We slipped through a narrow gap and emerged into an alley bathed in dying daylight. An overturned crate lay nearby, wood splinters jutting out like broken teeth. I swallowed hard, thinking about the magic I had uncovered. I still did not understand it, only that when I raised my arms, my friends became stronger, faster, sharper.
Finch hefted the last of the bandages into his pack. "Back entrance. Follow me."
He slipped through a battered service door without hesitation.
"Whatever you say, Captain Bear. Mister Bear. Finchy Bear," Felicity whispered to herself, stifling a laugh, unaware that Finch's sensitive ears caught every word.
He shot Rose a questioning look, one eyebrow arching high. Rose only shrugged.
Inside, the pharmacy was a wasteland. Shelves lay overturned, glass shards crunching beneath our boots, fluorescent lights flickering like dying fireflies. Mutated monsters lurked among the wreckage, twisted into grotesque, zombie like forms, jaws slack and eyes glowing with feral hunger.
Felicity let out a hollow laugh, her eyes darting between the approaching shadows. "Well," she whispered, clutching Rose's arm, "I think we might be completely and utterly done for."
My pulse rattled in my ears as I pressed against the cold wall, broom at the ready. Finch's hushed whisper cut through my thoughts.
"On my mark."
Rose's claws slid free with a soft sound. My chest warmed, pulsing in time with my racing heart. "Mark."
I inhaled sharply and raised my trembling hands.
A soft glow sparked at my fingertips, bursting into golden arcs. I wrapped the energy around Rose, her muscles coiling like springs, claws gleaming as if honed by moonlight. I poured the rest toward Finch, sharpening his reflexes to razor sharp precision.
A thrill of exhilaration surged through me.
I did not feel as drained as before. Maybe I was leveling up. They lunged forward together. I stayed in the back.
When the last zombie monster collapsed, silence fell, broken only by our ragged breathing. I stood amid shattered bottles and spilled boxes, my broom heavy in my grip, my chest still glowing faintly from the effort.
We moved on through refuse, sweaty and blood spattered. Finch led the way, vigilant as ever. At the city's edge, concrete gave way to grass, the air fresher near water. Beneath the cold moonlight, we found a stream, its banks alive with fireflies and watching beasts.
Rose dipped a clawed hand into the water, then motioned.
Felicity knelt by the stream, its clear waters flowing unexpectedly through the remnants of the city. The contrast between nature and urban decay felt surreal. She splashed cool water on her face, welcoming the relief. They had just looted the drugstore, and adrenaline still buzzed through her veins. Camp needed to be set before night fell.
She caught her reflection in the water and blinked in disbelief.
Not a scratch. Not a smudge.
Somehow, she looked like she had stepped out of a salon instead of an apocalypse.
"Hollywood disaster movies have been lying to us all along," she thought.
As she gathered supplies, her thoughts drifted to the others. Finch was organizing their haul, muttering to himself about the best way to divide it. The weight of their situation pressed down on her, and she focused on arranging their meager belongings and preparing a small fire pit.
Just as she reached for more wood, a wave of dizziness washed over her.
The world blurred.
She swayed, struggling to stay upright as panic surged through her chest. Her knees buckled.
"Uh oh."
Everything went dark.
Victor had been searching for Finch for hours, his heart pounding with unease. They had been separated during the looting, and every minute that passed made the tension coil tighter in his chest.
As he moved through the broken remains of the city, a faint sound reached his ears. A dull thud. Then silence.
He turned toward the stream just in time to see a figure crumple to the ground.
Without hesitation, Victor sprinted forward, catching the woman just before she hit the dirt. Her body sagged against him, light and warm. Honey blonde hair spilled over his arm, her features soft even in unconsciousness, but there was no time to dwell on it.
"What the hell?" Finch exclaimed, rushing toward them. "You can't just—"
Victor shot him a glare sharp enough to cut steel. "Don't touch her," he growled.
Finch froze, hands lifting in reflexive surrender. "I was just trying to help."
Victor adjusted his grip, cradling the woman closer as instinct took over. His pulse raced, not from the sudden movement, but from a fierce need to protect what he held. He had never been someone who attached easily, least of all to strangers, but something about her presence cut straight through the walls he had built.
"Get her friend," Victor ordered, his voice low and firm. "I need a woman here. Now."
Finch hesitated, then nodded and took off.
Victor knelt, keeping Felicity supported as he lowered himself to the ground. Her breathing was shallow but steady. He studied her face, strangely peaceful despite the chaos surrounding them. Against his will, something shifted inside his chest.
Moments later, Rose hurried over, her feline ears twitching forward as her sharp eyes took in Felicity's limp form.
"What happened?" she demanded, kneeling beside them. "And who are you?"
"She collapsed," Victor said shortly. He adjusted Felicity again, one broad hand supporting the back of her head as her hair spilled through his fingers. Her fennec fox ears lay flat, unmoving.
Rose pressed her palm gently to Felicity's forehead. Her expression darkened. "She's burning up. Could be exhaustion. Dehydration. Or something worse."
Victor tensed at the contact but forced himself to stay still. She needed help. That was all that mattered.
"There was medicine at the pharmacy," he said. "Antibiotics. Grab them. Now."
"You don't even know what's wrong with her," Finch protested, hovering nearby. "You can't just—"
"I said get the antibiotics," Victor snapped, his red eyes flashing. "Move."
They did.
The truth was, Victor had spent the last decade of his old life under harsh lights and worse conditions. Hospitals. Field tents. War zones. He had learned how to keep bodies alive when they wanted nothing more than to fail. He had trained for this. Bled for this.
When the world collapsed and the beast infection tore through cities like wildfire, those instincts never left him.
As Finch and Rose returned, Victor felt his chest tighten. Felicity lay motionless in his arms, far too still.
"I got them," Finch said, breathless, handing over a small bottle.
Victor took it, hands steady despite the storm raging inside him. He unscrewed the cap and poured a careful amount into his palm, the liquid catching the faint moonlight.
"We need her to swallow it," he said. "Tilt her head gently."
He shifted Felicity closer, one arm supporting her shoulders while the other steadied her head. He paused, looking down at her face. Fragile. Trusting, even in unconsciousness.
"Come on, Felicity," he murmured softly. "You need this. Stay with us."
He tipped her head just enough, letting the medicine touch her lips. A small amount slipped past, and he watched closely, heart pounding as he waited for any sign of response.
Please wake up.
Please be all right.