Tommy’s eyes fluttered open, the harsh sunlight filtering through the van’s windows, and he winced as he sat up.

He expected the familiar pounding in his head, the sour taste in his mouth, but the hangover had cleared.

“Where are we?” Tommy asked.

“Just entered the campus,” Roxy said. “Figured it was worth a shot to look for supplies here.”

“What campus?”

“Missouri. We’re in Columbia.”

Tommy nodded, taking in the stillness of the surroundings. The buildings loomed silent, their windows dark and empty.

Roxy steered the van towards the central quadrangle, parked, and killed the engine.

“Alright, everyone,” Zero said. “We don’t know what we’re walking into here. So stay sharp, stay together, and if you see anything suspicious, don’t hesitate to speak up.”

There were murmurs of agreement as they gathered their weapons and supply bags, preparing for the task ahead.

Tommy’s gaze lingered on Laila, who had barely spoken a word since they’d left Kansas City. Her face was drawn, her eyes haunted.

Zero took the lead as they made their way towards the cluster of administrative buildings. “We check the registration office first. Could prove a potential goldmine of keys and maps.”

“Good thinking,” Tommy said.

Reaching the building, they found the doors unlocked. They filed inside, flashlights sweeping over the desks and filing cabinets.

“Check everywhere,” Zero said. “Desk drawers, cabinets, anywhere they might have stashed something useful.”

Tommy set to work, rummaging through the abandoned office.

“Guess they didn’t keep a stash of snacks in here,” Jimbo said.

They moved on to the science and technology department. The sound of their footsteps echoed off the bare walls.

Zero entered the lab first and gestured for Tommy and the others to follow.

Roxy made a beeline for the cabinets, her machete at the ready. “Jackpot.” She held up a bottle of rubbing alcohol. “Found some bandages and antiseptic, too.”

They moved from lab to lab, their haul growing slowly but steadily.

“Let’s keep moving,” Zero said. “We’ve got a lot of ground to cover.”

Zero led them to the student union. But as they approached, a sense of unease settled over the group.

The building was darker than the others, the windows boarded up from the inside. It was clear that it had been used as a shelter at some point, a refuge for those fleeing the horrors outside.

Tommy shook his head at the trail of blood, telltale signs of someone being dragged.

He moved cautiously, his flashlights sweeping over the shadowed corners. Every sound seemed amplified in the stillness, the creak of a floorboard or the rustle of fabric.

“This way.” Zero gestured towards the cafeteria. “Keep your eyes and ears open.”

Tommy followed him into a storeroom, to find the shelves lined with canned foods, soda, and potato chips.

Roxy and Jimbo stuffed their packs, while Zero and Tommy stood sentry at the door.

Laila stared at nothing.

“We should head back,” Roxy said. “We’ve got enough to last us a while, and I don’t like the feel of this place.”

Zero shook his head. “We keep looking.”

Roxy glared at him. “I say we quit while we’re ahead.”

Zero glanced at Tommy. “What do you say, Tommy boy?”

“I think we should at least check the library.”

Roxy frowned. “The library? What the hell for?”

Tommy shrugged. “I don’t know. But it’s worth a shot. Maybe there’s something there that can help us. Maps, survival guides, I don’t know.”

Zero grunted his agreement, his rifle held at the ready as he scanned the shadowed hallways. “Tommy’s right. We can’t afford to leave any resource untapped. Let’s check it out.”

Tommy followed the others as they made their way out of the student union, their footsteps echoing hollowly in the empty building.

As they stepped out into the sunlight, Tommy blinked, his eyes adjusting to the sudden brightness. The campus stretched out before them, a vast, sprawling expanse of buildings and walkways.

In the distance, he could just make out the shape of the library, its towering facade unmistakable.

“That’s where we’re headed.”

The others fell into step behind him as he set off across the quad and approached the library.

The entrance had been fortified, makeshift barriers and boards covering the windows and doors.

“Looks like someone’s been busy,” Jimbo said.

Zero signalled for quiet and scanned the building.

They crept closer, sticking to the shadows and staying alert.

Roxy pointed to an upper window. “Looks like someone’s there.”

Tommy could just make out a shadowy figure behind the translucent barricade. He turned to the others. “Let me try something. Wait here.”

Ignoring their protests, Tommy stepped out into the open, his hands raised. “Hello? Is anyone there? We don’t mean any harm. We’re just looking for supplies.”

