Chapter 7

  Ethan moved like a shadow through the ruined apartment complex, every step measured and silent. The walls here were paper-thin and peeling, covered in soot and mildew. The air was thick, heavy with the stench of rot and mold. A place abandoned by time—and recently, from the looks of it, disturbed.

  He didn’t want to stop. He didn’t want to see anyone. People meant complications. Questions. Lies. So he kept walking, eyes forward, boots quiet against cracked linoleum.

  Then—movement.

  A creak of floorboards. The scuff of a shoe.

  Ethan stilled, pressing his back to a wall. Not a monster—too careful. Human.

  Voices followed, soft and cautious. A man’s voice, low and assertive. A second, lighter, maybe a woman. Then a third—quieter than the rest.

  He considered turning back. But curiosity, or maybe some deep-rooted instinct for danger, made him wait.

  Three figures rounded the corner.

  The first was tall, with a broad chest and a makeshift spear slung across his back. Confident. Too confident. The second was lean and dirty, eyes darting nervously, but there was a flicker of kindness there. The last hung back, quiet, smaller than the rest—barely older than a teenager. His eyes locked with Ethan’s.

  All three froze.

  Ethan stepped forward, hands away from his weapons. "Didn’t mean to interrupt."

  The one with the spear spoke first. "No problem, man. We just didn’t think anyone else was alive in this dump."

  "I'm passing through," Ethan said.

  "That so?" The man gripped his improvised weapon tighter. "Name's Leo. This is Mira and that's Trent."

  The tension in the air was thick. Mira, still wearing her hospital scrubs with an ID badge reading "Neurology," offered a cautious nod. "We all got trapped here when... whatever this is started. Those things appeared out of nowhere this morning."

  Ethan gave a brief nod. He could've walked away. Should've. But Trent, dressed in a security guard uniform, kept watching him with something calculating behind his eyes.

  "Do you have any idea what's happening?" Leo asked, voice cracking slightly. "One minute I'm in a budget meeting, the next there's screaming and those... things coming through the lobby."

  "It's everywhere," Ethan replied. "I was just delivering packages when they appeared up downtown. Getting those floating screens like we all have now."

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  "You got anything to eat?" Trent finally spoke, his voice rough. "Vending machines are all smashed."

  Ethan hesitated, but he rummaged through his pack anyway and pulled out two cans and a ration bar—actual items he'd scrounged earlier.

  "That’s all I can spare," Ethan muttered, offering the food.

  Mira's eyes softened. "That’s more than generous," she said, picking up the food carefully. "Thank you. Seriously."

  They sat down in a corner, tearing open the rations with shaking hands. Ethan stayed on the perimeter, watching them intently, but he remained silent.

  "So, where are you from?" The quiet one—Trent—asked suddenly, his voice soft.

  "Downtown," Ethan answered shortly.

  Leo nodded, but his eyes stayed locked on Ethan’s. The silence between them stretched, and Mira seemed to sense that the topic was exhausted. She cleared her throat.

  Then Leo spoke again, his voice softer this time. "So what’s your plan? You got anywhere to go?"

  Ethan’s eyes darted to the open doorway, his thoughts flashing briefly to the distant corners of the city. "I’m looking for my parents. They were on the other side of the city, before... everything went to hell. I need to find them."

  Mira nodded in understanding. "We get it. Family’s everything. We’ve been searching for food, but we’ve been thinking about moving on too... to find a safer place. Maybe we could—"

  "No." Ethan cut her off gently, though his tone was firm. "I can’t. I’m not sticking around here. I need to keep moving."

  Leo nodded slowly, his eyes studying Ethan, but he didn’t press. "I get it. We all have our own reasons for doing what we do."

  Ethan felt the weight of his decision in his chest—leaving them. These were good people. They weren’t trying to take advantage of him. But he couldn’t afford to get attached. Not now. Not when there were too many unknowns.

  He rose to his feet, brushing dust off his pants. "Look, I have to go. It was... nice meeting you guys."

  Before he reached the exit, he paused, his hand brushing his sidearm. He pulled it out slowly, eyes flickering over it once more. It was a spare—one he didn't need. One he'd rather leave behind for someone else. Without a word, he set the handgun on a nearby crate, its weight a reminder of everything he didn’t want to carry.

  The trio’s eyes followed the movement, and Mira spoke first. "You sure?"

  Ethan glanced back, his expression unreadable. "I’ve got another one. You might need it more than I do."

  Leo raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised, but then his features softened with gratitude. "Thanks, man. Seriously. You don’t have to do that, but... we’re grateful."

  Leo, who’d been watching Ethan closely, gave a small nod. "Take care of yourself out there. It’s... it's a messed up world."

  Ethan didn’t answer immediately. He just turned toward the door again, stepping out into the dim light of the ruined world outside. The weight of the handgun was gone, but the burden of everything else—his family, his mission, and the unknowns ahead—remained.

  Behind him, he heard Mira's voice call out softly, "Good luck, Ethan."

  Mira smiled weakly. "Good luck out there. I hope you find them."

  Ethan nodded, though his heart felt heavy. He didn’t say anything more. He didn’t need to. He just turned and walked toward the door.

  Behind him, Leo’s voice followed him softly. "Take care of yourself, alright?"

  Ethan didn’t answer. He stepped outside, the weight of the world pressing on his shoulders. He didn’t want to think about it too much. He has things he needs to worry about.