The weather during this time was extremely hot. The nights were a bit cooler, but overall everything was scorching.
Buzz! Buzz! Buzz!
Inside the dark room, Alan moved his eyelids as he heard a phone vibrating.
"What the hell happened?" Alan, who was lying on the floor, muttered quietly and reached out for the vibrating phone.
"Huh? Why can't I move?" Alan thought to himself, feeling a sharp headache.
Dazed, Alan opened his eyes. He couldn't remember what had happened the day before, but since he had been agitated for a long time, it made sense that he had slept for over ten hours.
It was still early, and the room remained dark. Alan looked at Riya, who was sleeping next to him with tear stains on her cheeks. His gaze lingered on her face, and after a few moments, he let out a heavy sigh.
"We should focus more on our future…" Alan had been trying hard not to dwell on his pain, but every lonely night brought those memories back to him.
It's not like he was some inhuman robot. The painful memories of shooting innocent people and the weight of abandoning those who were, simply put, a burden—it all still haunted him.
In this world where only the strong survive, Alan had accepted the fact that he couldn't save everyone. But even so, knowing everything he had done to get to this point, he still felt furious that he couldn't guarantee a future for the people he had once sworn to protect as a soldier.
Whenever Riya came to see him, he knew she just needed someone to talk to. Her father had died long before all of this began—prostate cancer.
Alan, a lost soul, had met Riya on a mission. An incredible woman and an unmatched sniper. They fell in love during a mission, but in the end, when Alan took on all the guilt, shame, hatred, and criticism, he didn't want to jeopardize his girlfriend's perfect career.
He knew Riya would understand, that she would accept him as he was, but he couldn't burden her with the depression he was experiencing back then.
And no matter if now he felt better with the false sense of truly helping his country, Alan knew he couldn't easily return to how things were before.
He would apologize someday—but not now.
"The plans are in motion." Moving Riya's foot, which was resting on his stomach, Alan shifted his numb body and sat on the shorter couch.
There was no smile on his face. Instead, Alan had adopted a serious tone. Like anyone, he wasn't someone who could walk away from his decisions untouched, but he hoped to do the best he could with the situation at hand.
If he had come this far, it was thanks to meeting the right people and General Shelton entrusting him with full command of the deserters—most of whom opposed FEDRA.
This had significantly reduced casualties and established a strong front against the hordes of infected invading Texas from two fronts—one from Mexico and another from the other states in the country.
It had led him to make a series of decisions that kept him and many others safe. To be honest, he hadn't expected to come this far—but here he was, about to carry out the craziest idea he'd ever had.
That desire for control was becoming stronger. Alan wanted to hold it in the palm of his hand just to stay focused. If he stayed concentrated on a goal, his emotions wouldn't be a distraction. If he wanted something, he would use every means to obtain it—and he knew no one could stop him.
It would hurt him, but it was necessary.
What if he became a man no one wanted to be associated with?
As long as his plans remained in motion and humanity survived, nothing else mattered.
"I'm not going to stop…" Alan thought as he checked the time and walked toward the kitchen to get a coffee.
Riya, who had been asleep, woke up, sat on the couch, and began adjusting her clothes with a slight nervousness. "Did we have unprotected sex?"
"I don't think we went that far," Alan said as he handed her a hot cup of coffee.
"My head really hurts…" Riya didn't take the coffee right away or respond to Alan's words. He had a bit more tolerance for pain.
"Come on, we need to report our situation to the other bases."