Silence answered him.

Then he noticed movement behind the barricade.

The figure in the window vanished.

Urgent voices came from inside.

Tommy waited.

The library door creaked open a crack. A wary face appeared, the barrel of a gun visible in the shadows. “That’s far enough. State your business.”

“We don’t want any trouble. We’re just looking for supplies. Food, medicine, anything you can trade.”

The man’s eyes narrowed, his gaze flicking from Tommy to the others. “For all we know, you could be raiders, here to take what’s ours.”

“We’re not here to steal from you.” Tommy took a step forward, his hands still raised. “We’re not here to cause any problems. We’re just trying to survive, same as you. If you can’t spare any supplies, we understand. We’ll move on.”

The man lowered his pistol and took a step forward. “If you’re not raiders, who are you, then?”

Tommy glanced back at the others. “We’ve been on the road since this thing started, trying to get back to our families on the east coast. We’ve lost…we’ve lost a lot of good people along the way.”

“We’ve all lost someone, in this new world of ours.”

Tommy nodded. “We don’t want to take anything from you. But if you can spare anything for trade, any food, or medical supplies, we’d be grateful.”

The man turned to the others behind him. There was a murmur of conversation, too low for Tommy to make out.

The man turned back to Tommy. “We can spare some supplies. But we need something in return. Our defences are strong, but they could be stronger. If you’re willing to help us fortify the library, shore up our walls and barricades, we can give you some of what we have.”

“Sure. We can do that.”

The man nodded, a flicker of a smile crossing his face. “I’m Dr. Jameson. I am a professor of history here. We’re just trying to keep each other safe, and preserve what knowledge we can.”

“I’m Tommy.” He gestured to the others. “This is Roxy, Zero, Laila, and Jimbo.”

Dr. Jameson led them inside, the others falling into step behind him. The library was a maze of shelves and stacks, the musty smell of old books thick in the air. “We’ve been collecting books. Textbooks, manuals, anything that might be useful in rebuilding society. We figure that knowledge is the key to survival, in the long run.” He paused in a small clearing between the shelves, turning to face the group. “Before we get started, we have some ground rules to establish and roles to assign.”

He gestured for Tommy and his companions to follow him as he made his way to the centre of the library, where a group of students had already begun to assemble.

Dr. Jameson cleared his throat. “As you can see, we have some new faces joining us today. This is Tommy and his group. They’ve agreed to help us fortify our defences.” He turned to Tommy and the others. “However, I need to make one thing very clear. If there’s any trouble, any disruption to the order we’ve established here, I’m afraid you and your friends will have to leave. We cannot afford to jeopardise the safety and stability of our community.”

Tommy stepped forward. “We understand. We’re here to help, not to cause problems.”

“I appreciate that, Tommy. Now, let me explain how we’re going to proceed.” He turned to address the students once more. “Each of you will be assigned to work with one of our new allies. We’re all in this together, and the only way we’ll survive is by working as a team.”

A few of the students shifted uncomfortably, their gazes darting between Tommy’s group and Dr. Jameson.

One young man raised his hand. “Are you sure this is a good idea? We don’t know these people. How can we trust them?”

Dr. Jameson fixed the student with a stern look. “I understand your concerns. But we’ve discussed this before. Our survival depends on our ability to adapt, to forge alliances with those who can help us.”

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The student nodded, his expression still uncertain.

Dr. Jameson turned back to Tommy, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Thank you for your patience, Tommy. I know this isn’t an easy situation for any of us. But I truly believe that together, we can create something extraordinary here. Something that will endure long after the last of the monsters have fallen.”

Tommy wiped the sweat from his brow as he hefted another heavy wooden desk, his muscles straining with the effort. Beside him, a student grunted as she adjusted her grip, her face set in a determined grimace.

“On three,” she said. “One, two, three!”

Together, they lifted the desk and carried it across the library floor, navigating the maze of desks and shelves.

Around them, the other survivors worked in teams, hauling furniture to shore up the barricades.

Dr. Jameson stood at the centre of the chaos, barking orders, and directing traffic. “You there.” He pointed to a lanky young man with a mop of curly hair. “Take that shelf and wedge it against the front doors. We need to reinforce the entrance.”

The young man nodded and hurried to drag the shelf across the floor with the help of another student.

