The chilling night wind nipped Alex’s face as he reached the outside. It felt colder than before, as if the temperature dropped drastically. In response, he tugged at his popped collar, keeping it close to his pale neck. Thankfully he brought the damn thing too. It was a bit costly, too; Zoey had mentioned that the quality fabric came from somewhere in Europe. However, Alex never really needed it as he lived in a much warmer California. He was definitely grateful now. However, despite all of that, the air itself was unnaturally dry. Cinder and ash wafted in the air, lingering on his clothes. He wondered how many fires had broken out and how much damage was done to the city. Was it salvageable? He didn’t know.

A slight movement from the corner of his eyes caused tiny goosebumps on Alex’s shoulders. Keaton inched toward Lyra, crouched behind a damaged midnight-blue sedan halfway on the sidewalk. She was looking onward, northbound, to where a small shopping center was. The street eventually ended there, and going south was also not really an option. As Alex followed slowly, his eyes wandered, ensuring those carriers were nowhere in sight.

So far, so good, he thought. But even so, his face slowly fell, and he grimaced. It was too weird. They’re back outside, on what looks to be another main road, and… nothing? Not even that odd, shrieking creature was to be seen. But a strange feeling washed over him, like he was being watched.

Alex crouched beside Keaton, nearly close enough to feel his body heat. It practically radiated off of him, like an invisible gas cloud that stopped the temperature in its tracks. Alex curled lower lip, jealous; Eric could also do that with his much larger frame. He would often toy with the subject of cuddling, too. He shook his head, focusing away from those thoughts and toward Lyra, who’d been eyeing something off in the distance.

Keaton frowned slightly at her. “Why are we hi—”

“Look it,” whispered Lyra, cutting him off. “Up there.”

She had pointed her thin finger toward the rooftops in the far-left corner. Two humanoid-looking silhouettes stood by the edge. For a second, they appeared to be roughhousing. At least, that’s what Alex assumed. However, his widened eyes could only take in so much. Whatever they were, they had vanished, jumping back onto the roof and out of sight.

“The fuck were those?” Keaton’s deep voice burst.

Lyra flicked her eyes to Alex. “Whatever made those shrieks, I think that was them.”

Oh no! Alex’s heartbeat thumped loudly in his chest. He was sure anyone could hear it if it weren’t for his uneven breathing.

“I can’t tell where they’re headed or what they’re doing.” Keaton glared and then cocked his head.

“Hopefully, they’re going far, far away from us.” Lyra stood up.

They were in a rut. With those things on the loose, they had to take extra caution. Did we let them out? Alex wasn’t sure. But he knew he didn’t want to mess with them, especially since there were two. Though he only heard one, assuming there weren’t anymore was a mistake. Stay out of their way, and we’ll be fine. He turned to the left, wondering if they could take an alternate path to the shelter. He then squinted and spotted several SWAT vehicles that completely blocked off the road going south. Jeez, we can’t go anywhere.

“South is a no-go; the only way forward is north,” whispered Alex.

“Fan-fucking-tastic,” Keaton groaned as he stood up as well. “Oh, great, and look at that—dead bodies to fill a sea…”

Alex nearly jumped to his feet, glancing at what Keaton had said. He was right, and there were several corpses scattered throughout the road and adjacent shopping center. But that wasn’t all. With the help of the street light, Alex could see golden glistening bullet casings everywhere. This place was a last stand. A slight chill ran up his spine as the faint scent of musky gunpowder cringed his nose. I hope whoever was here prior got to someplace safe.

“Alex, Cloonan Street is fucked everywhere. North is blocked too—look at the cars.” Keaton pointed. His face looked hard, irritated at the constant delays. “Shit!” His fists were clenched, turning ghostly white.

At this rate, he’d likely explode from anger.

Alex blinked, surprised. Keaton didn’t appear to be the type to get upset, especially when the situation wasn’t so bad. But then a thought rose in his head. The man had been surviving this infection since it happened. Sure, even Alex witnessed a few roadblocks, but how many had Keaton? He couldn’t let his friend snap. The night had just begun. But honestly, he was at a loss for what to do. And considering what happened with Eric, he’d likely escalate the situation.

Thankfully, Lyra was quick to react. She brushed her hand against Keaton’s forearm, gently soothing him. “Let’s keep our cool. We can pass through the flower shop over there. I believe they have a side alley that leads to the next street.”

The two stared at each other longingly as if they were old friends. A slight twitch flicked Alex’s lower right eyelid. Jealously, no doubt that was the case. It’d been long since he’d expressed that type of trust with someone. And although he got to visit Zoey whenever he could, her new life would no doubt be a challenge. And she wants kids, Alex scoffed. At least Eric was in his life—he wasn’t alone.

