lo_thefairy

I sighed and rested my head against the table in frustration.

"That time, I almost beat you."

Abuela let out a mocking cackle.

"Looks like those hands of yours don't know how to roll dice, young lady."

The moment she finished laughing, her dentures slipped out of her mouth and landed on the table.

In an instant, the tables turned.

I burst out laughing.

Despite her slow movements, she caught me off guard with a light smack on the head using her cane, attempting to silence me.

Abuela was an elderly woman who lived in this shelter, which was guarded by her grandson, Guillermo, and his men.

It hadn't been difficult to gather information about the place or its residents. Everyone here seemed to have a story to tell, and the elderly didn't need much encouragement before they started talking.

After Felipe had left us in the corner, it hadn't taken long for us to blend in with these kind old people.

They welcomed us warmly, offered us food, sat with us to talk and play games, and even told us stories about the world before it fell apart.

Unfortunately, what I'd suspected turned out to be true...

None of them knew what was happening beyond these walls.

I turned at the sound of commotion coming from the entrance of the hall where we were sitting.

Two men accompanied by Felipe stormed inside, moving quickly.

The moment they entered, they headed straight toward Glenn.

I got to my feet with a smile, assuming they were coming for us, only to watch them completely ignore me.

I frowned in confusion before turning around.

The two men had grabbed Glenn from either side and were dragging him away with them.

"What is happening? Where are you taking him?"

I rushed toward them, trying to pull Glenn free, but he was completely trapped between them.

"Don't interfere."

Felipe's sharp voice came from behind me.

"Didn't I tell you two to stay in the corner while you're here?"

I turned toward him, my expression hardening instantly.

"And I didn't ask you what I should do."

Glenn clung to one of the men's arms, struggling against them.

"What do you want from me?"

He sounded genuinely confused.

I stepped forward again.

"Let him go! Or do you want me to turn that bald head of yours into a map?"

Felipe gave me a cold look before shoving me aside as though I were nothing more than a minor obstacle in his way.

But I didn't back down.

I followed them and grabbed Glenn's arm before he could step through the doorway.

"Don't let go of my hand!"

I said quickly.

He immediately tightened his grip, our fingers intertwining as I pulled him toward me with all my strength.

The two men stopped in annoyance.

"Come on, let him go."

I ignored him.

The next thing I knew, an arm wrapped around my waist and lifted me clean off the ground.

"Felipe!"

I held onto Glenn's hand for one last second, but his fingers slipped from mine despite my efforts.

Felipe pulled me backward and stepped between Glenn and me.

"We're not going to hurt your friend."

His voice held no trace of amusement this time.

"But if you don't stop this childish behavior, I'll make both of you dinner for our dogs."

He stared directly into my eyes for several seconds before pointing toward one of the chairs.

"Sit."

I remained standing for a moment, glaring at him.

But I knew resisting wouldn't do Glenn any good.

So I slowly sat down, my eyes never leaving him.

They took Glenn away.

I watched until he disappeared behind the doorway, then continued staring at the place where he'd vanished, my hand still remembering the feeling of his fingers wrapped around mine.

I sat and waited.

And waited.

Abuela invited me to play dice with her again, but I refused. I wasn't in the mood this time.

I remained seated, watching the hallway where Glenn had disappeared as though staring at it hard enough would somehow bring him back faster.

Several minutes passed.

Then ten.

Then nearly half an hour, which felt like several hours to me.

My patience finally began to run out.

I got to my feet and headed toward the hallway to follow them, but I had barely taken a few steps before the two men guarding its entrance blocked my way.

"Not allowed."

One of them stared at me coldly.

I sighed and turned back, dragging my disappointment behind me.

Abuela and some of the other elderly women glanced at me every now and then. I noticed that Abuela, in particular, had been silently watching my growing anxiety.

And then an idea struck me.

I hurried over to her and took her hand.

"Abuela, tell these idiots to let me through! They still haven't brought Glenn back."

I pleaded with her, sounding like a confused child worried about her brother.

She gently patted my head, as though trying to comfort a little girl.