As Tommy and his partner set the desk down against a window, Zero appeared at their side, his eyes narrowed as he examined the barricade. “No, no, no. That’s not going to work, Tommy boy.”

Dr. Jameson looked up, his eyebrows raised. “Is there a problem?”

Zero gestured to the desk “This is too flimsy. One good hit from a zombie and it’ll splinter like kindling. We need something sturdier, like metal or concrete.”

Dr. Jameson frowned, his hands on his hips. “We’re working with what we have. We don’t exactly have a surplus of building materials lying around.”

Zero shrugged, his eyes scanning the room. “Maybe not, but we can improvise. See that metal shelving unit over there? You could dismantle it and use the pieces to reinforce the windows.”

“Alright, fine. But we need to work quickly. We don’t know how much time we have before the next attack.”

“Leave it to me, Doc.”

Over the next few hours, Tommy lost himself in the work. He hauled desks and chairs, dismantled shelves and bookcases, and hammered nails into boards until his fingers ached and his arms trembled.

As the last of the barricades fell into place, the survivors stepped back to survey their handiwork.

The library was far from impenetrable, but it was a damn sight stronger than it had been just a few hours before.

Dr. Jameson clapped his hands together as he looked around at the assembled group. “Well done, everyone. You’ve all worked hard today, and it shows “

“Don’t mention it, Doc,” Zero said. “We’re just doing what needs to be done.”

Dr. Jameson nodded. “But still, we couldn’t have done this without you. You’ve given us a fighting chance, and that’s more than most people have in this world.”

The sound of shattering glass and splintering wood echoed through the library.

Tommy whirled around to see a group of armed raiders pouring through the shattered barricades. “Everyone, get ready to fight!”

The library survivors scattered, some grabbing weapons while others fled deeper into the stacks.

Dr. Jameson shouted orders.

Zero was already in motion, his rifle raised and his eyes hard. He moved with a fluid grace, weaving between the shelves, and taking aim.

A man charged at Tommy, a knife glinting in his hand.

Tommy swung his bat with all his strength, feeling the satisfying crunch of bone as it connected with a raider’s skull.

The man crumpled to the ground, his knife clattering to the floor.

Tommy caught sight of Roxy, her machete flashing as she carved a path through two men. And Jimbo, hurling books with reckless abandon.

Tommy gritted his teeth. They had to fight, had to stand together against this threat. There was no other choice.

He charged forward, his bat swinging in a wide, vicious arc. The impact of each blow shuddered up his arms.

They were quicker than the undead, prone to dodges and feints.

A scream pierced the air.

Tommy whirled around to see Dr. Jameson crumpling to the ground, clutching his side as blood seeped between his fingers.

There was nothing anyone could do.

Tommy’s gaze fell on Zero, who was crouched behind an overturned table. Tommy sprinted over, dropping to his knees beside him.

“We need to do something. We can’t let them overrun us.”

Zero glanced at him, his eyes hard. “We need to force them into a bottleneck. If we can lure them to the main entrance, we might have a fighting chance.”

“Okay.”

Zero grunted, already moving. “I’ll take the left flank, you take the right. The others can hold the centre.”

Tommy sprinted back into the fray, his bat swinging with renewed vigour. “Everyone, fall back to the main entrance. We’ll make our stand there!”

The others responded with shouts, falling back towards the towering wooden doors.

Tommy could see Laila in the midst of the fighting, swinging the tyre iron with a savage efficiency.

He skidded to a halt, spinning around to face the oncoming raiders.

“Hold the line!” Zero said. “Don’t let them through!”

The others fanned out beside Tommy, their weapons at the ready.

And then the raiders were upon them.

Tommy swung his bat with all his strength.

Beside him, Zero smashed his rifle butt against a raider’s jaw, sending the man sprawling.

Roxy was a blur of flashing steel, her machete carving through the raiders’ ranks. Jimbo swung his golf club in wide, crushing arcs.

Movement flickered at the edge of his vision as a pair of raiders broke away from the main horde, circling around to flank them from the side. “Zero! On your left!”

Zero whirled around, his rifle snapping up to his shoulder.

A cry struck Tommy’s ears, high and sharp with pain.

Roxy staggered backwards, clutching her arm.

“Roxy!” He tried to push forward, to reach her, but the raiders were too many, too strong.

A sudden sharp blow exploded against the back of his head.

