The pain was sharp and surged through with each hurried step. Warm and wet blood soaked into torn clothes, fingers slick with the thick flood. The urgency pressed harder with each passing second. But there was no guarantee of making it.
Rushing through the streets, the rain lashed her face, making the world blur. Endless pouring rain fell like thick, blinding sheets, each drop subtly catching a flicker of the moonlight before it crashed on the broken pavement. Cold and indifferent, the moon watched from above, offering no guidance in these dark and shapeless alleys — unrecognisable under the weight of rain. Yet somehow, she knew the way.
Her clothes clung to her skin. She was utterly drenched, and the cold crept deeper into her bones. Just a few more meters. The building was close now; she knew it. Its worn and battered storefront was ravaged by looters from the Beginning and barely put together afterwards, with wood and nails. A cryptic cross, its bulbs long dead, hung menacingly overhead.
They were probably out there, looking for her already. The downpour muffled her footsteps, but someone was bound to hear her sooner or later. She needed to get to safety and warmth quickly. But first, she had to take care of the wound. A fleeting moment of relief came as she let her shoulder against the door, her body trembling as she caught her breath. Shards of broken glass still held around the wooden frame like the teeth of a monster; the pain flared again as she pushed it open.
It was dead silent inside. She prayed that no one would interrupt her. Let me have just a moment. She rummaged through the darkness, fingers fumbling across dusty shelves, desperately looking for anything that might help. Gauze. Painkillers. Antibiotics, if the world had any mercy left to offer. She found a dusty package hidden beneath a pile of discarded boxes. Gauze. The plastic wrapping still sealed.
She tugged her shirt up; the fabric caught in the wound made her wince. The opening was on her abdomen under her ribs, where her right kidney was supposed to be. If it were injured, at least she would have another one. Blood oozed fresh and thick, spilling over her jeans. The tear stretched wide across almost half her belly. And the gap was wide. Too wide. Fear was rising faster than she could push it down.
Hot and silent tears blurred her vision as they mixed with the rainwater dripping from her face on wet crimson jeans. She pressed her hands to the wound, shaking, her mind spinning. She was terribly frightened and now confident she was going to die. The world outside had never been kind, but she had fought for everything. Only the cold remained now. She wanted to lay down. To let the pain and exhaustion take her.
She had had to fight for as long as she could remember. Growing up in a world where people only took — where men saw women as “resources” and claimed the restoration of mankind justified their cruelty. She never had much interest in restoring humanity. The only humanity she’d ever known was miserable and vile. From what she could recall, or what little she had learned, it hadn’t been any better Before.
She had often dreamed of escaping this place. Escape the grasp of those who clung to the past’s twisted ideals. She cared for a few people — she might have taken them with her had the situation been different.
Deep inside, something fierce and burning refused to let her give up. Resentment. A sudden burst of adrenaline and anger coursed through her, hot and blinding. She gritted her teeth and pressed the gauze hard against the wound. She wrapped the bandage tightly around her waist and pulled the knot firm despite her trembling fingers. It had to hold.
#
The growls of motors reverberated through the night as beams of light cut the rain-soaked air. They scanned the darkness like predators. Rain would grant some cover, but she had to move fast. They had sent three, maybe four, Humvees. This part of the city wasn’t big. It was only a matter of time before their searchlights locked onto her.
An influx of adrenaline had helped numb the pain, but every step sent a sharp sting through her wound, torn skin threatening to rip wider. She bit her lip, drawing blood, trying to focus. Her destination wasn’t far — a heavy green metal door set into a thick concrete wall. A wall stretched far and wide around the neighbourhood, which had once been built to keep Evil outside. Failing to protect anyone from the one inside.
She had wanted to laugh bitterly when she had first learned the truth about this place, the rot beneath the surface. Tell them all to go fuck themselves and everything they stand for. But they didn’t just want her gone — they wanted her silent. And now, they’d stop at nothing to ensure she was out of the picture.
The rain poured harder, pounding like fists on her back. Voices echoed through the downpour — angry orders carried on the wind. They were intent on her demise, hunting her, closing in. She wasn’t about to let them catch her this easily. I’m getting out of this hell. But somewhere inside, she feared she was running towards another one.
She turned a corner sharply, her vision blurry. She caught a glimpse of a shadow moving. Frozen in place, she clenched her muscles despite the pain. Her heart pounded, the blood rushing in her ears. For a second, the pain in her side flared so intensely that she thought she might collapse.
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She ducked behind a rusted bin, knees trembling, forcing her breath to slow. It was one of them. Maybe he hadn’t seen her, but he was coming her way, his steps echoing against the walls of broken houses. She could go back — he would surely see her now — or wait for him, try to fight. I’m too weak for that now. Her best bet was to remain hidden in the dark.
She inhaled slowly. One… two… three… Through the hiss of the rain, his footsteps were drawing closer, a heavy tread splashing in puddles. One… two… three… He muttered under his breath, cursing the weather close to where she hid. One… two… three… Her muscles seized in pain, her stomach clenching against the agony as the last remnants of adrenaline drained from her. One… two…
The man passed her. His figure loomed and faded meters away. She could make out the parka he wore, slick and dripping — a spectre stalking her through the storm.
She shifted her weight. One… two… THREE—!