"Don't worry. My boys don't hurt people. They won't do anything to your friend..."

"He's a good boy."

I stared at her for a second.

Then I slapped my forehead and dropped to my knees in defeat.

"Oh, my God..."

"You don't understand."

She didn't answer.

She merely smiled peacefully, as though she were completely confident in what she'd said.

Before I could think of another way around the problem, a violent coughing fit erupted nearby.

I turned.

Uncle Maltis was struggling to catch his breath, coughing harshly and repeatedly while one of the nurses tried to convince him to take his medicine.

"Come on, Uncle Maltis. Just take it."

"I said no!"

He shouted at her before breaking into another fit of coughing.

Curiosity drew me closer.

I watched him for several seconds as he struggled to catch his breath between each cough.

Abuela, meanwhile, had clearly had enough of his stubbornness.

She sighed, grabbed her cane, and slowly got to her feet.

"Where are you going?"

"That stubborn fool refuses to take his medicine, and he'll collapse like he does every time."

She adjusted her grip on the cane.

"I'll tell Guillermo. He's the only one who knows how to deal with him."

My eyebrows shot up.

Guillermo?

This was my chance.

"I'll go with you."

Then I quickly added,

"I won't let you go alone."

I walked beside her, matching her slow pace as she leaned heavily on her cane.

To be honest, I wasn't nearly as concerned about Uncle Maltis as I was about Glenn.

All I wanted was to know where he'd gone, why he was taking so long, and whether he was okay.

When we reached the end of the hallway, the two men appeared again and blocked our path.

This time, I didn't give either of them a chance to speak.

Abuela raised her cane and smacked one of them across the head.

"Move."

I froze.

Then I looked at the other man.

Then at Abuela.

Then back at the man.

He already looked hesitant.

A slow smile spread across my face.

Looks like I'd finally found the right way through this hallway.

And thanks to Abuela's status and the respect everyone had for her, it didn't take long.

The two men quickly stepped aside and allowed us through.

I smiled triumphantly before hurrying after Abuela.

We stepped into the garden and crossed it toward the massive back door of the garage.

Every step I took brought me closer to Guillermo...

And to Glenn.

The gates slowly creaked open, allowing the vehicle to slip inside before they slammed shut behind us with a heavy metallic clang.

I lifted my gaze, taking in our surroundings.

It resembled a small fortified courtyard occupied by several armed men. Every single one of them stared at us with grim expressions, making it feel less like a refuge and more like the entrance to a den.

Glenn and I exchanged a quick glance through the window.

Nothing about their faces suggested we'd be receiving a warm welcome.

If anything...

That feeling only grew stronger when the bald man climbed out of the truck, cursing under his breath while rubbing the spot where Daryl's arrow had struck him.

The moment the vehicle came to a complete stop, the door was yanked open.

A rough hand seized my arm and dragged me outside without the slightest bit of mercy. Glenn was receiving the exact same treatment on the other side.

The duffel bag full of weapons was ripped from our hands before the men stepped aside.

Only then did another man approach.

He was lean, dressed in a black pinstriped jacket. He wasn't particularly intimidating in size, yet his presence alone silenced everyone around him.

His eyes swept over us from head to toe before turning toward his men.

"Who are these two?"

The heavyset man handed him the duffel.

"They attacked us and tried to steal the weapons."

Before I could respond, the bald man interrupted, glaring at me with open resentment.

"And they got Miguel captured."

My eyes widened.

So... Miguel was the man Daryl had been fighting when the others fled.

"That's a lie!"

I immediately turned back to the man in the black jacket.

From the way everyone looked at him, it wasn't hard to figure out he was their leader.

"Your men kidnapped my friend and me," I said firmly. "As for that bag, it belongs to one of our people. We came back to retrieve it. They abandoned Miguel when they fled with Glenn and me... and now they're trying to pin the blame on us."

I finished with a cold glare aimed directly at the bald man.

He curled his lip in disgust before pointing at the scratches covering his scalp.

"Guillermo, this wildcat is more dangerous than the rest of them. Look what she did to me... And Miguel couldn't escape because the guy with the crossbow caught him."

