The sound that came from Ed's throat wasn't human anymore.
It was a scream born from pain, anger, and pure heartbreak — a roar that tore through the empty city like thunder.
It echoed down cracked streets, bounced off ruined walls, and filled the hollow air where no heartbeat had existed for years.
And the dead heard him.
From the alleys, from shattered windows, from the dark pits of broken sewers — they stirred. The infected began to move, slow at first, then faster. Their moans rose, mixing into a single awful sound that swallowed everything else.
Ed stood in the middle of the street, chest rising and falling, his bloodied hands trembling. His ribs burned with every breath, but he didn't move. His mind felt empty — maybe this was it. Maybe this was how it all ended.
He clenched his fists, voice rough as gravel.
"Come on… come on, you bastards."
The first infected lunged at him — pale skin stretched tight over bone, eyes rolled white, mouth open too wide. Ed swung his metal pipe with everything he had left. The impact cracked like gunfire.
Another grabbed his arm, jaws snapping inches from his face. Ed slammed his elbow into its jaw, ripped free, and kicked it away. More came, crawling, sprinting, shrieking.
He screamed again — not in fear, but fury.
He fought like a man who'd already died once and didn't care if he did again. Every movement tore at his body. Every breath hurt. But he kept going — because stopping meant death.
Then the world exploded.
A flash of blinding light burst from the street corner — followed by a thunderous BOOM that threw him backward. Fire rolled through the air, swallowing the dead in orange flame. The shockwave blasted dust and glass through the street.
Ed's ears rang. Smoke filled his lungs. Through the chaos, he heard it — faint at first, then clear as day.
"ED!!!"
He froze.
That voice.
"ED! THIS WAY!"
Figures appeared through the haze — running, shouting. Three of them. The one in front — a woman with tied-back hair, dirt streaked on her face — was screaming his name.
Ley.
For a moment, he thought it was a hallucination. Maybe his dying mind was giving him mercy. But then she shouted again — voice cracking, desperate.
"MOVE YOUR ASS, ED!"
Behind her, two others charged into view.
Merry — rifle slung over her shoulder, short hair plastered with sweat.
And Gerald — tall, bearded, hauling a backpack full of grenades like it weighed nothing.
Gerald didn't even slow down. He yanked a pin, hurled a grenade behind them, and another explosion split the air. Fire and smoke rolled down the street, devouring the infected.
"GO!" Ley screamed, waving frantically. "THIS WAY, NOW!"
Ed ran. His legs screamed in pain, his lungs felt like they were tearing apart — but he ran. He crashed into Ley's arms halfway, and she dragged him behind a burnt-out van.
"You idiot!" she shouted, panting hard.
"What the hell were you doing out there?!"
He coughed, a ragged laugh escaping his throat.
"Dying, I guess." Ley smacked his arm hard.
"Not today."
Before Ed could speak, Merry's voice cut through the smoke.
"Less catching up, more running!"
They sprinted through the alleyways. Gerald tossed smoke bombs, covering their trail. The streets burned behind them — fire eating the night. The infected screamed, but their voices faded into the distance.
Ed stumbled once, nearly collapsing. Ley caught him under the arm.
"You're bleeding," she said.
"Yeah," he grunted, forcing a smirk.
"Been a rough morning."
"Save the jokes," Merry barked.
"We're almost there!"
They turned a corner, slipping into a narrow street where a small building stood — a forgotten ice cream shop, half-buried in dust. Gerald slammed the door behind them, throwing a steel bar across it.
Silence.
Ed leaned against the wall, catching his breath. His vision spun. Ley pointed to a chair.
"Sit before you fall."
He slid down instead, back against the cracked tiles. He looked around — faded posters of melting ice cream cones, shattered glass counters, a freezer with the words: Ice Cream Yummy, Good!
He chuckled weakly. "Guess the world ended before they fixed that grammar."
Merry set her rifle down.
"We'll stay here a while. Doesn't look like they followed."
"Good," Gerald said, wiping sweat from his face.
"I'm out of explosives."
Ley knelt beside Ed. "You're hurt. Let me see."
"It's nothing," he muttered.
"Shut up," she said sharply, pressing a cloth to his side.
"You're leaking all over the place."
He winced, teeth gritted. "Guess I missed you too."
"Keep talking, and I'll reopen the wound myself," she said, but her lips twitched — the ghost of a smile.
Merry handed him a Drink. "Drink. You look like death wearing shoes."
