Michael hadn't slept. His body lay still, but his ears twitched at every creak of the house. Every sound outside felt like a threat clawing at the walls.
Sarah was curled on the couch under his jacket, breathing uneven, the stain of dried tears still on her face. She'd passed out hours ago.
Michael stayed awake, rifle across his lap, eyes fixed on the faint blue overlay of the system's map flickering in the corner of his vision.
> [SYSTEM ONLINE: Tactical functions active.]
[Mapping radius: 100m.]
[Threat markers: 47 detected.]
The red dots on the map weren't scattered anymore. They were clustering. Converging.
Michael exhaled slowly. A horde. Perfect.
He shook Sarah awake gently. She blinked, groggy.
"Michael?"
"We're leaving. Now."
Her hands trembled. "It's still dark."
"Better dark than dead," he said firmly, crouching to her level. "Stay close, don't argue, don't look back."
She nodded, voice small. "…Okay."
Michael moved fast, packing the duffel: water, food, ammo, medkit. His hands worked on instinct. Weight balanced, nothing loose that could rattle. His mind replayed every patrol he'd ever done in hostile cities overseas.
The system chimed.
> [Crafting option unlocked: Improvised Molotov.]
[Required: Bottle + Alcohol + Cloth.]
Michael's eyes flicked to the half-empty whiskey bottle on the counter. Fine. He made two Molotovs, slid them into the side pouch.
Sarah stared. "What is that?"
"Insurance," he muttered.
They slipped out through the back door.
The night air was heavy with smoke and rot. Somewhere far off, gunshots echoed. A woman screamed, then was cut off.
Michael's grip tightened on Sarah's hand. The system's red dots pulsed closer.
Then snarls. Feet pounding pavement.
The horde was here.
"Run." Michael's voice was steel.
They bolted down the alley. Sarah stumbled, but he scooped her into his arms, carrying her against his chest like she weighed nothing.
The infected poured after them dozens, maybe more. The system flared.
> [Critical threat detected. Suggested action: Area Denial.]
Michael snarled under his breath. "Fine."
He lit a Molotov mid-run and hurled it.
The explosion roared, a wall of fire sealing the alley. Screams of burning infected filled the night.
"Don't look," he told Sarah, breath ragged. "Whatever you do don't look back."
They burst onto an open street choked with abandoned cars. Michael ducked behind a pickup, scanning. His map showed fewer dots here, but more were gathering.
Sarah's voice cracked. "Are we… are we gonna die?"
Michael crouched, gripping her shoulders. His voice softened but stayed firm.
"Not on my watch. You stick with me, and I'll get us through this. I promise."
Her eyes shimmered, but she nodded.
Inside, though, Michael felt the weight of that promise.
Dawn bled across the horizon. Smoke rose from burning buildings, painting the sky in ash.
Michael found an abandoned farmhouse on the edge of town. He cleared it methodically two infected inside, dispatched with silenced shots before Sarah even saw.
He barricaded the doors and finally let his body breathe.
Sarah sat curled on a couch, knees to chest. She wasn't crying now. Just staring. Hardened.
"You did good tonight," Michael said quietly.
She sniffled. "I was scared."
"Good. Being scared keeps you alive. But you were brave too. Don't forget that."
When she finally drifted off, Michael sat by the window, rifle on his lap.
The system pulsed again.
> [Survivor Tier I unlocked.]
[Reward: Blueprint – Reinforced Shelter.]
[Reminder: No other survivors aware of system. Maintain secrecy.]
Michael smirked grimly. "Like I needed the reminder."
His eyes flicked from Sarah's sleeping form to the burning city beyond.
The world had ended. But for her sake for his own sanity Michael knew this was just the beginning.