Alex lowered his eyes. Eric, were you—?

“Aight,” Keaton coughed slightly. You take the lead; I’ll watch your back. Alex, at my six.”

Alex nearly fell back, his stomach tied in knots at those orders. He had to admit it was impressive, preventing a man from having a total freak out. The pretty girl had some power, after all. Hmm, Alex pushed his tongue into his cheek, thinking. Once he was finished, he nodded and raised his handgun.

The shopping center was just an open square of arranged old, brick-style buildings. A couple of bushy trees were implanted into the center median to give an aesthetic to the surrounding buildings. Despite that, Alex found more trash and abandoned bloody tattered clothes on the ground. A few shopping carts were scattered and discarded; the closest one had a bloody, mangled thing inside. It was difficult to tell what it was exactly, but the dark blood that stained the metal left a sour taste in Alex’s mouth. He looked elsewhere; the walls of several stores had been tagged with many graffiti marks. Some were random signs, but others had words such as Get out carriers near and Help us please!

As he continued, a light wind brushed against some of the trees, allowing their leaves to sing peacefully. It would be heavenly to Alex’s ears if it weren’t for the distant alarms of cars and sirens going off; the occasional popping of gunfire and mini explosions also unsettled the soundscape. There are still other people out there. I hope everyone is managing somehow.

He kept his footing, balanced and slow, as he meandered north through the land mines of the undead. For now, they had remained silent. But he knew they were likely playing dead. He’d seen it before and wouldn’t fall for it again. The street continued past the small shopping center and, at the furthest point, looked like it turned left. The last of the buildings, four in total, had only three marked alleys that separated them. The one at the far-left corner was merged into its adjacent. As he turned to look at the rest, one caught his eye instantly. A dirty white car had backed in and crashed into a small store. Unfortunately, it didn’t make it far into the building, giving him a full view of the front half. Blood splattered across the broken windshield, and the mangled body had several large pieces of glass poking out of them. Their eye socket had been pierced with a large metal rod. Alex averted his vision, not wanting to witness anymore.

Lyra reached the closest alley and pressed on one of the gates. She turned around and shook her head. Locked, great.

“I wonder if we go through there,” Alex jerked his head to the right middle building, closest to the street, “we might get lucky.”

Oddly, the soft monochrome gray that painted the store was undisturbed. Unlike some others, the windows weren’t broken or barricaded up. Alex shrugged. He didn’t really care and chalked up the reason being that the owners likely just left it. As Alex moved toward the glass-framed door, a crow cawed in the dark trees, startling him; it then quickly jumped out and flew off into the distance. These damn birds, he thought.

Alex finally pushed open the door and walked in. While his gun was aimed, he swayed his arms from left to right. The room was rectangular, with the register on the far left on top of a glass counter. The longer back wall had shelves and empty, broken pots. At the far end of the left side was another door with a green exit above it. A sigh of relief escaped his lips. There were no zombies inside. However, there were two dead people pushed up against the lower right corner of the store. It was an unfortunate sight to see; matching bullet holes caved into their skulls. Suicide, darn.

A sudden feeling of worry washed over him. He thought of Eric and how unusually upset he was earlier. He did know that man had endured a lot in his life; Eric wasn’t weak; he could handle it. Although, what if it was too much to bear? Whatever had been eating away at him had to be something serious. And the fact that he even talked to Alex about his feelings was a big red flag; Alex needed to get home—to see him. You idiot, no wonder why he wants you there more often. But he wouldn’t… He couldn’t…

At this point, he wasn’t sure of anything.

“What is this place?” Keaton asked abrasively.

Alex turned around, shaking his mind free from those thoughts. Eric had to hang in there, at least for a little while. At the moment, Alex needed to focus on securing his safety.

“It’s a flower shop,” responded Lyra, stepping in last. She locked the door and pushed a thick bag of potting soil in front.

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“…Don’t look like a flower shop.”

She shrugged. “Someone must’ve stolen all the flowers. I dunno.”

Alex ignored them and took a closer look at the two corpses; they were likely trying to survive but couldn’t take the madness anymore. A youngish-looking boy and girl huddled next to each other and rested peacefully. The boy had wavy dark hair and wore a thick blue hoodie, while the girl wore a dark red letterman jacket. Her auburn hair glistened in the store light, though Alex wondered if it was due to her own blood. They both had their matching backpacks left to the side. Keaton seemed happy as he whistled while darting over.

“Dude…” Alex whispered. A small knot formed in his stomach as he watched. Stealing was wrong, sure, but grave robbing was something else entirely. He didn’t feel good as Keaton waved him off.

