The school (or the remains of it) was, understandably, not in a good area. The police didn't come here. In fact few people who had a choice came here. Those that did were often tired of living even if they didn't admit it to themselves. And so they came here to die, either literally, or in other less pleasant ways, like becoming ghouls or similar. You wouldn't find human gangs here. It was simply too dangerous. You need to a fortress to be able to hold back the continuous assaults. And even if you could somehow manage that, doing so would attract attention of the kind of creatures you wouldn't be able to stand up to for long. Fortunately, the world had not quite gone to hell yet. So although areas such as this existed, usually within a few miles you could find civilisation. Indeed the contrast was surprising.
Ghost and Amber ambled along what had once been roads. The markings were faded, but the tarmac was still in good enough condition that it was comfortable to walk on. It had the added advantage that anyone else travelling would be clearly seen, and that was something most people didn't want to risk. Amber’s shotgun rested easily against her shoulder. Although she was walking with her normal, elven grace and making no overt effort to be stealthy, she was remarkably quiet. Ghost too, was as silent as his name.
It was eerie to walk down these roads again. He remembered running along them after buses and then as he got older driving down them in his first car. He remembered the laughter and conversations of everything from girls to the meaning of life. The phone box where Stewart had dialed random free-phone numbers and then tried, rather unsuccessfully, breathing heavily at the first rather bored woman who answered; and the incident when Claire had made it abundantly clear that if Mike tried to look up her skirt one more time she would take great pleasure in knocking him unconscious.
At one time, houses had lined these roads with immaculate gardens, carefully tended by house-proud owners. Times have changed and what had once been an affluent area plunged into negative equity. People who thought they were set up for life and the world shifted. Down became up, left became right, and suddenly all the guarantees they’d built their lives on vanished overnight. A few managed to find a place in the New World, retreating back to the safety of the enclaves. Most didn't make it. There were no natural animals here anymore. Weeds and overgrowth were reclaiming the land. The trees had somehow managed to continue to grow over the years, their roots now digging deep into pavements and building foundations, slowly but inexorably destroying the constructions around them. Not even birds flew overhead.
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