CHAPTER LX
There was a time when I used to beg God to take away my doubts — to clear my heart of questions, to show me a path bathed in certainty. And now… here I am, silently praying for a handful of those very doubts to return. I'm asking for uncertainty, for the chance — even the slimmest one — that maybe, just maybe, not everything is lost. That perhaps somewhere, in some corner of this collapsing world, my friends, my team… my love… are still out there. Still alive.
My eyes snap open.
The screen in front of me glows with a cold, flickering light — and all I see are zombies. A sea of the undead, lifeless eyes and twisted limbs crawling across what used to be a stronghold of hope. There's no sign of my team. No trace of my friends. And the one face I long for the most… is missing from the screen.
Gone.
Everyone… gone.
Panic slams into me like a wave, crashing through every corner of my chest. Where did they go? What happened here? Was there a breach? A fight? A rescue attempt that failed?
Are they safe?
Are they even… alive?
No — no. My mind refuses to believe it. My heart claws desperately at hope, refusing to let the darkness win.
It can't be. Not like this.
Not without a goodbye.
Not without a sign.
I stagger back from the screen, the weight of fear pressing down on me like a thousand stones. My breath catches — shallow, sharp, as if the very air is turning against me. Tears threaten to rise, but I push them down. Not now. Not yet. I can't break.
Because if they're out there… if even one of them is still holding on…
Then so must I.
Somewhere in this chaos, in this godless storm, I will find them. I will tear through every wall, scream into every silence, fight through every living nightmare… until I know the truth.
Because love — real love — does not vanish without a trace.
And this story?
It's not over yet.
The room I was in had become a cage — a last fragile shelter against the nightmare clawing at the world outside. And now, even that was crumbling.
I could hear them.
The undead.
Zombies — dozens of them — their guttural groans growing louder as they gathered just outside the door. Their fists slammed against the wood with relentless force, over and over, until the entire frame shook. They were trying to break in. To get to me.
And I… I was trapped.
My heartbeat thundered in my ears as the sound of splintering wood began to echo louder — closer. I knew it was only a matter of time. Minutes… maybe seconds. I pressed my back to the farthest wall, eyes fixed on the door, breathing ragged and shallow.
Then suddenly — gunfire.
Loud. Close. Terrifying… and yet, strangely comforting.
And then… silence.
I blinked.
The door, once trembling under the weight of the undead, now stood still. But it was stained in blood — so much blood. It trickled down in dark, sticky streaks, seeping into the cracks, pooling onto the floor.
My heart froze.
And just as I was about to take a trembling step forward, the lock clicked — snapped open — and the door creaked inward.
I didn't move.
I didn't breathe.
My eyes stayed locked on that blood-soaked entrance…
And then I saw them.
August.
And behind her… Aurora.
Alive. Breathing. Bloodied, but standing.
I couldn't believe it. A sob clawed at my throat, but all I could whisper was, "August…?"
She stepped in, urgency flooding her voice.
> "Sam! We don't have time for reunions — this place is crawling with the dead. We need to get out of here. Now!"
But my mind was spinning. "Where's my team?" I asked, my voice cracking.
August hesitated, just for a moment. Then she said, carefully,
> "Most of them are okay… but Mahi—" she swallowed hard. "Mahi got bitten. We couldn't save her."
No.
My legs nearly gave out beneath me. Mahi… She was the heart of our team. Her laugh, her courage — gone.
And then… August's voice hardened. Her next words hit me harder than any zombie bite ever could.
> "The others… they left you behind."
I stared at her. "What… what do you mean?"
She looked me in the eye, her jaw clenched.
> "They said it was better this way. That your death would be a relief for everyone. They called you a walking omen. A curse."
My breath left me.
That pain — that betrayal — wasn't new. But hearing it again, now, in the middle of all this… it cut deeper than ever.
I forced the words out, though my throat was tight. "Was Mon… was she there when they said that?"
August didn't even blink.
> "She was the one who said it."
I felt something inside me shatter — quietly, completely.
Mon. The one person I thought would always fight for me… had chosen to give me up instead.
August stepped forward and gripped my hand, snapping me out of the fog.
> "We can talk about this later. Right now, we survive."
I nodded, barely. My legs moved on instinct as we began to flee, the scent of blood and betrayal thick in the air.
Behind us, the room fell silent again — a grave of ghosts, of friendships gone cold, and promises broken.
But ahead… was still a chance.
A chance to live.
To fight.
To rise.
Even if no one believed in me anymore… I would.
I had no weapon.
Not even a broken stick to cling to, not a single blade or gun to hold onto. All I had were my hands — bloodied, bruised, shaking… but still mine. And with them, I fought.
We were so close — just steps away from escaping that godforsaken house, the very walls of which reeked of death and memories that I wanted to forget. August was leading the way, Aurora right behind her, shouting directions, scanning for threats. I followed, breath ragged, heart thudding so hard it felt like it might break free from my chest.
And then I saw it — my bag.
It lay abandoned in the corner near the hallway — half-zipped, stained, but intact. Everything important was inside: my ID, medical supplies, a few photographs, and… a note from Mon I could never throw away. I couldn't leave it behind. Not now. Not when everything else had already been stripped from me.
"I need my bag," I shouted over the chaos.
"Sam! Leave it!" August yelled back, panic in her eyes.
But I had already turned.
The house groaned around me as I sprinted toward it — the hallway darker now, eerily silent.
But silence is never a good sign in a world full of the dead.
Because just as I reached down to grab the strap — I felt them.
Zombies. Three… no, four of them.
Closing in. Fast.
Surrounding me like vultures.
For a breathless moment, I froze — fear clawing up my spine, my pulse screaming. But then… something else took over.
Survival.
I snatched up a nearby chair, heavy and rusted, and with a desperate scream, I swung.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Each blow sent pain shooting through my arms, but I didn't stop. Not until they were down — unmoving piles of rotting flesh at my feet. Blood splattered my face, hot and sticky, but I didn't flinch. I just wiped my hand on my sleeve, grabbed my bag, and ran.
August and Aurora were waiting at the door, eyes wide with shock and relief as I burst through it. I didn't even say a word — just nodded once. Let's go.
Outside, the night was darker than it had any right to be.
A car stood there — engine running, the driver's side door swinging open. But as we climbed in, I saw it.
Blood.
The front seat was drenched in it — as if someone had bled out completely, right there behind the wheel. The sight turned my stomach, made my hands tremble, but I forced myself in.
We had no choice.
Aurora took the wheel. August slammed the door shut behind us. And just like that, we were speeding into the unknown — away from the house, away from the death we'd left behind… and into a world that may have already forgotten how to be kind.
None of us spoke for a while.
We just drove.
Three souls bound not by hope, but by survival — our hearts still pounding, our wounds still fresh, but alive.
And right now… that was enough.
To be continue....