“Can’t let their stuff go to waste—yes! A free flashlight, and they had ammo!” Keaton looked over his shoulder, smirking as he held up three thin magazines. “Thirty bullets, all for you.”

He was hesitant, but the ammo did look desirable. There was no guarantee that he’d find any more rounds, and even though he’d spared plenty, Alex would likely have to use them eventually. He reached, glaring as he took the two magazines and pocketed them.

“This is wrong,” Alex stated firmly. His intense stare narrowed to the back of Keaton’s head.

“Whatever it takes to survive, Ali-boy.” Keaton shifted through the backpacks some more. “We’ve got ammo for you too, Lyra… Lyra?”

Both men turned, fearing the worst. But there she was, standing at the far end of the shop; her back was turned, and she seemed to be fidgeting with some device.

Alex nabbed Keaton’s spare magazine and walked over to her. As he drew near, faint static rattled out from the machine. It must’ve been a radio that she’d been messing with, as a woman’s voice burst through the static. He handed over the magazine and listened quietly.

“…The report on the Riverlands City disaster will begin at nine. All citizens should remain indoors and away from anyone exhibiting signs of aggressive behavior. This is not a drill—The police have already established roadblocks on major routes to prevent the infection from spreading… Everyone in neighboring cities should prepare for evacuation…”

“So, the police have the city on lockdown?” Alex raised his brows, his green eyes rounded. More importantly, why are they asking us to stay within the city? Is my home being evacuated, too?

“Jeez. We’ll probably need to find alternative routes if we wanna escape,” Lyra shook her head. “And hopefully, the infection stays local.”

“Lyra?” Alex whispered. However, it was loud enough for her to turn with a puzzled look. He continued. “Do you think this will spread beyond the city?” He hoped she would’ve taken a bit longer to respond, but she prepared the question herself.

When she spoke, she maintained a clear and concise tone. “I don’t believe it will. So long as the government doesn’t pretend like it doesn’t exist—we’re lucky actually; the town is relatively smaller and very isolated.”

“We can worry about all of that once we’re safe in the shelter,” Keaton said. He looked ready to move on; his face had softened, likely satisfied with the looting.

“Any guns?” Lyra asked. She then fixed her white hoodie, tightening the sleeve-knot. Alex narrowed his gaze at her adjustments; he hadn’t realized she also had a gun holster attached to her thigh, as well as a leather belt bag that hung loosely on her hip.

Keaton responded, “Just one, no mag though. I ain’t keeping it—don’t have the space.”

“Damn, handgun it is.”

“Yeah, Terry’s models are fucking amazing—sorta pissed I don’t get to use it.”

“Oh, that guy?” Lyra scoffed. “I remember having to pull a bullet out of his thigh two years ago at the hospital. He would not stop complaining about the experience.”

“Who’s that?” asked Alex.

“Just a gun store owner by the police station,” explained Lyra. “He’s a total nerd who does nothing but objectify women on the Internet all day.”

Keaton’s face struck aghast. He spoke up, straining his voice. “No, he is not; he’s a gun specialist who crafts the models.”

“Mkay? Same thing.”

“Lyra, that man is a godsend when it comes to building gun blueprints. He invented Silver Spirit and even worked on Kazeshini. He’s literally the best of his time.”

Lyra flicked a finger. “I don’t know what any of that means, but he sounds like a nerd.”

Keaton waved her off, no longer interested in conversing. Despite them both arguing like children, Alex couldn’t help but smile to himself. It was adorable watching two strangers act like long-time friends. When we get out, we should all go drinking and bowling. Enjoy a night of freedom.

“Alex, here, take this.” Keaton then stood before him and placed something heavy in his hands.

Looking concerned, Alex glanced down and found a knife sheathed in leather. The hilt was black, and the sheath was a matching leathery gray. A small strap with a shiny gold button held the knife in place.

“Is this uh…?” Alex was too stunned to speak. Keaton merely gave an affirming nod.

“Yeah. Now listen,” Keaton’s tone suddenly changed. “If someone—anyone—grabs you and I can’t get to you, I want you to take that knife and jam it right into their skull. Okay?”

Would this thing really save me? I guess maybe, in a pinch, I could use it to protect myself. Alex nodded.

“Good,” confirmed Keaton. “I got one too, just in case.”

Keaton then turned around, allowing Alex to see. The holstered knife was resting at an angle on his lower back, attached to his belt. Alex took him and did the same, securing it behind his left hip.

“There, now you look like a real badass,” Keaton smirked.

“Don’t feel like one.”

A thunderous rumble shook the earth. It sounded mechanical and intensely vibrated Alex’s head. He nearly collapsed onto the chairs, trying to resist the sound. Outside, a small but increasing dust tornado started whipping around random dirt particles. The rumbles increased in frequency as well.