I didn't feel the slightest bit guilty.

Instead, I folded my arms.

"He attacked Glenn first. And your men opened fire in the middle of the street. They're the ones who attracted every walker in the area."

Silence settled over the courtyard.

Finally, Guillermo looked toward his men.

"Is that true?"

The two exchanged an uneasy glance before reluctantly nodding.

One of them quickly added,

"Even so... the bag belongs to us. We found it first."

I let out a weary sigh.

"You found it? That bag belonged to our friend. He dropped it here days ago. We only came back to reclaim what was already ours."

Guillermo raised an eyebrow, his expression unchanged.

"Anyone could claim that."

He gestured toward the compound surrounding us.

"That bag belongs to us now."

His gaze shifted from me to Glenn.

"And so do the two of you..."

His voice remained unnervingly calm.

"...until we decide what we're going to do with you."

Glenn and I exchanged another silent look.

My throat suddenly felt dry as I swallowed.

It seemed we'd stumbled into a real predicament.

The bald men led us through the inner corridors while Glenn walked beside me.

He stayed just behind us, watching every movement as though he expected us to make a run for it at any second—even though we'd been stripped of every weapon we had.

Without taking his eyes off us, he said,

"If you're planning anything... Guillermo will feed you to the dogs."

A mocking smile spread across his face.

"They haven't eaten in days."

He tilted his head toward me.

"Especially you, wildcat."

I looked at him and raised an eyebrow.

"Odessa. That's my name, Baldy."

He shot me an annoyed look before replying in the same tone.

"Felipe."

His hand instinctively drifted back to the scratches across his head.

I simply looked away.

Glenn, meanwhile, remained silent, carefully observing everything around us. He seemed determined not to get involved in another argument—probably hoping to avoid another beating.

The farther we walked, the stranger the place became.

The rough warehouse we'd entered earlier gradually gave way to something... almost normal.

A small garden sat at the center of the building, surrounded by benches and swings.

Medical rooms.

Bedrooms.

A spacious common room where people gathered around a television.

But what caught my attention most...

Was the number of elderly people.

Old men and women wandered the halls, some relying on canes, while others sat together playing cards, chatting quietly, or breaking into occasional coughing fits.

Every one of them greeted Felipe with warm smiles.

And, strangely enough...

He smiled back with the same kindness.

I lightly nudged Glenn's arm.

He looked at me in confusion, and we exchanged equally puzzled glances.

Neither of us understood what this place really was.

I turned toward Felipe.

"So..."

I asked with complete seriousness.

"Do you kidnap old people too?"

He stopped walking for a brief moment and stared at me with a blank expression.

Then he simply turned away, completely ignoring my question, and continued speaking with an elderly woman whose hearing was failing.

I quietly exhaled and looked around once more.

The building had probably been a hospital... or perhaps a nursing home before the world collapsed.

The warehouse we'd entered through...

Had merely been a disguise to hide this place from the outside world.

The hallways echoed with the sounds of old age.

Soft laughter.

Persistent coughing.

Casual conversations.

Playing cards slapping against tabletops.

Everything felt unnervingly ordinary.

As though these people had no idea what existed beyond these walls.

As though...

For them, the world had never ended.

I continued walking slowly, absentmindedly running my fingers along the wall—

Until I suddenly stopped.

I frowned.

Stepping closer, I studied it carefully.

The wall was cracked.

Moisture had eaten away at the concrete.

One section bulged outward noticeably.

My eyes drifted lower.

One of the bottom bricks protruded slightly, while the entire wall leaned subtly backward.

I froze.

A hand landed on my shoulder.

I turned to find Felipe watching me with a puzzled expression.

"What are you doing?"

I pointed directly at the wall.

"Tear it down."

His brows knitted together.

"What?"

I traced one of the cracks with my finger.

"Look here. The moisture has weakened the structure. The wall's already leaning, and that lower brick is carrying most of the load now."

I looked back at him.

"If you leave it like this..."

"It'll collapse sooner or later."

Then I added firmly,

"Tear it down before it falls on someone."