Pain exploded in her side. Violent agony seized her entire body. She gasped, stifling a scream, but the sound slipped out — a strained whimper through clenched teeth.
“HEY !”
His voice pierced the night.
She didn’t look back. She was running.
#
The water rose steadily, swirling around her ankles, each step a struggle against the current. Shards of debris — wood, stone and metal — floated past, competing in a silent race she couldn’t win. She had managed to get rid of him in the maze of streets, but she stayed vigilant. I’m sure a wet, injured prey isn’t hard to find. It was sheer luck she’d made it this far. Her body held together out of sheer defiance, but the real challenge lay ahead. They would be waiting for her at the door.
Her thoughts fractured, trying to process the chaos around her, even as it gnawed at her focus — exhaustion and blood loss clouding her senses. Through the rain, she spotted a figure standing in the distance, calling to her. “Look at you all beaten up… Did you get into trouble again?” It asked, gently scolding. The voice was familiar — warm, comforting. It belonged to someone she had loved. Someone long gone. Yet there they were, standing like an echo from the past.
A raindrop hit her eye, dragging her to the present. The door. Once she crossed it, they would stop chasing her. They wouldn’t even dare approach it. It was forbidden, impure, a token of Evil. For her, though, it was salvation. Truth be told, she had no idea what lay behind. Some spoke of a desolate land filled with monsters, others of a labyrinth of broken buildings inhospitable and unforgiving. Maybe none of it was true — she would find out soon enough. If they let me. Until then, they’d keep chasing her; they’d rather be sure she was dead — once and for all.
Ironically, they might still get their wish. She knew her chances were shrinking by the minute. Leaping over broken barricades, she got reminded of it. “You should rest. You look exhausted, darling…” the voice came again, coaxing. Just leave me alone. The bitter irony wasn’t lost on her. Once, she had longed for the opposite. She remembered waking up alone one morning. The bed was cold and empty — the scent of coconut as a remnant of them. A final argument the night before had sealed the deal, like a signature on a divorce paper. A last dance.
The motors had been killed, and the streets were silent now. Slowing her pace, she crouched low, keeping to the darkness. The door was ahead. Almost there. She reached for her bag, grabbed a small rusty tool from a pouch, and slid it in her sleeve. Without the injury, she might have been able to rush to the door and avoid the ambush, but now, there was only one thing she could do.
Hands in the air, she strutted towards the door. “I know you’ve got me surrounded,” she called out, awaiting their answer. “Let’s talk.” Figures emerged from the dark after a moment of silence. Even now, as she was battered and unarmed, they hesitated. They feared her.
“We thought you’d keep running…” a voice bellowed beside her. Briggs… She hadn’t expected him to be there, the memory of their last encounter still vivid. The harbinger of her fall.
“No, I’m done running!” she gestured to the wound in her side. “You’ve already won, dumb-ass!”
He smiled — a creepy grin she used to find charming. “I’m sorry it had to come to this.”
“You,” he pointed to one of his men, “restrain her.”
A young man with red hair approached cautiously, uncertainty flickering in his eyes. He was scared. Good. He pulled a rope from his belt, rolling it in his hands. Briggs should have sent someone confident, someone stronger. Her gaze locked on him — this was the moment she had been waiting for — the hunt.
As he reached her, she struck. Her rusty blade pressed against his neck as she moved behind him in a flash, wrenching his arm behind his back. He barely resisted, fortunately. “Stay with me, pretty boy” she whispered. “We’re going to dance a little”.
Now she was the one grinning — Briggs’ smile had vanished. His men shifted nervously, gripping their weapons as if they were shields. She strolled around them, her eyes scanning them. “We don’t have to do this,” Briggs said, his voice trying for calm. “You can come with us. We can make a deal,” he offered. “You’re not gonna make it in your condition. Olivia asked us to bring you unarmed…”
That name. It cut through her like a blade. She didn’t want to hear it. He was trying to manipulate her, but it wouldn’t work. Not this time.
She moved backwards, dragging the red-haired boy with her. He was squirming unwillingly. The others watched her, paralysed with indecision. The boy waited for them to save him. “Drop the rope and your knife,” she ordered, “and maybe I won’t slit your throat.”
He obeyed.
“Now, when I push you, run straight towards your little friends. Understand?”
He nodded, his face pale with fear.
“Nice knowing you, Briggs,” she called out, her voice as cold as her. “I hope you dream of me coming back.”
With one swift motion, she shoved the boy forward. He stumbled but ran like a good soldier. Grabbing the discarded objects on the ground, she bolted to the door. The handle was icy cold against her palm. She was shaking. And now for the final act. She turned the other way. “Ask him,” she shouted at Briggs’ minions, “ask him how they know what’s outside!”
The door groaned as it swung open; she stepped through, swallowed by darkness, the voices of her pursuers fading behind her.
It was dry inside, but her head was spinning — a violent fever burning through her body. Trying to anchor herself, she reached for something. Her fingers brushed a stone wall and slid downwards as her legs gave out beneath her. She hit the ground but couldn’t feel the pain anymore. I did it. Lying on the cool concrete, she dreamed of her bed. The scent of coconut and the touch of Her hand. A wave of sadness and longing — then a dream.
***