ZEKE
Zeke woke up. He didn't want to wake up anymore.
After what happened with his girlfriend, he felt broken. Empty. He couldn't do anything. He wanted to die — but he couldn't. Wouldn't. Because of her last words:
"Live for me."
She had been bitten.
She knew what was coming. So she took the gun, walked into a room of the house they were staying in, and ended it herself before she turned. It had been five days.
Zeke hadn't stopped running since.
Once, on the road, he heard people screaming for help. He didn't stop. He didn't even look. There was nothing left inside him. No hope. No reason.
At least, that's what he thought—until he remembered: Ivan.
My brother… Ivan. I have to do it for him.
He didn't always treat Ivan the way a brother should. He barely even acted like Ivan existed. But Zeke knew Ivan was still alive. He'd seen him once, with some of his friends. They looked happy, like they had found a way to live through all of this. That had been enough for Zeke to walk away before. But now?
Now, it was the only thing keeping him going.
Zeke got on his bike and drove, chasing something—hope, maybe, or just the chance to matter again.
After hours of travel, he spotted movement ahead. A person? A man? Or maybe just another rotten?
He slowed down, squinting into the distance. It looked like a child, small and alone on the road. Zeke's heart squeezed. He couldn't just ride past a kid. Was the boy crying?
He called out. "Hey! Boy! Come here!"
The child turned around.
Zeke's stomach dropped.
It wasn't a boy. It was a rotten.
He could've sworn it had been crying, even talking. But now, its face twisted into a grin. Then it spoke again—words, actual words: "Human… kill."
Zeke froze. What the fuck…?
It smiled wider, and Zeke stepped back, adrenaline surging.
No way. Not another one. Didn't the others kill it?
He'd heard of something like this before. A type of leader rotten. Smarter. More dangerous. One that could call other rotters. This one… it was like that. It had some twisted version of intelligence.
Zeke's instincts screamed at him to run—but he didn't. He reached for his pistol. Before he could fire, the rotten screamed, a horrible, echoing sound. Without hesitating, Zeke fired.
The creature turned and started running away, yelling "Help… help…" in a warped, mocking voice.
Zeke fired again. The second shot dropped it.
He stood there, breathing hard. The last one of these things had killed over 300 people. This one? He didn't know how many it had gotten to.
He barely had time to think before the moaning started. Loud. All around him.
They were coming.
Rotten. Hundreds—no, thousands.
Zeke jumped back on his bike and sped off, the engine roaring. But they were everywhere. From ahead, behind, the sides.
One jumped onto the bike—Zeke swerved and shook it off. Another one lunged—he shot it in mid-air. They just kept coming.
Too many.
He left the road and tore through the forest, weaving through the trees, mud flying from his tires. He didn't stop for anything. For over an hour and a half, he kept riding, his arms aching, his head pounding.
Eventually, just as his strength was giving out, he saw something ahead.
A wall. Wooden. Reinforced.
A settlement.
It was hidden deep in the woods, far from the cities and highways. Whoever built it had planned well. It was remote, maybe even safe.
Zeke slowed down, staring at it. He had no food. No water. Barely any ammo.
Should he go in?
He remembered the leader rotten again—how it had smiled, how it spoke.
Was it evolution? Were they changing? Getting smarter?
Zeke didn't know. But the thought chilled him.
He rolled up to the entrance. A man on guard spotted him immediately and pointed a gun.
"Drop your weapons," he ordered.
Zeke hesitated for a second—then obeyed. Slowly, he laid his pistol on the ground.
He didn't know if they would let him in.
He didn't know if he even belonged anywhere anymore.
But he was alive. And maybe that meant something.