Create a character who believes they are the last human on Earth, only to discover they're not alone, alternate and expanded part 2

(I took most of the original part 2 of this story, but changed and built on it)

"Oh," said the man as he began to approach her. 

Fuck fight, freeze, and fawn, it was time for flight.

Ivy took off running to where she'd left her car. A faint memory of her mother telling her to never drive drunk spun through her head, but who could she hurt? This one other guy? Surely she wasn't drunk enough to avoid hitting simply one person.

"Hey, it's okay!" the man called after her, starting to run too.

Ivy didn't like that. He should just let her go. How could the only man alive in the now still be like all the men in the before?

Ivy picked up her pace.

So did the man.

And he was faster.

"I'm just looking for people!" shouted the man. He was close now. So close that she could see his features. He had black hair, mussed and clearly self-cut. His gray-green eyes shone a bit too brightly for it being nighttime. He was miraculously clean-shaven and wore clean, or at least clean-looking, clothes. If he had not been chasing her, Ivy would've said he gave off harmless vibes. But isn't that what survivors often said of their perpetrators?

Ivy came to an abrupt halt, sticking out her leg. The man fell for it, literally. He tumbled over himself and landed on the asphalt hard, stunned. This gave Ivy time to get out her pocket knife that her Girl Scout leader had given her and pin him to the ground with its small blade.

"Hey, you don't have to do this," the man sputtered.

Ivy wasn't sure what she had been planning on doing anyways, so she replied, "Do what?"

"I'm just--I've just been alone for so long. I only wanted to talk with you."

"So talk."

"I--uh--I--"

"Not great at talking are you?"

"Sorry--just--do you know what happened?"

Ivy felt icy. She wasn't sure why exactly. Surely this is what she was wondering too, but perhaps some deep part of her had hoped if she ever ran into someone else that they'd have answers.

"No," she said after a beat. "Is there anyone else with you?" she quickly followed up.

"No--I haven't seen anyone since...well since the thing."

"Eloquent."

The man just blinked at her, still frozen with fear of her meager knife.

"Where were you?" asked Ivy.

"What?"

"Where were you when it happened?" Ivy clarified.

"I worked as a parking attendant, valeting cars. I was valeting this really obnoxious guy's car down to the lowest level of the garage so he'd have to wait a long time to get it back when he was leaving and then I heard the screaming."

The same moment rushed back to Ivy and she gripped the knife tighter. "What have you been doing all this time?"

"All this time?"

"Yes, since the screaming."

"I tried looking for people. Tried using my phone, no one would pick up, but it would still ring. I tried posting online and no one would respond, but the posts did go through. I've just been moving along ever since, trying to find someone who knew what happened. But it looks like I only partially succeeded."

Ivy paused, considering. "Still driving that obnoxious guy's car?" she asked, withdrawing her knife somewhat.

"How...how did you know I took it?" His eyes flicked quickly between Ivy's face and the blade.

"I figured obnoxious guys often have nice cars."

The man huffed a smile, "They often do."

"I'm looking for people too. At least, I used to be," Ivy trailed off a bit. "If you drive your own car, we can stick together."

"I can do that," the man nodded. Relief washed through him, relaxing him and his eyes.

"Good," Ivy replied, flicking the blade back into its slit and getting off of him. "A piece of advice, don't run after a woman at night." She extended a hand to help him get up.

His small grin slanted.

Before Ivy could retract her hand, he had grabbed it and pulled her to the ground. Ivy's head was still a bit bleary from the wine, but she wasn't about to give up without a fight.

He tried to reach for her knife, but she managed to throw it far away. It wasn't the best plan, but she was close to her car and she could make it there while he ran for the knife if that's what he chose.

The man swore under his breath and then tried to grab her wrists. Ivy had been an avid true crime listener in the before and she wasn't going to let all of that knowledge go to waste.

Ivy went for his eyes. Her nails were jagged from weeks or even months (what was time in the now anyways?) of neglect and survivalistic use. She went for his eyes and he screamed, but there was no one there to hear them.

Or so Ivy hoped. 

If this man wasn't alone, she probably couldn't win the fight.

As she clawed at his eyes, he begged for mercy, but she knew that was a trick too. He reeled back, and she managed to knock him around and change their positions so she was behind him on the ground. Ivy wrapped her arm around his throat, managing to get his throat right at the crook of her elbow, and pinned him while holding onto her choking arm with the other.

The man clawed at her arm, but she wouldn't let up until she felt him slacken beneath her. She held on a few more moments to be sure he wasn't faking before shoving his limp body off of her and running for her knife.

The man did not get up.

Feeling empowered with the knife in her hands, Ivy pondered what to do.

The man still did not get up.

She didn't think she'd killed the man, but she could. He wasn't moving, but she thought he was still breathing at least.

If she killed him, what would that make her? She had gotten away, so would killing him be murder or an extended form of self-defense? She had no police to go to, no services to ask for aide, no bystanders to convince to help her. In the before, perhaps killing him would've made her a murderer, but if there were no laws, were there murderers? Ivy's mind was racing too much to dive deeply into this thought.

The man still did not get up.

She drew out the blade again and her anxiety grew.

Ivy did not have much time to make a decision. If she ran, he could follow. If she killed him, he could have others who would follow.

But no, she hadn't seen anyone. And no one had come to his side as he screamed. If anyone was with him, they weren't looking out for him; they would not seek revenge.

He was alone.

Soon, she would be too.

Ivy approached the man with her knife.

The man stirred.

(Prompt by ChatGPT)

"Maria Ramos Urban Interface 2" by the U.S. Fish & Wildlife Service Southwest Region