He stared at me for several long seconds.

Clearly, he didn't believe a single word I'd said.

Finally, he pointed toward a corner of the room where Glenn had already sat down.

"Sit over there."

I sighed but didn't move.

Instead, I looked back at the elderly residents.

"They don't know what's happening outside... do they?"

Silence.

I kept watching them.

"You keep them here..."

"...to protect them."

He still didn't answer.

I met his eyes again.

"Then why kidnap us and steal from us if you're supposed to be the good guys?"

That finally tested his patience.

He grabbed my arm and marched me over to where Glenn was sitting before letting go.

"Being good people..."

He looked at us both.

"...doesn't automatically mean you are."

He gave us one last cold glance before heading toward the exit.

"Stay here."

His voice echoed through the room.

"Don't move until Guillermo decides what he's going to do with you."

Then he disappeared down the hallway.

Silence settled between us.

Glenn leaned closer and whispered,

"What are we going to do?"

I let out a long breath and rested my head against the wall behind me.

"Nothing..."

My eyes remained fixed on the doorway Felipe had just walked through.

"...We wait."

_______________________

Note: I hope you guys enjoyed my fanfic so far, please share your thoughts on the comments+ soon I'll provide a version on Wattpad and I'll share the link here.

∆: this is a slow burn fanfic which means Odessa and Daryl won't be falling in love immediately so you guys need to be patient and bare with me.

Daryl insisted that the amount of blood Merle had lost would've kept him from getting very far, so we focused our search on the surrounding area. Even so, the possibility that he was already dead lingered over us...

But Daryl refused to accept it.

Not until he'd seen the body with his own eyes.

Eventually, we had no choice but to suspend the search.

We took shelter inside an abandoned building to catch our breath and turned our attention to our second objective: retrieving the bag of weapons Rick had left beside the tank before getting out of Atlanta once and for all, before the walkers trapped us again.

Rick lowered his head, studying the lines we'd drawn across the dusty floor.

After a long moment of thought, he finally spoke.

"This is going to be risky."

It was already the third plan we'd come up with since arriving. Every previous idea had fallen apart the moment we examined its flaws.

Silence settled over the room.

Then Glenn suddenly spoke.

"I've got a plan."

All of us turned toward him.

He was kneeling on the concrete floor, sketching with a piece of charcoal. At first, I couldn't make sense of what he was drawing.

A few moments later, I realized it was a map of the surrounding streets.

We gathered around him as he began explaining with a confidence I'd never heard from him before.

"This back street is mostly clear. It leads to the railroad tracks."

He traced the route with his finger.

"Up ahead, it splits into two streets. One leads straight to the tank. The other runs behind it, only a few yards away."

He paused briefly to make sure we were following.

Then continued.

"I'll make the run for the bag while you cover me."

His finger pointed north.

"Rick and T-Dog will hold this position."

Then he pointed toward the opposite side of the map.

"Odessa and Daryl will be here... in the alley closest to the tank."

Daryl frowned.

"Why us?"

A small smile crossed Glenn's face.

"Because with your crossbow and Odessa's knife..."

"...you can protect me without firing a single shot."

"No gunfire means we won't attract the rest of them."

Then he traced the escape route.

"The second I get the bag, we all fall back to the intersection and head straight for the railroad tracks where we left the truck."

When he finished speaking, silence lingered for a few seconds.

The plan...

...was simple.

But it made sense.

We exchanged glances before Rick nodded appreciatively.

"That's a good plan."

T-Dog nodded as well.

"I like it."

Daryl simply stared at Glenn for a moment before asking out of nowhere,

"What'd you do before all this?"

Glenn blinked in confusion.

"I delivered pizzas..."

He tilted his head.

"Why?"

I couldn't help laughing.

It was obvious he hadn't understood the question.

I stepped closer, teasingly adjusting the brim of his cap before smiling.

"I think he's complimenting you."

Glenn looked even more confused, glancing between Daryl and me.

I smiled wider.

"You're a genius."

A shy smile spread across his face.

He scratched the back of his head awkwardly.

"I just..."

"...know Atlanta really well."