Ed took a sip, letting the water wash down the taste of blood.
"Thanks," he said softly.
Merry smirked. "Didn't think I'd ever see you again."
"Yeah," he replied, staring at the floor.
"Me neither."
Ley's fingers worked fast, wrapping bandages tight. Her hands trembled, but she tried to hide it. The warmth of her touch grounded him.
Outside, rain began to patter against the broken glass.
For a while, no one spoke. Just the slow drip of water, the hiss of burning streets far away.
Then Merry broke the silence.
"So… Kia?"
The name hit like a knife.
Ed's shoulders tensed. His eyes darkened.
"Did you find her?" she asked quietly.
He swallowed hard. "No. But I saw her… in a dream. She told me not to stop looking."
Ley's hands froze mid-motion. "Ed…"
He shook his head. "Don't say it. She's alive. I know it."
The silence that followed was heavy enough to break bones.
Merry sighed and looked away. Gerald stared at the floor. None of them dared to crush that last spark in him.
Finally, Ley tied the last bandage and leaned back.
"Lie down. Please."
He hesitated, then obeyed. The cold tiles pressed against his back. His eyes fluttered shut.
Merry leaned on the counter, watching.
"You two always were impossible," she muttered.
Ley shot her a look. "You got a better plan?"
"Nope," Merry said, shrugging.
"Just hoping one of you learns to stay alive for more than a week."
Gerald chuckled tiredly. "Hey, we're alive now. That's a start."
Merry grinned. "Yeah, well, tomorrow's another apocalypse."
Ley ignored them and focused on Ed. His breathing had evened out, slow and steady. For the first time, he looked peaceful — fragile, even.
She stared at him for a long time. The memories hit her all at once — the nights they spent hiding under collapsing bridges, the way he carried Kia on his shoulders, the promise he whispered to never give up.
She thought she'd lost that man. Buried him with the ruins. But here he was again.
"You don't die easy, do you?" she whispered.
He smiled faintly, eyes still closed.
"Tried a few times. Didn't stick."
Outside, thunder rolled over the horizon.
They stayed in silence — the kind that doesn't need words.
Eventually, Merry curled up behind the counter, using her jacket as a pillow. Gerald leaned against the door, shotgun in his lap, head drooping.
Ley stayed awake. Watching Ed. Listening to the rain.
Her hand hovered near his, close enough to feel the faint heat of his skin. For a second, she almost reached out — then stopped herself.
She looked away, whispering, "Rest. You earned it."
When Ed woke again, the world was dim and gray. The fire outside had died. The rain still fell — gentle, constant.
He blinked, trying to remember where he was. Then he saw her. Ley, sitting against the counter, half-asleep, rifle across her lap.
"You stayed," he said softly.
Her eyes opened. She stretched, wincing.
"Someone had to make sure you didn't stop breathing."
He smiled. "Wouldn't want to ruin your night."
"Too late for that," she said, smirking.
They sat quietly, the silence no longer heavy — just familiar.
Finally, Ed spoke.
"I meant what I said. About Kia. I'm not giving up."
Ley met his gaze. "And if she's gone?"
He looked down. "Then I'll still look. Because if I stop… then I stop being me."
Ley's chest tightened. She wanted to tell him how cruel hope could be — how it eats at you until nothing's left. But she couldn't. Not when that fire in his eyes was the only thing holding him together.
So instead, she whispered, "Then we'll find her. Together."
He froze. "You mean that?"
"Yeah," she said quietly. "I do."
He exhaled, relief mixing with disbelief.
"Thank you."
She smiled faintly. "Don't thank me yet. You're still a pain in the ass."
He chuckled. "Wouldn't be me otherwise."
Rain drummed softly on the roof. The world outside was still broken — but inside the little ice cream shop, there was warmth again. The faint heartbeat of something long thought dead.
Maybe hope. Maybe love. Maybe both.
Ed leaned his head back, eyes half-closing. "Feels weird," he murmured.
"What does?"
"This," he said, smiling faintly. "Being alive."
Ley looked at him for a long moment, then turned her eyes to the window. The rain streaked down the cracked glass, blurring the dying city beyond.
"Get used to it," she said softly. "We've got a lot more dying to avoid."
He laughed — the sound quiet, but real.
Outside, thunder rolled again, distant and soft.
And for the first time in a long, long time —
the night didn't feel like an ending.
It felt like a beginning.
to be continued