Grand Riverview

“Vic, it’s time,” Alek whispered, gently rocking her awake.

Sleep was a precious thing, and Victoria had more than earned some rest. But daylight, too, was precious. A resource impossible to control, only treasured when it was there. Today, they would need to join the garage — his proudest work — and the rays that had found their way through cracks in the planks brought the promise of respite. And the urge to get moving.

Victoria stirred on her bedroll, the sunlight caressing her face in a line that stretched over the curve of her nose. She had some charm about her, and when her almond eyes opened, he realised, maybe for the first time, that they were as blue as a clear Spring sky. Only they harboured something deep. Something that wasn’t there the days before. She’s seen some terrible things, he thought, wishing that he had better to offer than pain and fear.

They both got ready to head out, crammed in the dusty storeroom, and Victoria stayed unusually quiet the whole time. Over the years, he’d acclimated to a constant silence, only ever broken by the gurgling of infected. Yet, he somehow expected her to break it with her habitual questions and observations. I’ve grown overly used to her interjections.

The service corridors were bathed in light, and soon, they found their way to a rusty door leading to the shopping centre. It was a place Alek would have stayed far from had the choice been his. Too big a building, too dark the rooms. There were infinite places where unwanted beings could dwell, waiting for the first fool to wander. But it was shorter this way, and he wouldn’t risk stumbling upon the hushed again. Or the horde.

No matter. He’d get them through without so much of a scratch this time.

They slipped into the shopping centre through a side entrance. Wet moss smothered the floor, creeping over shattered furniture, rusty bins and toppled shelves. Despite the weight of her mood, Victoria’s eyes widened as they walked forward, taking in the vestiges of a long-forgotten chaos.

“You know,” Alek began in a hushed voice, “the first time I came here after everything went to hell... I wasn’t alone.”

Victoria turned to him, her brow knitting with curiosity.

“I had heard places like this had been looted beyond recognition,” he continued, carefully stepping around the remains of a display case. “The ones foolish enough to try their luck back then were either desperate or stupid. More often than not, they were beaten and robbed or welcomed with nothing but opened cardboard and empty shelves. Sometimes all three.”

Alek paused by a toppled clothing rack, brushing dust off a faded mannequin. “But after a few months, the situation settled down a little. And something urged me to see for myself.” He glanced at her, gauging her interest before pressing on. “What if there’s still all those supplies waiting for someone to pick it up? What if I found everything I need for the next year and then some?”

Back when I still listened to curiosity.

“That was stupid,” he admitted. “And probably dangerous. At the time, I wasn’t yet so… smart.”

“Oh? And now you are?” she teased, the opportunity too great to pass.

Alek smirked, “Maybe not… But you should have seen me before.”

“Anyway,” he stopped and gestured to the ruined escalators near rusting machinery. “Right about there, I was trying to pry open a vending machine. Some old snack bars inside… And lo and behold, there’s this ball of fur that comes creeping out of the dark.”

Victoria raised an eyebrow.

“A stray cat,” he said. “Skinny little thing. He had started following me around. I thought he was just after my food. But he simply wouldn’t leave me alone.”

“A cat?” Victoria asked, sceptical.

“Yeah. Scrawny, black fur with patches missing. I tried shooing it away, but every time I turned a corner, there it was. Staring at me like I owed it something.” As they climbed the rusty steps, he stared at her with a flicker of amusement. “Except at some point, the little devil started yowling.”

“What did you do?”

Alek shrugged. “I grabbed what I could and ran the hell out of there. Didn’t feel like sticking around for the welcoming committee.”

“And the cat?”

“Never saw it again.” He shook his head. “But for some reason, every time I pass here, I always think about that stupid cat.”

A strange sense of sadness passed over him. “It’s been a while since I’ve last seen any pet...” Alek murmured. “The streets used to be crawling with them if you can believe it.”

Before the disease claimed them, too.