I tightened my grip around my hunting knife as I took my position at the mouth of the alley, just as we'd planned.

Beside me, Daryl adjusted his crossbow, nocked an arrow, and fixed his gaze on the street ahead, watching for any movement that might threaten us.

Across the intersection, Glenn prepared himself.

I turned toward him and whispered,

"Be careful."

He nodded with nervous confidence and took one deep breath.

Just before he sprinted off, Daryl muttered without taking his eyes off the street,

"Chinese sure are brave."

Glenn didn't even pause.

"I'm Korean."

Daryl shrugged.

"Whatever."

The next second...

Glenn was gone.

He darted between abandoned cars, racing toward the tank while the walkers remained blissfully unaware of him.

I tightened my grip on my knife, keeping my attention fixed on the entrance to the alley, ready to intercept any walker that wandered too close.

Daryl covered the longer distances with his crossbow.

Seconds crawled by.

Far longer than they should have.

Then Glenn reappeared.

He was running as fast as he could, dragging the heavy duffel bag of weapons behind him.

Relief spread across my face.

Only to vanish an instant later.

Right behind him...

Two men were sprinting after him.

They were firing their guns at us.

I gasped and turned toward Daryl.

He didn't need a single word.

The first arrow flew.

Then the second.

Both struck the walkers that had been about to cut Glenn off, dropping them before they could reach him.

The moment Glenn reached the alley, I lunged toward the chain-link gate, grabbing it with both hands and trying to drag it shut, hoping to buy us a few precious seconds.

The plan collapsed.

A third man burst out behind us without warning.

Daryl spun to meet him.

At the same time, the other two men slammed into the gate, forcing it back open.

Everything happened in the blink of an eye.

One of them tackled Glenn to the ground, raining punches down on him while trying to rip the weapons bag from his grip.

The second rushed over to help.

I never gave him the chance.

Throwing myself forward, I leapt onto his back.

My arms locked around his neck as I hauled backward with everything I had, trying to drag him to the ground.

He staggered beneath my weight, violently trying to throw me off.

I held on with every ounce of strength I had.

Within seconds...

The alley descended into complete chaos.

Shouting.

Fists.

Scattered gunfire.

The deafening echoes of each shot drawing more walkers toward us.

Every one of us was fighting our own battle.

Then—

A car screeched to a stop beside the alley.

The driver's window rolled down.

"Come on! Get in! Move!"

It was their car.

The larger man seized the opportunity.

He grabbed Glenn by the front of his jacket and yanked him toward the vehicle while the weapons bag remained trapped between his hands.

I reacted without thinking.

I threw myself forward and grabbed both Glenn and the duffel bag, digging my boots into the pavement as I fought with everything I had to keep them from pulling it away.

The other man shouted as he wrestled for the bag.

None of us was willing to let go.

Then—

An arrow shot past me.

"AAAGH!"

It buried itself deep into the back of the man's thigh.

He cried out in pain and stumbled away, and I could've sworn I heard Daryl curse under his breath as he reached for another arrow.

But he couldn't help us.

The third man was still locked in a fight with him, keeping him from getting any closer.

The other two seized the opening.

Together, they grabbed Glenn and me and shoved us violently into the car while the weapons bag remained wedged between us.

I slammed into the back seat, my shoulder crashing hard against the door.

At that same moment, the wounded man ripped the arrow from his leg with a furious scream, jumped into the passenger seat, and slammed the door shut.

The engine roared.

The car lurched forward at full speed.

The last thing I saw through the rear window...

...was Daryl.

Still fighting the third man alone—

I spoke calmly, drawing everyone's attention.

They looked at me in silence, so I shrugged and added with a faint hint of sarcasm,

"What? Any noise could attract the walkers, and then we'll end up trapped here again... except this time, there won't be any way back."

T-Dog nodded in agreement and steered the truck off the road, stopping beside an abandoned railway track, well away from the city's main streets. We exchanged brief glances before climbing out, deciding to continue the rest of the way into Atlanta on foot.

After a short discussion, it was decided that the five of us would go back: Rick, Glenn, T-Dog, Daryl, and me.

