Morning didn't feel like morning.
There was no warmth.
No comfort.
Just a dull gray light pushing through the cracks in the curtains, dragging the world back into view.
Elias was already awake.
He hadn't really slept.
Not properly.
Every sound during the night had kept him alert—the creak of the house, the distant groans, the soft thuds outside that never fully stopped.
He sat by the barricaded door, the metal tray still in his hands.
Waiting.
Listening.
Making sure nothing got in.
Behind him, his family stirred slowly.
His father sat up first, rubbing his face tiredly. His mother followed, her movements slow, heavy. His sister stayed curled up for a moment longer before finally opening her eyes.
No one said "good morning."
Because it wasn't.
"We need food," his father said quietly.
Elias nodded.
"I know."
They hadn't eaten since before everything started.
The hunger was starting to settle in—not sharp yet, but constant. A reminder that time wasn't on their side.
"And water," his mother added. "We can't last without it."
Elias stood, stretching slightly. His muscles protested immediately.
"We go out," he said. "Careful. Quiet. We don't take risks."
His sister sat up quickly. "We're all going?"
Elias shook his head.
"No," he said. "Too dangerous."
"I'm not staying here alone," she shot back instantly.
"You won't be," their mother said gently. "I'll stay with you."
His sister hesitated.
Didn't like it.
But she understood.
Elias looked at his father.
"You and me," he said.
His father nodded. "We'll be quick."
A moment passed.
Then his mother stood and walked over to Elias, placing a hand on his arm.
"Be careful," she said softly.
Elias met her eyes.
"I will."
His sister crossed her arms, trying to look tougher than she felt.
"Don't take forever," she said.
Elias gave a small nod.
"We won't."
He and his father moved to the door.
Elias slowly removed the barricade, careful not to make too much noise. The cabinet scraped slightly, but not enough to echo.
They both froze.
Listened.
Nothing.
Elias unlocked the door and opened it just a crack.
The street outside was quiet.
Too quiet.
He stepped out first.
His father followed.
The door closed behind them with a soft click.
They were outside again.
The air felt colder than it should.
Heavier.
Elias scanned the area carefully.
No movement.
Not close.
"Where?" his father asked.
Elias pointed down the street.
"There's a small store a few blocks from here," he said. "We passed it yesterday."
His father nodded.
"Lead the way."
They moved together.
Close to walls.
Avoiding open spaces.
Every step was controlled.
Every sound mattered.
The city looked worse in daylight.
More damage.
More signs of panic.
Cars abandoned mid-road. Doors left open. Blood staining the pavement in dark, dried patches.
Elias's jaw tightened.
He forced himself to focus forward.
They turned a corner—
And froze.
Two of them.
Standing in the middle of the street.
Still.
Not moving.
Not yet.
Elias raised his hand slowly.
Don't move.
His father stopped instantly.
They waited.
Watched.
One of the figures twitched slightly.
Its head tilted—
Then snapped toward them.
It saw them.
"Slow," Elias whispered.
They began to step back carefully.
Quietly.
But the second one noticed too.
Both started moving.
Fast.
"Go," Elias said.
They turned and moved quickly—not running, but fast enough to create distance.
The footsteps behind them grew louder.
Closer.
"Elias—" his father warned.
"I know."
They reached the corner of another street.
The store.
Broken windows.
Door half-open.
"Inside!" Elias said.
They rushed in.
Elias grabbed the door and shoved it shut behind them, pushing a fallen shelf against it just as something slammed into the other side.
Hard.
The wood creaked.
"They followed us," his father said.
"Yeah," Elias replied, breath tight.
Another slam.
Then scratching.
Then—
Nothing.
Silence again.
Elias didn't move.
Not for several seconds.
Then slowly stepped back.
"They'll move on," he said. "They always do."
"For now," his father replied.
Elias nodded.
"For now."
He turned.
The store was small.
Dim.
Shelves half-empty.
But not completely.
Hope.
"Search," Elias said.
They moved quickly.
Elias checked shelves—
Most things were gone.
But then—
A can.
Still sealed.
He grabbed it.
Then another.
"Got something," he said.
His father found a few bottles of water behind the counter.
"Not much," he said, "but enough."
Elias exhaled slowly.
Relief.
Small.
But real.
They gathered what they could—careful not to take too long.
Time was danger.
Every second increased the risk.
Then—
A sound.
Inside the store.
Not from the door.
From deeper in.
Both of them froze.
Elias turned slowly.
A shadow moved between the shelves.
"…We're not alone," his father said quietly.
The figure stepped out.
Slow.
Unsteady.
A woman.
Blood on her shirt.
Eyes empty.
Elias's grip tightened.
Too close.
No time to avoid.
It lunged.
Elias reacted instantly.
He swung the metal tray—
CLANG.
The impact knocked it sideways—but it didn't fall.
It came again.
Faster.
Stronger.
Elias stepped back—
His father moved in.
Grabbing a nearby wooden plank—
And striking hard.
CRACK.
The woman dropped.
Still.
This time—
She didn't get up.
Silence.
Heavy.
Elias's breathing was sharp.
His father lowered the plank slowly.
"…We have to get better at that," he said.
Elias nodded.
"We will."
He grabbed the supplies.
"Let's go."
They moved to the door.
Elias listened first.
Nothing.
He slowly pushed it open.
Clear.
"For now."
They stepped out.
And headed back.
Faster this time.
Because now—
They knew.
Even the quiet places weren't safe.
When they reached the house, Elias knocked lightly.
A pause—
Then the door opened just enough.
His mother's eyes filled with relief.
"You're back."
Elias nodded.
"We got food."
His sister looked at the supplies.
Not much.
But enough.
For today.
They closed the door.
Barricaded it again.
Safe.
For now.
Elias leaned against the wall, exhaling deeply.
His hands were still shaking.
His heart still racing.
But something had changed.
They had gone out.
Faced it.
And come back.
Alive.
It wasn't much.
But it was a start.
And in this world—
A start
was everything.