They had reached the top floor, high enough to see the city. The north wall of the shopping centre was a vast glass panel, fractured in places where the wind howled past but still held on by a steel frame. From this vantage, they could see the river splitting the city in two, like a scar that would never fade.

The golden reflection on the rushing waters blinded Alek’s remaining eye, imprinting his iris with a two-dimensional painting of the ruins.

“Here,” Alek said, gesturing towards the Northwest, “this is what I wanted you to see.”

Victoria lingered, hesitant to step forward. But when she finally moved, the view seemed to snare her.

He wondered what she saw in the ruins; Alek could only ever see what had been lost. Stories of a distant past. Perhaps she felt the opposite. Or perhaps she’s reminded of what she left behind.

Alek’s gaze shifted, tracking the river’s path westward.

“You see there?” He pointed towards a bridge in the distance. Its massive structure floated on a misty shroud. Victoria didn’t respond, but her gaze followed his finger, landing on the structure. It was a monument to despair — made not to endure but to delay the inevitable. A sagging weight ready to crumble into the depths. And when it does, countless lives will be lost.

Countless saved.

“A refuge for hyenas,” Alek continued, his voice low. “Fortified on both ends. Guarded day and night. That’s where the scavengers reside. And from where they rule this city. Or at least, they think they do. One day, they’ll be reminded of their place.”

Victoria seemed distant again. He could see the gears turning behind her eyes, questions taking shape, even if they never found her lips.

Alek let the moment fade, defeated. Whatever he had hoped to share had slipped through his fingers.

They resumed their walk towards the nearest shops. Their aisles stretched in depths, their contents swallowed by shadow where the light refused to reach.

Victoria stopped near a storefront and tilted her head. The lettering above was half-faded, but a word still appeared under the grime: Robotics.

“That was the latest trend back then,” Alek said in anticipation. “Helper robots people used to have. Walkers, sweepers, toys, and even pets that could follow basic commands. When those things were still sci-fi pipe dreams, everyone swore we’d never stoop so low — letting a robot do everything for us, down to thinking. It was bound to be a mess, right?” he shrugged at her. What a load of bullshit.

“It didn’t take long,” he went on. “The military developed them, and like everything else, it promised a ton of money once available to the public… And they fought for it. They let it guide their life without any precaution. Abandoning reason for a bit more comfort. For the easiness of it.”

“You sound like you hated them.”

“Didn’t hate them,” Alek said, his tone dismissive. I never hated progress.

He let the weight of his words settle. “I hated the way people accepted it without asking questions. Millions of batteries pumped out. Artificial Intelligence trained on stolen data. That was just… too much. Too fast.”

Victoria frowned, turning back towards the aisle. For a moment, silence settled between them. “Maybe it wasn’t all bad—”

A noise stopped her mid-sentence.

A faint clatter escaped from the shadows. In a fraction of a second, his hand moved to his axe, his remaining eye scanning the darkness. What Alek saw there left him dumbfounded, unable to process the vision.

A figure emerged from the gloom. Small, wiry, and wide-eyed. Stained clothes too wide for him hung in tatters, the oversized fabric clinging to a frame too thin. His face streaked with dirt carried a strange determination, though tears carved wet tracks through the grime.

“Please,” the boy said in a small voice. “I can’t reach it…”

Both Alek and Victoria froze, the tension breaking into confusion. Alek’s grip on his axe relaxed, if only slightly.

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“What?” Alek managed, completely taken aback.

“I heard you talking and…” the boy continued, his voice breaking from the sobs. “I need something, but I can’t reach it…”

Victoria took a cautious step closer. “Can you show us?”

The boy nodded and quickly ran back to where he had appeared.

Something was wrong.

The hairs on Alek’s neck bristled, a feeling sharper than fear. It was certainty. He gritted his teeth, knuckles white against the handle of his axe.

This is a trap.