The world spun, his vision blurring as he stumbled forward.

He heard shouts, screams, the harsh bark of gunfire. And then the ground was rushing up to meet him, hard and unyielding.

Darkness engulfed him.

Tommy awoke to the sound of muffled voices, the acrid scent of smoke and blood thick in his nostrils. He blinked, wincing at the throbbing pain in his head as he struggled to sit up.

He found himself on a pile of blankets, his clothes sticky with sweat and grime. Around him, the shattered remains of the library stretched out in all directions.

“Easy.”

Tommy looked up to see Zero crouching beside him, his face streaked with soot and blood. “You took a nasty blow to the head. Might have a concussion.”

Tommy reached up, gingerly probing the back of his skull. His fingers came away sticky with drying blood. “What happened?”

“We drove them off. But not before they did their damage.”

Tommy looked around. “Is everyone…”

“We’re good, Tommy.”

Tommy’s gaze found Laila sitting apart from the others, her knees drawn up to her chest and her face buried in her arms. She rocked back and forth, her shoulders shaking.

Tommy tried to push himself to his feet, his head spinning with the effort. But Zero held him back.

“Give her space. She’s been through a lot.”

Roxy sat against a nearby wall, her arm bound in a makeshift sling. Jimbo lay sprawled on the floor nearby, his golf club clutched to his chest, his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.

And the library survivors, lay scattered among the debris, injured but alive.

Tommy let out a shuddering breath, his chest tightening. This was his fault. People were dead. People were wounded.

He pushed himself to his feet, ignoring the throbbing in his head and the protests of his battered body. “We have to go. We can’t stay here. It’s not safe.”

Zero nodded. “We’ll gather what supplies we can, bury the dead. And then we’ll move on.”

Tommy looked over at Laila, still huddled in on herself, lost in her own private hell of grief and trauma. His heart ached for her, for the pain and the loss that she carried with her.

But there was nothing he could say, nothing he could do to ease her suffering. All he could do was keep moving forward.

He wandered through the shattered remnants of the library, his feet crunching on broken glass and splintered wood. The once pristine halls were now a war zone, the books and shelves torn and scorched.

His mind reeled with the images of the day, the screams of the wounded and the dying echoing in his ears. He’d seen death—too much death.

But this was different. This was human violence, raw and brutal and senseless.

He found himself in one of the offices, the door hanging off its hinges and the windows shattered. The room had been ransacked, the desks and filing cabinets overturned, their contents strewn across the floor.

He drew the bottle of whiskey from his pack, its amber liquid glinting in the fading light.

He unscrewed the cap. He raised the bottle to his lips, the liquid burning his throat as he swallowed.

It was a mistake, he knew. A momentary weakness, a surrender to the darkness.

But in that moment, as the warmth of the whiskey spread through his veins and numbed the sharp edges of his pain, he couldn’t bring himself to care.

He drank deeply, the bottle growing lighter in his hand with each swallow. The world around him began to spin, the shattered remnants of the library blurring into a kaleidoscope of shadows and light.

He stumbled out into the hallway, the bottle clutched tight in his fist. He could hear voices in the distance, the low murmur of conversation drifting through the empty halls.

He followed the sound, his feet carrying him towards the library’s main atrium, the bottle sloshing in his hand.

Laila looked up at him, her eyes widening. “Tommy?” She glanced at the bottle. “What are you doing?”

He shrugged, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. “What does it look like? I’m celebrating our glorious victory.”

Roxy got to her feet and glared at Tommy. “You’re drunk.”

He laughed again and raised the bottle to his lips, taking another long swallow. The whiskey burned his throat, but he welcomed the pain, welcomed the numbness.

Zero stepped forward. “That’s enough, Tommy. You’re not thinking straight.”

Tommy rounded on him. “Oh, I’m thinking just fine, Zero. For the first time in a long time, I’m seeing things clearly.” He gestured around at the shattered remnants of the library, at the haunted faces of the survivors. “This is what we’ve been reduced to. Scavenging and fighting and killing, just to stay alive another day. What’s the point of it all? Tell me, Zero. What’s the point?”

Laila reached out to him, her hand gentle on his arm. “Tommy, please. We need you sober, now more than ever.”

He shrugged her off, his grip tightening on the bottle. “You don’t need me. You never did. I’m just a liability, a weak link in the chain.” He gestured to Zero. “Follow him. He knows what he’s doing. I’m just a useless punk.”

