The setting sun cast a blood-red glow on the asphalt as Tommy steered the van off the highway.

Micky leaned between the seats. “Where we heading now?”

“Somewhere to lay low for the night,” Tommy said, eyeing Roxy’s van in the side mirror.

Laila stared ahead, her expression taut, her gaze fixed on something in the distance.

“Over there, dude.” Jimbo pointed to a thicket of trees just off the road.

Tommy eased the van into the shadows, branches scraping against the sides. As they came to a stop, a hush fell over them.

“Alright, let’s get set up.” Tommy clambered out of the driver’s seat and surveyed their makeshift campsite. The others followed suit, stretching cramped limbs and stifling yawns.

“We need to keep quiet tonight,” Tommy said. “No more drama, yeah?” Tommy nodded towards the darkening woods. “There’s no telling what’s lurking out there.”

“Or who,” Micky said with a shaky voice.

Tommy eyed him for a long moment. “You alright, man?”

“I’m running low.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Methadone’s all but gone.”

“Damn.” He’d promised to look out for Micky, but their supplies had been left in the van they traded. “We’ll find something. Promise.”

“Better hope so,” Micky muttered, stalking away to help Roxy.

Tommy watched him go, a heavy weight settling on his chest. He knew Micky’s addiction threatened not just the band, but their very survival. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to abandon his friend, even as the world crumbled around them.

“Tommy,” Spike said, pulling him from his thoughts. “Help me with Zero?”

“Course.” He forced a smile and, together, they eased Zero onto a makeshift bed of blankets and jackets.

Spike dragged a sleeve across his brow and gazed up at the encroaching night. “Thanks.”

“You look exhausted.”

Spike snorted. “I feel it.”

“Then get some rest.”

“But…” He gestured to Zero.

“We can take turns looking out for him. At least he’s passed the worst.”

Spike nodded. “You’re right. Can’t think properly when I’m like this.” He clapped Tommy on the shoulder. “Thanks, man.”

“Don’t mention it.” As Spike clambered back inside, Tommy surveyed their makeshift campsite, the two vans parked in a crescent formation.

He glanced at Zero. His pallid face was etched with pain. “How you feeling?”

“Been better. But I’ll survive.”

“Damn right you will,” Roxy said, draping a blanket around his shoulders. “We’ll make sure of it.”

“Thanks,” Zero whispered.

Tommy watched as each bandmate took turns checking on Zero over the next few hours, ensuring his comfort and offering words of encouragement. In the end, they were more than just a group of musicians—they were family.

“Done!” Nix grinned up as the flames took hold at the campfire.

“Good job,” Tommy said. “Now let’s get some grub sorted, yeah?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Nix said, rummaging through their supplies. “Oi, I found some tinned beans! Anyone fancy a gourmet dinner?”

Roxy laughed. “Ooh look at you with your five-star cuisine. Such a sell-out.”

Nix set to work cooking the beans as the others took their seats around the fire.

“Don’t look into the flames,” Zero said from his place propped against the van. “It’ll screw with your night vision.”

“Good point,” Micky said, turning his back to the flames.

Tommy’s eyes lingered on Laila as she stared into the night. He longed to reach out, to offer solace and understanding. But in the end, he knew that each of them was locked in their own private battles—struggling to find a way forward amidst the wreckage of their lives.

“Food’s ready,” Nix said. “Bon appétit.”

Roxy flashed a wry smile before digging into her meal.

“Here’s to another day alive,” Spike said, raising his plate in mock-salute.

“Cheers to that, dude,” Jimbo said. Beside him, Zero winced as he shifted.

Tommy found himself wondering how long they could keep going like this.

“Tomorrow,” he said, forcing the words past the lump in his throat. “We should head east through the Rockies. Keep away from the main roads for a while.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Roxy said. “Better than nothing.”

Tommy added wood to the fire, his thoughts drifting to Niamh and Sean.

The embers of the fire glowed, casting flickering shadows on the solemn faces huddled around it. Tommy stared into the flames, their hypnotic dance a stark contrast to the cold reality that loomed over them all.

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“Can’t say I ever thought I’d see the world go to crap like this,” Spike said, his voice barely audible above the crackle of burning wood.