Our first objective was to rescue Merle.

The second was to retrieve a bag full of weapons and ammunition that Rick had been forced to leave beside the tank when he became trapped there.

Fortunately, Glenn knew Atlanta's streets like the back of his hand. It didn't take us long at all. He guided us through narrow alleys and hidden shortcuts until, within minutes, we found ourselves standing in front of the department store once again.

The moment my eyes landed on the storefront, my brows drew together.

Two days ago, the shattered entrance had been swarming with dozens of walkers.

Now...

It was completely empty.

No movement.

No groans.

Not even a single corpse dragging itself across the pavement.

A heavy silence settled over the area, making it feel even more unsettling than before.

Daryl was the first to move.

He raised his crossbow, an arrow already nocked, carefully sweeping the entrance with sharp, alert eyes.

Rick followed close behind him.

Then came T-Dog.

Glenn walked after them, the heavy supply bag slung across his back.

As for me...

I took up the rear.

I stepped into the store slowly, walking backward, my eyes fixed on the path we'd come from. My hand never left the hunting knife tucked into my back pocket as I kept watching the street behind us, wary that something might catch us off guard.

After several cautious, calculated movements—and once we were certain the building was completely deserted—T-Dog hurried toward the staircase leading to the roof.

The moment he started climbing, Daryl pushed past him, taking the stairs two at a time.

The rest of us followed close behind.

When we reached the rooftop door, it was exactly as T-Dog and I had left it.

Still chained shut.

Daryl grabbed the handle with both hands and yanked violently before shouting at the top of his lungs.

"Merle!"

His voice echoed between the surrounding buildings.

No answer.

He called again, louder this time, and I could already hear the worry creeping into his voice.

"MERLE!"

Nothing.

The silence...

...was heavier than any reply could have been.

T-Dog rushed to Glenn's backpack and pulled out the bolt cutters.

He clamped them around the chain and squeezed with all his strength.

The metal snapped with a sharp crack.

Then he drove his boot into the door.

It burst open.

We all rushed outside.

Daryl shot past everyone, sprinting across the rooftop like a man possessed, searching every corner while shouting his brother's name over and over again.

The rest of us...

Instinctively headed toward the spot where we'd handcuffed Merle two days earlier.

Then we all stopped.

Everything...

...was exactly where we'd left it.

The pipe.

The handcuffs.

The bloodstains.

Everything—

Except Merle.

He was gone.

My eyes settled on the handcuffs still locked around the pipe.

Then, slowly...

My gaze dropped lower.

To the severed hand still trapped inside them.

I froze.

Beside it lay a small hacksaw, its blade stained dark with blood.

Silence swallowed us.

A suffocating silence, broken only by Daryl's ragged breathing as he approached.

He stopped in front of the scene and stared.

For several long seconds, he didn't move.

It was as though his mind refused to accept what his eyes were seeing.

Then he snapped.

He stormed across the rooftop in a frenzy, shouting Merle's name again and again, tearing across the roof like a wounded animal searching desperately for its pack.

Without warning, he spun around.

His crossbow came up.

The arrow pointed straight at T-Dog's head.

At the very same instant, Rick drew his revolver and leveled it at Daryl.

"Lower the crossbow."

His voice was calm...

But left no room for argument.

Daryl didn't budge.

Instead, he pulled the string back even farther, his eyes locked on T-Dog.

Rick inhaled slowly.

"I can pull the trigger right now."

His voice hardened.

"In one second."

"And I don't care how many walkers the gunshot brings."

"So lower... the crossbow."

The tension was suffocating.

Neither man looked away.

For several endless seconds, they stood frozen, weapons aimed at one another.

Finally...

Daryl let out a furious breath.

The bowstring slackened.

He lowered the crossbow.

But the rage never left his face.

I quietly stepped away from them and began examining the rooftop.

That's when I noticed it.

A thin trail of blood.

Scattered droplets stretched across the concrete, leading all the way to the edge of the roof...

...where they abruptly stopped.

I walked over to Daryl and gently rested a hand on his shoulder.