The silence was too perfect, and the boy’s appearance too timely. Alek’s gaze darted down the aisle where the child had vanished. Scavengers would lay in wait, hidden behind shelves and counters. Weapons at the ready. They were the kind of people who’d use a sobbing child as bait. Their cruelty knows no bounds.

He exhaled slowly, forcing his voice steady. “Don’t.”

Victoria froze mid-step, his fingers curling around her arm. “We can’t go in there,” he hissed, his voice a low growl.

Her jaw tightened. “He’s just a boy.”

Exactly.

“Think.” He tapped his temple with the steel of his axe. “He shows up, asking for help, and you follow him further into the dark. What happens next?”

“He looked scared,” she shot back, her voice unsteady but defiant.

“Maybe so. But we can’t risk it.”

Victoria’s hands clenched into fists, her frustration radiating off her. “What are you suggesting? That he’d attack us?”

“I’ve seen this sort of thing before,” Alek said, his voice softer now but no less firm. For a second, his gaze faltered, caught in the ocean of her eyes. “I know how it ends…”

She wrenched her arm free, the sharpness in her movement matching her words. “Let me go.”

“Victoria—“

“Stay here if you want,” she snapped. “But I won’t—”

“Please don’t fight.”

The boy’s voice cut through the tension, startling them both. They turned to find him standing a few meters away.

“I just need help grabbing it,” he said, squaring his shoulders.

Victoria crouched to meet his eye level, her expression softening. “Are you alone?”

“I’m not alone,” he replied with a hint of defensiveness, as though the question was absurd. “I’ve got Dog.”

“Dog?”

“My friend,” the boy clarified as if it should have been obvious. “He’s hurt. I need a box to fix him.”

Victoria smiled, her hand resting on her knees. “And what’s your name?”

“Milo,” he answered, gaze falling to the floor. “You’re not bad guys, are you?”

“We’re not,” Victoria chuckled.

“I’m Victoria, and this is Alek.” She gestured behind her, her voice dipping into a conspiratorial whisper. “He’s a little bit scared of the dark.”

A soft laugh escaped from the boy despite the tears still clinging to his sunken cheeks.

Without hesitation, Victoria straightened and followed Milo into the aisles. Moments later, they returned, Milo darting ahead, his excitement spilling over in hurried footsteps. Victoria strode behind him, holding a box triumphantly above her head.

“See?” she said, glancing at Alek with a smirk. “Nothing to fear.”

For now.

Alek didn’t entertain her mockery; he only watched her as she set the box down and brushed the dust off her hands.

“So, Milo,” Victoria began, her voice warm, “where are you from?”

The boy hesitated, his gaze flicking briefly to Alek as if sensing the unspoken suspicion before quickly looking away.

“Not far,” he mumbled. “I stay near the big hill, where I watch the city.”

Alek’s expression darkened. “Alone?”

“I’m not Alone!” Milo repeated, crossing his arms. “I have my friend Dog.”

Victoria grinned. “I’d like to meet him, but I’m sure someone takes care of you, right? With food and water…”

“I found food in a big room!” the boy said, almost proud of himself. He gestured with his hands to illustrate its size. “Mom isn’t back yet, but we’re very quiet with Dog.”

“You must be brave,” Victoria said, her tone gentle. “I’m sure Dog is lucky to have you.”

Yeah, about that.

“Dog,” Alek repeated flatly. “Where is he, then? Your friend.”

“Home. I didn’t want to leave him, but I needed something to fix his leg.”

Victoria chimed in. “Is he a robot?”

“No,” Milo said, a crease forming from confusion. “He doesn’t look like a robot. He has four legs and little ears, and he’s all white and very smart.”

The boy swayed on his legs slightly, ending his description.

“Are you alright?” Alek asked, sensing a shift in behaviour.

The boy lowered his voice before answering, suddenly looking embarrassed. “I… need to pee…”

Victoria stifled a laugh, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Over there looks safe.” She gestured toward a far corner of the store. “We won’t look.”