“None of us did,” Tommy said..

“Hey,” Roxy said. “At least we’re still kicking, right?”

“Right.”

“Roxy, you sure about watching tonight?” Zero asked. “You look knackered.”

Roxy looked around. “Who doesn’t?”

“Fair point.”

“I’ve got it covered,” she said. “I’ll keep an ear out for any trouble.”

“Appreciate it.”

“It’ll be fine. It’s just rocks and trees out there.”

“Yeah,” Jimbo said. “Better than hordes of rotting corpses.”

“Or dodgy doctors.” Micky said.

“Give it a rest, Mick,” Tommy snapped.

“Dude, seriously?” Jimbo placed a hand on Tommy’s shoulder. “We’re all just trying to get through this.”

Tommy puffed out a breath. “I know, man. Sorry.”

“It’s cool. We’ve just gotta keep focused.”

“Are we gonna make it?” Micky asked.

“Damn right we will,” Tommy said, forcing conviction into his voice. “We’ve come this far, haven’t we?”

The fire flickered, casting a warm glow over the group. Roxy rose from her seat, stretching her arms above her head as she surveyed the surrounding trees. “I’ll take the first watch.”

“Mind if I join you?” Tommy asked, pushing himself to his feet.

“Suit yourself.” She grabbed her machete from the van and strode towards a nearby rock that offered a vantage point.

As they settled into their positions, the night air hummed with the distant moans of the undead.

“Keeping off the main roads, huh?” Roxy’s lips quirked. “You really think that’s a good idea?”

“I don’t know anymore.” Tommy picked around the handle of his baseball bat. “All I know is we can’t keep doing what we’ve been doing. We can’t lose anyone else. This whole thing’s so screwed up.”

“Guess you’re right.” She sighed, her fingers absently tracing patterns on the rock. “Just getting tired of running, you know?”

“Me too. We’ve lost too much already.”

“Damn straight.” Roxy turned to him, their eyes meeting in the firelight.

In that moment, Tommy felt the pull—an undeniable connection forged in blood and loss.

“Rox,” Tommy began, hesitating as he searched for the right words. “We’ll find a way through this.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” He gave a determined nod, willing himself to believe it.

“Do you mind if I ask you something?”

Tommy shrugged. “Shoot.”

“Does Laila have a problem with me?”

“Laila?” A deep crease furrowed Tommy’s brow. “No. Why?”

“She completely ignored me when I tried speaking to her earlier. Has she said something?”

Tommy shook his head. “It’s not you. She’s…I don’t know. She’s been quiet with all of us. I guess she’s been through a lot. We all have.”

Roxy tugged her lip ring and nodded. “I guess.”

“Trust me. You’ve not done anything wrong. It’s like she’s gone into herself. I’m worried about her.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear that.”

Tommy turned to her and cocked an eyebrow.

Roxy held up her hands. “I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just glad I’ve not done anything. I know I can come across as a bitch sometimes, but I’m really not.”

“We’re all dealing with stuff. It’s fine.” He placed his hand on hers and forced a smile. “I get it.”

Roxy look down at his hand for several seconds before he withdrew.

“I’m sure therapists will be rolling in it once this zombie crap’s done with.”

Tommy chuckled. “Yeah. It’s like—” A rustling in the nearby bushes cut off his words.

Tommy leapt to his feet, scanning the darkness for any sign of the undead. Beside him, Roxy brandished her machete, her eyes narrowed.

“Everybody stay sharp!” Tommy’s heart pounded in his ears.

Micky emerged from the van wielding the shotgun. “Thought we were safe here.”

“Safe?” Tommy sniffed. “We’re never truly safe. Not anymore.”

“Tommy’s right,” Roxy said, her voice low and steady. “We can’t trust anything or anyone in this world.”

As the seconds ticked by, the tension grew thicker.

Tommy swallowed hard, praying that whatever was lurking out there would reveal itself soon. “Show yourself!” he shouted into the darkness, his voice echoing off the surrounding trees.

The warm handle pressed into Tommy’s palm, its weight a reassuring anchor in the face of an uncertain threat. Eyes scanning the darkness, he could sense his bandmates bracing for whatever might emerge from the shadows.

