Arden hadn't slept much that night. The shadows outside the window seemed to stretch further with each passing hour, as if the city were pulling them into its dark, decaying heart. The barricades were holding for now, but he knew it wouldn't last forever. Something—someone—would eventually breach them.
By morning, the sun had fought its way through thick clouds, but it wasn't strong enough to light up the city. Arden was already awake, checking his gear. The supplies they'd gathered the previous day made his pack heavier, but it still wasn't enough. They needed more food, water, and especially ammunition.
"Nina," he called.
Nina, curled up in the corner of her makeshift bed, lifted her head to look at him. She hadn't slept much either. Arden could understand that. The silent terror of the city crept into your mind whether you were awake or asleep.
"Ready?" Arden asked.
Nina nodded, tightening her jacket around her shoulders. "Yeah. Let's go."
They had yet to discuss the child they'd found in the market yesterday. Neither of them had mentioned it. Arden wasn't sure if Nina saw him as a reflection of her own struggles, a reminder of innocence lost. The loss of innocence, the harsh truth of survival. It was a weight they both carried, but neither of them had the courage to speak of it. Not yet.
The plan was simple—head to the nearby police station. It was risky, but they had no choice. The station might have guns, ammo, and maybe even a radio. They needed to know what was happening outside the city.
The streets were eerily silent as they moved. The usual sounds of the city—people talking, the hum of traffic—had been replaced by a deadly stillness. No one had returned from here.
By the time they reached the station, Arden's heart was pounding. It was a small station, but if anyone was still alive here, they had probably made it their sanctuary.
Nina looked at him, her eyes silently asking the question. What if it's not safe?
Arden met her gaze, his face expressionless. "We'll find out soon enough."
The doors of the station were wide open, as if someone had hastily left. Arden motioned for Nina to stay behind him, silently entering the building. Their footsteps echoed softly through the corridor. The building smelled of rust and dust, papers scattered across the floor. Broken windows let in the occasional gust of wind, and the station felt like it was breathing, as though it were alive.
"Stay close," Arden whispered.
They moved through the station, checking every room. The silence was unbearable now. There were no creaks of a familiar old building. Everything was dead, and Arden reminded himself—that wasn't just the station, that was the entire world they now lived in.
They reached the main office. Arden swept the room, his eyes scanning. The desk had been knocked over, papers scattered everywhere. A few chairs lay overturned, and there was a bloodstain near the door. It wasn't fresh, but Arden knew it had been a last stand.
"Nina," he called softly, pointing to the mess. "This was the last person here. Looks like they put up a fight."
Nina moved toward the desk, sorting through the papers. "This place doesn't look looted… Maybe we can find something useful."
Arden kept scanning the room. A few boxes of ammo, some dried food, and a few empty medical kits. No radio. That was what they needed most.
Arden's frustration grew. He wanted to shout, throw something, but he didn't. There was no time for anger. Only survival.
"We'll check the second floor," Arden said, looking at Nina.
They moved quickly, the cold air of the building swirling around them. The stairs creaked under their feet, and just as they reached the top, they heard something shift in one of the rooms. Arden froze.
"Did you hear that?" Nina whispered.
Arden raised his hand, signaling for her to be silent. His eyes locked on the door to the left. He moved slowly toward it, hand resting on the doorknob, then carefully turned it.
The door creaked open, revealing a small office. Inside was a body slumped in a chair, still holding a weapon. Blood was everywhere, and the room smelled of death.
"Zombies?" Nina asked, glancing at the body.
Arden shook his head. "This must be the last person. Looks like they fought until the end."
A gunshot echoed down the hall, making both of them freeze. This wasn't from inside the station.
"That came from outside," Arden said, his voice tense. "We need to move."
They quickly moved toward the back door, the sounds of footsteps growing louder. They weren't alone anymore.
"Arden…" Nina whispered, her voice trembling.
Arden glanced out the window. There was no escape. They were surrounded.
He turned to Nina. "We move now. Stay close, and stay quiet."
With that, they sprinted toward the back exit, rushing down an alley, the sounds of approaching danger growing louder. But just as they reached the street, a figure emerged from the shadows—another survivor, Arden hoped.
"Help!" the man shouted. "They're coming!"
Arden didn't hesitate. He grabbed Nina's arm and pulled her into the shadows as the figure ran past. They couldn't afford to trust anyone yet, not in this city. But for now, survival was all that mattered.
They disappeared into the streets, the world still alive with death.