The girl floating in the murky water blinked—something zombies weren’t supposed to do. Jack’s stomach twisted with guilt at the thought of leaving her behind. He cupped his hands around his mouth and called out, his voice echoing across the desolate swamp.

“Can you hear me?”

She didn’t react, her gaze fixed on the gray sky above. The stillness of her body unsettled him. Jack’s eyes drifted to the greenish water swirling around her. It didn’t seem to harm her skin, even as it bubbled faintly, like acid ready to dissolve anything alive.

He hovered his hand over the surface, hesitating before finally dipping his fingers in. Pain shot through him instantly—a sharp, searing sting—but when he pulled his hand back, there was no visible damage. That only made it stranger.

He clenched his fist, deliberating, his pulse racing. She was floating; surely, she could swim, right? But her lack of response suggested otherwise. Jack tried calling out again, louder this time.

Still nothing.

With a frustrated sigh, he shrugged off his backpack and left it on the bank. The water churned around him as he waded in, every nerve in his body screaming in protest at the sting. It felt like swimming through a thousand tiny needles, but he forced himself onward.

When he finally reached her, she didn’t resist as he grabbed her arm and started dragging her toward the shore. Her head turned slowly, and she gave him an empty stare, her eyes glassy and unfocused, like someone in a trance.

Jack hauled her out of the water, collapsing on the muddy bank as he caught his breath. His entire body stung from head to toe, but he ignored the pain. Instead, he turned his attention to the girl, who lay eerily still beside him.

The young woman sat upright, her gaze fixed on Jack with a confused expression. Jack coughed lightly, his chest still tight from the effort of dragging her to shore. He turned to face her, brushing damp hair out of his eyes. She didn’t say a word, just stared at him in silence.

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“Can you speak?” Jack asked, his voice cautious.

The girl hesitated, her hand slowly lifting to scratch her head. Jack tried again. “Do you have a name?”

Her eyes lit up at the word name, recognition flickering across her face. She nodded eagerly, her movements awkward and jerky, like a puppet brought to life. Then, in a halting, strained voice, she said, “Name… me… name, Aurora.”

Jack blinked, caught off guard by her strange reply. Her words were disjointed, almost childlike, and a creeping concern settled over him. Was she mentally impaired?

He pressed on, lowering his tone. “Aurora… Do you have family? Friends? Where are they?”

Aurora’s face twitched slightly, as though she understood, but the words to respond seemed to elude her. After a long pause, she finally murmured, “Aurora… alone.”

Jack frowned, the weight of her answer settling in his chest. Alone. The word seemed so final, so absolute.

But his own problems quickly reminded him of their urgency. The stinging sensation across his skin grew worse with every passing moment, like thousands of invisible needles prickling him all at once. He winced, running a hand over his arms, but it did little to ease the discomfort.

He let out a sharp breath, forcing himself to refocus. “Alright,” he said, his voice softer now as he looked back at Aurora. She didn’t respond, just kept watching him with that same confused expression.

Jack stood, his legs shaky beneath him. He had to deal with this stinging before it got worse. And then there was Zoe. Quite some time had passed since he’d left her, and he needed to make sure she was okay.

He walked back to where he had left Zoe, finding her half-awake and half-dozing, her rifle cradled tightly to her chest. Her posture was slumped, but her grip on the weapon hadn’t loosened for even a second. Behind him, Aurora followed cautiously, her bare feet crunching against the dirt. The sound made her wince as though even that was too loud for comfort.

The moment Zoe’s half-closed eyes flickered open, they darted to Aurora. A sharp intake of breath escaped her lips, and in a heartbeat, she moved. Her fingers gripped the rifle with an intensity that sent a shiver down Jack's spine.

“Zombie! Jack, MOVE!” Zoe shouted, her voice cracking with urgency.

“No! Wait, Zoe!” Jack thrust his hands up in a defensive gesture. “She’s not—”

But Zoe wasn’t listening. Her instincts had already taken over, and her trembling finger pressed against the trigger.

The rifle cracked, its deafening roar splitting the silence.

Jack froze as time seemed to stretch into eternity. His eyes snapped to Aurora, who staggered backward, recoiling from the impact.