“Spread out,” he whispered, taking a tentative step forward. “But stay close, and watch where you’re pointing that thing.”

“Got it,” Micky said, his jaw set with determination.

Tommy strained to listen. He searched the darkness for any sign of movement, half-expecting a horde of zombies to burst forth at any moment. But there was nothing—only silence, thick and heavy.

“Maybe it was just the wind,” Roxy said.

“Or maybe not,” Micky said.

“Shh!” Tommy fixed his gaze on a patch of shadows near the treeline. “There!”

A small squirrel darted into view, scampering across the forest floor before disappearing back into the underbrush.

“Jesus.” Micky let out a laugh, sagging with relief. “It’s just a bloody squirrel.”

“Better a squirrel than a dead-head,” Tommy said, allowing himself a small, shaky laugh.

“Or worse,” Roxy said. “At least we know it wasn’t one of those bastards.”

“True. But let’s not let our guard down.”

“Never do,” Micky said as he strode back towards the van.

Tommy and Roxy settled back into their lookout positions.

“Could’ve sworn I heard something bigger,” Tommy said, peering out into the woods.

“Me too.” Roxy’s grip on her machete tightened. “Let’s just hope it was only that squirrel.”

Tommy scanned the tree line, watching for any signs of movement. The minutes crawled by at an agonizing pace. Somewhere in the distance, an owl hooted, its lonesome cry echoing through the night.

Tommy shivered, only partly from the chill air. “How much longer till dawn?”

Roxy checked her watch, tilting it to catch the firelight. “Couple more hours at least.”

Tommy suppressed a groan. He blinked hard, trying to banish the lingering firelight from his vision. He couldn’t afford to lose focus. Not now.

Beside him, Roxy shifted on the rock. Though fatigue lined her face, her eyes remained alert, darting ceaselessly over their surroundings.

“You should get some rest. I’ll take the next watch.”

Roxy shook her head. “I’m good.”

“You sure?”

“I’ve survived this long, haven’t I?”

“Alright, alright.”

They lapsed back into silence. Tommy’s eyelids grew heavy. He pinched his arm, using the pain to anchor himself in wakefulness.

A branch snapped.

Tommy jolted upright, gripping his bat. Beside him, Roxy’s eyes locked on his.

“You hear that?”

She gave a terse nod.

Tommy crept towards the treeline, Roxy close behind, weapons poised to strike. He squinted into the woods, searching for the source of the noise.

Another crack echoed through the trees, louder this time. Closer.

He exchanged a glance with Roxy.

She tilted her head towards the woods, brows lifted in question.

Tommy nodded.

Together they slipped between the trees, moving silently.

Shadows engulfed them.

Tommy struggled to see even a few feet ahead. He stuck close to Roxy, relying on her footsteps as a guide.

She slowed to a stop, holding up a hand.

Tommy froze. He peered past her shoulder, barely making out a shape lumbering through the trees.

A bear maybe? Or something worse?

He met Roxy’s gaze. She nodded towards the shape then tapped her machete.

They flanked the thing, keeping ample distance between them. Tommy could hear its heavy footfalls and guttural grunts.

Moonlight filtered through the canopy, faintly illuminating the shape’s rotted flesh and tattered clothes.

Tommy’s breath caught. A zombie.

More shapes shuffled behind it, at least a dozen strong.

Roxy backed away, eyes wide. She waved a hand, signalling retreat.

Tommy turned to run, only to find more zombies staggering from the trees, cutting off their escape.

He had to warn the others.

Tommy bolted back towards camp as stealthily as he could, Roxy on his heels.

Bursting into the clearing, Tommy ran straight for the van, throwing open the back doors.

“Wake up!” He shook Jimbo’s shoulder. “We’ve got to move. Now!”

Everyone jolted awake, confusion clouding their faces.

“There’s a horde. We need to move.”

Spike jumped out of the van. “Where is it?”

“No time to chat,” Roxy cut in. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

Tommy and Roxy piled into their vans.

The engines roared to life as growls filtered through the trees.

Tommy stomped down on the gas, peeling onto the road just as the first zombies emerged from the woods.

He pressed the pedal to the floor. The van shot forward into the unknown, leaving the horde behind.

But for how long?