He raised the bottle to his lips once more, but before he could take another drink, Zero’s hand shot out, knocking it from his grasp. The bottle shattered on the floor, the whiskey spilling out.

Tommy stared at it for a long moment before sinking to his knees.

Laila knelt beside him, her arms wrapping around his shoulders. He could feel her tears soaking through his shirt as she held him close.

They stayed like that for a long time, huddled together on the cold, hard floor. The others kept their distance.

As the minutes ticked by, the others drifted closer. Jimbo approached first, a steaming mug of coffee clutched in his hands. He crouched down beside Tommy, offering the mug. “Here, dude. Get this down you. Clear your head.”

Tommy stared at the mug for a moment before reaching out with a shaky hand to take it. “Thanks, man.”

Jimbo squeezed Tommy’s shoulder. “No worries, T..”

Tommy managed a weak nod, sipping at the coffee.

Roxy appeared, a plate of food in her hands. It was a simple offering - a few cans of beans and some crackers.

She set the plate down beside him. “Eat.”

Tommy hesitated, glancing between the food and Roxy’s face. He knew he didn’t deserve their concern. But the gnawing emptiness in his gut won out, and he reached for the plate with a mumbled thanks.

“We should stay here,” Zero said, his voice firm. “Get some rest, regroup, and head out in the morning when we’ve got the daylight on our side.”

The others murmured their agreement, and Tommy found himself nodding along. As much as he hated the idea of staying in this place, he knew Zero was right.

Laila’s arms tightened around him as she leaned in close. “It’s going to be okay, Tommy. We’ll get through this.”

Tommy swallowed hard. He wanted to believe her, to cling to the hope and comfort her words offered. But he had failed them, letting his own weakness get the best of him. How could he ever hope to lead them, to keep them safe, when he couldn’t even control his own demons?

“Thanks, Lai. For everything. For not giving up on me.”

“That’s what family does, Tommy. We stick together, no matter what.”

The morning sun cast a pale light over the library grounds as Tommy and his group gathered with the survivors to bury their dead. The air was heavy with the scent of smoke and decay.

Tommy’s head throbbed with the aftereffects of the whiskey, his stomach churning with nausea and guilt. He stood at the edge of the makeshift gravesite, his eyes fixed on the shrouded form of Dr. Jameson.

Beside him, Laila and Roxy stood in silence, their faces etched with grief and exhaustion. Zero and Jimbo flanked them, their weapons held at the ready, ever vigilant even in this moment of mourning.

One of the students, a young woman, stepped forward to stand at the head of the grave. “Dr. Jameson was more than just a professor. He was a mentor, a friend, a leader. He believed in the power of knowledge, in the idea that by preserving the lessons of the past, we could build a better future. And that’s exactly what we’re going to do.”

Tommy thought of all the people they had lost along the way. Dr. Jameson was just the latest in a long line of casualties, another name to add to the ever-growing list.

The student turned to face Tommy and his group. “We owe you our lives. Without your help, we would all be dead. You gave us a fighting chance, and for that, we will be forever grateful.”

Tommy wanted to tell her that they didn’t deserve her gratitude. But the words wouldn’t come, trapped behind the lump in his throat and the pounding in his head.

Instead, he simply nodded, his gaze dropping to the ground at his feet.

As the last shovelfuls of dirt were placed on the grave and the survivors began to disperse, Tommy felt a wave of exhaustion wash over him. His body ached with the aftereffects of the battle and the alcohol, his mind spinning with the events of the past few days.

He turned to the others. “We should get moving.”

Zero nodded. “Tommy’s right. We need to put as much distance between us and this place as we can. Never know when those raiders might come back for another go.”

They made their way back to the van in silence.

As they loaded the last of the bags into the back of the vehicle, Roxy leaned against the side. “If the roads are clear, we can make it to St. Louis in a couple of hours. From there, we can figure out our next move.”

Tommy climbed into the passenger seat, his head falling back against the headrest.

Zero slid behind the wheel and turned the key in the ignition, the van sputtering to life. He glanced at Tommy. “You gonna be okay, Tommy boy. You’re looking a bit green there.”

“I’m fine.”

Zero nodded. “Well, if you need to hurl. Shout up. This van stinks enough as It is.”

Tommy wrinkled his nose. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”