an incubator. It was suicide!

Thats why I was so unsure about what was happening. If it wasn't a virus what was it? I thought about the explosions and wondered if it could have been some sort of chemical agent, but that didn't explain the real question; why I was still alive?

A shiver went down my spine as I thought those last words.

That woman had clearly been infected with something when she scratched me, virus or not. Now she seemed to have decomposed into dust. But how? Their was no way I could have be **** for more than a few days, nothing decomposes that fast.

I then stopped in the middle of the stairwell as I recalled something. I had felt the effects of , of something, right after the woman had scratched me.

As I stepped out into the street in the diminishing light I noticed the overturned cars and papers fluttering in the cool breeze.

Then, cutting through the darkness of an alley on the other side of the street, I saw a short beam of light, moving around slowly.

I considered whether I should investigate the lightsource.