Milo nodded and darted off, leaving Alek and Victoria standing outside the shop.

Alek sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I can see you coming from a hundred miles away.”

Victoria watched Milo disappear behind the shelves, her expression softening. “We can’t leave him like this. He needs our help.”

“Who says?” Alek grumbled. “He’s doing fine on his own.”

She turned to him fully. “He’s a kid, Alek.”

“A survivor,” he countered, his voice low but firm. “Age has nothing to do with it. He probably made it so far by not trusting strangers. And we should do the same.”

Before Victoria could reply, Milo’s voice cut her short.

“Hey! You wanna see my home?”

Alek started, his voice cautious. “No, it’s okay. We probably should go.”

“You can meet Dog, too! He’d like you. Probably.”

Victoria glanced at Alek, her eyes pleading. “Come on, Alek. It’s like with the black cat!”

Alek exhaled sharply, speaking under his breath. “This is a bad idea.”

“It’s not far,” Milo added. “You can leave after if you don’t like it.”

He stared at the boy for a moment, weighing his words. His small frame stood expectantly under the dim light, his scarf hanging slightly askew, a look of curiosity and pleading in his small eyes — eyes as shiny as sunlight.

Alek merely grunted in response.

Victoria grinned and ruffled Milo’s hair. “He’s saying yes! Lead the way.”

Milo led them through the half-empty aisles of the shopping centre, his tiny feet tapping lightly against the ground. Alek stayed vigilant; his suspicion had not yet been lifted. Although the child was probably innocent, there was no telling what kind of attention he could have gotten wandering around the city.

Victoria stayed close, watching Milo as he navigated effortlessly through the maze. They passed through a narrow corridor between rusted doors. Then Milo stopped and gestured towards an opening in the wall.

“It’s this way!” he announced brightly.

Alek froze, his eye narrowing. You’ve got to be kidding me.

There was no way Alek could fit through that. He looked at Victoria, who had probably thought the same. She shot him a wry smile, the faintest shrug of her shoulders conveying, “What did you expect?”.

Alek sighed, scrubbing a hand down his face. His patience, already worn thin, frayed further. “Just go on together; I’ll find another way around.”

“You sure?” Victoria asked.

“Yes, I know where this goes. I’ll join you in a minute; just be safe.”

Despite the certainty in his voice, he couldn’t shake the gnawing doubt. Please don’t let this be a mistake.

His steps retraced in search of another passage, Alek joined the central hall. The sky had dimmed, the sun retreating behind a shroud of clouds.

He picked up his pace, boots crunching over the layers of moss as he passed gutted storefronts. The fading light made everything somewhat more uncertain, and his concern only grew.

A faint hum suddenly rippled through the building, brushing against his senses like a memory.

Alek paused mid-step when it grew louder. Low ripples climbed the walls and sank into the bones of the structure. A disjointed buzz crackled above.

One by one, rows of dim bulbs shuddered awake. Some cast sharp beams while others fizzled and died in pitiful sparks. Alek didn’t trust his vision for a second. Electricity? He blinked hard, half-convinced it was a trick of his tired eye. He had not seen an artificial light come to life in years. Maybe decades.

Before he could process it, a harsh, shrieking wail erupted overhead. The sound made his teeth clench, ricocheting through the halls. Alarms.

He hissed a curse under his breath. The infected would hear it, converging on the centre in a matter of minutes.

And then, as if to mock the chaos, the warped melody of a carousel began to play ahead. Its notes jittered off-key like the machine had forgotten how the song was meant to sound.

The chaos pushed him into motion. Alek started sprinting forward, legs burning as he rushed for the exit.

The first shapes stirred at the edges of his vision. Shadows spilt from the darkened aisles roused from their hibernal slumber. Growls and dragging footsteps said enough. There were dozens. Maybe more.

One broke free from the gloom ahead. A few meters away.

Less.