He turned toward me, his face a storm of anger and confusion.

Without saying a word, I pointed toward the blood.

His eyes followed the trail to its end.

Then he slowly knelt beside it, touching one of the crimson stains with the tips of his fingers.

Suddenly, he looked up at Glenn.

"You got a rag?"

Glenn nodded toward his backpack without saying a word.

Daryl hurried over, pulled out a clean cloth, and returned to the handcuffs.

With surprising care...

He picked up Merle's severed hand.

He wrapped it carefully in the cloth as though it were something precious, despite the blood soaking through the fabric.

He stared at it for a few long moments.

Then he reached down and brushed his fingers over the fresh blood on the rooftop.

Looking back at us, he spoke with quiet certainty—a flicker of hope breaking through his grief.

"The blood's still wet..."

He rose to his feet.

"It hasn't been long."

His grip tightened around the wrapped hand.

Then a second drop fell…

and a third…

Within seconds, the rain poured down heavily.

My eyes widened.

“No…”

The word left my lips in a whisper.

I looked back at the street.

The rainwater was slowly washing the blood off their clothes.

The walkers began to slow.

Then their heads started turning toward them.

As if the entire herd had realized the truth at the exact same moment.

“Run!”

I screamed at the top of my voice, even though I knew they couldn’t hear me.

Below…

Rick and Glenn were running at full speed, while the crowd behind them erupted into a violent chase.

Chaos spread across the rooftop.

Suddenly, a massive impact echoed.

I turned toward the source just in time to see a huge truck crashing through the garage front, shattering glass, then forcing its way forward… toward us.

A smile of victory appeared on my face before I even realized it.

“They made it!”

As soon as someone shouted it, everyone rushed toward the stairs, heading to the rendezvous point we had agreed on.

T-Dog had already finished carrying all the supply bags, distributing them across his shoulders and back.

I grabbed my bag and ran beside him toward the rooftop door.

“Let me out, you idiots! Are you going to leave me here?!”

Merle’s voice froze us both.

T-Dog and I turned at the same time.

We had completely forgotten about him.

T-Dog hesitated.

As for me…

For the first time in my life, I found myself placing the safety of the group above one man’s life.

A harsh thought crossed my mind; if we freed Merle now, he might start another fight, or ruin our only chance of escape.

But…

Leaving a human being chained up to face that fate…

I couldn’t accept it.

I swallowed my thoughts and quickly lifted the heavy bags off T-Dog’s shoulders.

“Quick!”

He didn’t hesitate.

He grabbed the key and ran toward Merle.

But while he was approaching him, his foot hit a metal pipe.

He lost his balance.

And fell.

The key flew out of his hand and rolled across the concrete.

T-Dog rushed after it, trying to grab it.

But…

It disappeared into a drainage opening.

Silence fell.

“You idiot!”

Merle screamed furiously, thrashing in place, while curses poured out of his mouth, mixed with rage and fear.

I stood watching him helplessly.

Part of me knew I was responsible for what had happened to him.

But the other part…

couldn’t ignore the terror in his eyes.

The fear of a man who knew exactly what awaited him if the dead reached that rooftop.

T-Dog slowly stood up and looked at him with silent regret.

Then he grabbed my wrist and pulled me with him.

And even though I followed him…

I kept turning back.

Merle was screaming, begging, and cursing us at the same time.

But his voice became weaker with every step we took away.

Before going down, T-Dog grabbed the metal chain and locked the rooftop door, in a desperate attempt to delay the walkers.

Then we rushed downstairs.

We reached the iron gate leading outside and waited.

And at that exact moment, a loud crash echoed.

Glass shattered at the front of the store, and the walkers began pouring inside.

I held my breath.

Then…

We heard the engine stop in front of the door.

The iron gate was lifted from outside.

It was Rick.

“Come on! Get in quickly!”

No one needed to be told twice.

We all rushed toward the truck, pure survival instinct driving us.

The moment I stepped onto its edge, I felt cold fingers wrap around my ankle.

I turned.

A walker had grabbed my leg.