“What the hell is going on!?” Keaton asked, his hands covering his ears.

“An earthquake!?” Alex shouted. He joined the club, cupping his ears as well. The intense vibrations shook his body to the core. He could barely stand; his body was petrified, and his vision started to blur.

Lyra looked up; her face hardened to a scowl. “That’s no earthquake! It’s coming from above us!”

Is it... a helicopter? Alex thought briefly. It was too much to take; the vicious vibrations petrified his body and caused his insides to feel numb. He ground his teeth and scrunched his face tightly.

Then, a heavy static vibrated through the air, and a man’s loud, echoing voice came out. Despite the helicopter’s rotor blades viciously slicing through the air, Alex could still hear the pilot’s grainy voice.

“Everyone in this vicinity—please evacuate to the Riverlands police station! A rescue team is on its way!”

“The police station?” Lyra repeated, rubbing her inner ears. “That dip is really out there hollering to everyone?”

The pilot repeated his message as the helicopter flew away. Finally, the intense vibrations ceased, allowing Alex to uncup his sore ears. His head still ached from the noise, but he was grateful he wasn’t directly outside.

“Where even is the police station anyway?” asked Alex.

“It’s, uh, nowhere near where we’re going,” replied Keaton.

Lyra quickly rushed over to the window and peered outside. She kept an intense glare at the fleeing helicopter. If looks could kill, Alex was sure the pilot would die. She scoffed, finally turning around. “Asshole really had to do that right over us.”

“And that’s bad because—?” Alex silenced himself as soon as he heard it. The withering screams of the undead left the trio in silence. No way, that bastard, he seriously brought them to us!?

It wasn’t long before the group of zombies finally appeared, roused from their suspicions. Their growling squeals were barely audible through the windows, though Alex knew they were starving from their snarling faces and attempts at scratching and smacking up against the glass.

The zombies outside then started to batter the windows, leaving behind dark splotches and newly formed cracks. They knew fresh meat was just within reach. They were sitting ducks with no way out.

Oh no! Alex gulped; his lower jaw started to chatter. Not only that, but his legs began to shake, too. He was struck with fear as his heartbeat formed an irregular pattern.

Then, another cacophony of feral shrieks went off outside. Alex had heard them before, back in the coffee shop. They were almost demonic cries, unlike anything the zombies could produce. Sinister, like nails on a chalkboard, they stung Alex’s eardrums. It had to be that thing…

“Alex was that…!?” Lyra’s eyes were wide, her brows high; she gasped, slowly backing up against the wall.

But before he could even answer, larger cracks began forming on the windows. Bits of shards started to break off, causing Alex to gasp. No way!

“The pressure!” She yelled. “The glass won’t hold forever; we need to go! Now!”

“Oh shit! They’re breaking in!” Keaton shouted, clenching his jaw.

“Let’s head through the back door!” Lyra called out.

The window finally gave way and shattered, sending large glass shards flying. Alex covered his face, cowering back so as not to get a face full of broken glass. Their voracious moans of starvation bellowed out of their grotesque, blood-stained mouths. The tattered clothes, several bite marks, and soulless white eyes were too much to take in. But Alex only had one thought as the zombies lunged with vicious delight.

Run!

He then made a break toward the exit door when gunshots erupted. It was likely Lyra covering for them, but Alex couldn’t tell as once he shifted his arms away from his face, a thick fabric suddenly appeared. Alex slammed hard into a muscular chest as a familiar cedar smell filled his nostrils. He then pulled back, using the forearm as a support. Keaton stood tall, glaring at the zombies as he fired with a single hand.

“Alex, we gotta go!” Keaton yelled through the gunfire.

The gun’s flashes illuminated the shadows outside, revealing that more zombies had stumbled through the ally. Their lustful moans, craving flesh, synced well with the sounds of raining bullets. They looked similar, decaying flesh and ripped skin revealing rotten organs and bloody bones, yet their faces differed. Some of them had their faces ripped off, others just noses, but despite this, Alex could still see what they used to look like, who they used to be.

They were people, survivors of this infection that got caught and were—and were… eaten.

“Alex!”

Keaton shook him, trying to break him free from his trance. But Alex didn’t move. He was practically petrified. No matter where they went, those things were always there. Alex shut his eyes shut as his body trembled.

“No worries! I’ll carry you out!”

Alex gasped, nearly jumping backward as sudden weightlessness overwhelmed his senses. With the ground vanishing behind his feet and the quick whiplash of movement, he could only feel the warmth of Keaton’s body. Then, Alex came face to face with a large red wall.