A rasping snarl erupted as the creature lunged. Alek stopped his race barely in time and swung his axe in a wide arc. The blade struck true but nowhere near where he had aimed — the steel biting deep into the creature’s shoulder instead of its rotten head.

With a grunt, he braced both hands on the handle and shoved hard. The infected’s legs slipped on the slick moss, and it went flying head-first to the ground. The axe had torn free with a filament of sticky blood, and Alek pushed forward.

The jarring symphony continued under the failing lights, and more shapes materialised from the darkness. They were everywhere now, dragging themselves towards him. But that was a good sign.

No sprinters.

Alek ducked past overturned displays and dove into the spinning carousel, the painted horses rising and falling under the strobe lights.

More were coming.

Snarls. Alarms. Warped melodies. The blend of sounds and blinking lights turned the scene into a living hell.

But there — up ahead, to the right — the opening towards the stairwell waited, its door slightly ajar. Alek jumped forward, timing his movement with the revolutions.

Another infected lunged in his path.

He swung the axe downward, the steel cleaving through its chest with a sickening crunch. Bones splintered beneath his weight as he pressed the blade deeper with his other hand. The man-turned-monster crumpled beneath him, and Alek vaulted over the collapsing body.

He shoved through the door and slammed it shut behind him, a hollow clang reverberating down the stairs. They would struggle with the door, so he didn’t linger.

When he turned, something fell from the stairs above. White flesh and torn clothes. The corpse stumbled over Alek in all its weight, slamming him against the door.

The impact drove the air from his lungs. Then, the stench hit him — a fetid breath. The infected snapped its jaw at him, pale skin stretching.

Alek twisted his head to the left, narrowly dodging the bite. A forearm against its chest, he resisted with all his might. The creature was in his blind spot now, but he could feel its breath inching closer from his neck — warm and putrid.

Not like this.

The axe was useless in close combat, but the rage… the rage fuelled him with the energy to fight back.

Alek shifted his stance and shoved hard. The infected staggered back a step but surged forward again, rotting hands grappling for his throat.

Its vicious mouth snapped shut with a sharp clack, barely missing him. But Alek’s hands shot out, grabbing the creature’s face. His thumbs found the sockets of its eyes, sinking in with a disturbing squelch.

Alek roared, fury lending him strength. He twisted the head sharply, the brittle vertebrae cracking with a splintering snap. The sharp sound echoed in the confined space, and the corpse went limp, collapsing at his feet in a heap of twitching limbs.

Panting, Alek staggered, the sharp taste of adrenaline bitter in his mouth. His forearms were slick with dark blood, his jacket shredded where the nails had scraped. But the moment was gone in an instant.

Victoria!

Gritting his teeth, Alek started up the stairs. He could only hope she had made it out in time. Unscathed.

He burst out of the shopping centre, the icy air slicing against his face. He stumbled forward into the open and before him, the world extended in a rush of light and sound. Distant groans, the river’s purr and the muffled shrieks of alarms. None of it mattered. Only one thought consumed him.

Did she make it?

His boots hammered the pavement. Ahead, the stairs came into view, descending steeply towards the riverbank street. Alek veered towards them without hesitation, his pulse an omen in his ears.

And then he saw her.

She sat hunched on a stone step halfway down, her head bowed, her shoulders trembling beneath the weight of silent tears.

“Victoria.”

His chest constricted. For a moment, the world around him dissolved. The chaos receded, leaving only her and the burning space between them.

He made his way to her, each step sharpening the edges of her sorrow — strands of hair spilt over fingers clawing at her face. Her sobs were muffled but raw; they echoed with a pain deeper than any wound.

He stopped a few paces away, his shadow spilling over her.

Below, the river whispered on, carrying away the last traces of sunlight.

What happened? He wanted to ask, but words failed him. The axe slipped from his grasp, clattering against the stone with a hollow thud.

Alek’s gaze swept the empty space around her, an unspoken question clawing at his throat.

Where is Milo?

***