Before it could pull me, the truck surged forward, and its grip slipped as it was swallowed by the crowd behind us.

The truck moved forward, cutting through streets emptied of human life.

We had left Atlanta.

Finally.

Relief seeped into my heart for the first time in hours. Yes, the world around us was collapsing, and tomorrow was still unknown, but simply surviving that ordeal was enough to ease the weight on my chest.

I glanced at Rick.

He was driving the truck, his eyes fixed on the road, but the smile on his face revealed what he was feeling inside.

I smiled without realizing it.

There was only a short distance left between him and Lori and Carl.

I turned my gaze toward the window, but my thoughts drifted elsewhere.

To my father.

Was he still looking for us?

Did he feel what Rick was feeling now, not knowing whether we were alive or among the dead?

Did he survive too?

Or… would I never see him again?

Questions filled my mind, and with each one, my longing for him grew heavier.

“Where is Glenn?”

Andrea’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts.

I quickly raised my head and began looking around the truck.

Rick at the wheel.

Morales beside him.

Me, Andrea, and T-Dog in the back with the supplies…

But Glenn…

He wasn’t here.

Panic took over me.

I straightened up and moved closer to Rick’s seat.

“Where is Glenn?”

Rick smiled, as if he had been expecting the question.

“Don’t worry, he’s fine.”

We all exhaled in relief, but he continued with a quiet laugh.

“When he saw a car of his favorite model, he insisted on driving it back himself to the camp.”

We exchanged looks.

Then all of us sighed in relief.

I leaned back against the truck wall and let out a long breath.

I couldn’t believe it…

After everything we had been through that day…

We survived.

As soon as our truck reached the outskirts of the camp, Rick stopped it behind a red car that hadn’t been there when we left.

He glanced at it briefly, then smiled.

“Looks like Glenn beat us here.”

I smiled too, realizing that this must be the car he insisted on bringing.

T-Dog opened the door and jumped out, followed by Andrea, and then I got out after them.

The moment my feet touched the ground, my mother rushed toward me.

She hugged me tightly until I could barely breathe, and Jackie and Lucas quickly joined in.

I laughed in their arms and held them all tightly.

Only then did I realize how long those hours in Atlanta had felt… long enough to make me miss them as if days had passed instead of hours.

And I wasn’t the only one.

Across the camp, everyone was reuniting with their loved ones.

Morales hugged his wife and children, Andrea ran to Amy, and the moment she embraced her, Amy broke down in tears while Andrea kept patting her back, reassuring her.

My mother pulled back slightly and checked my face with both hands.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

I smiled and placed my hand over hers.

“I’m fine, Mom.”

She sighed in relief and hugged me again.

I smiled, then had an idea.

“Mom… guess who came back with us to the camp.”

I didn’t even finish my sentence.

“Dad!”

Carl’s voice echoed through the camp as he ran full speed toward Rick, who had just stepped out from between the cars.

I laughed and shook my head in defeat.

He had stolen my surprise announcement.

Rick bent down quickly and lifted Carl into his arms, holding him tightly and kissing him repeatedly, unable to believe he was seeing him again.

And at that moment, Lori arrived.

She threw herself into her husband’s arms, staring at his face as if afraid it was a dream, then began kissing and hugging him, holding both Rick and Carl together while her tears mixed with laughter.

Rick held them both tightly, unable to stop looking at them, as if trying to memorize their faces all over again.

I stood watching the scene with a calm smile.

In the past days, Lori and Carl hadn’t had time to grieve or even process the idea of loss. The disaster had forced us all to keep moving, no matter the losses, as if survival didn’t allow space for breaking down.

And because of that…

Seeing this family reunited in a collapsing world was enough to give me a rare feeling of hope.

Even if only for a few moments.

That night, we gathered around a modest meal to celebrate Rick’s return and our survival in Atlanta.

We sat around the burning fire, sharing whatever food and drinks we had. Even though the camp felt warmer than ever, our laughter remained quiet and our conversations soft; the darkness outside the fire circle hid only death, and any loud noise could reveal our location to those monsters.

Silence fell for a moment before Glenn broke it.

“…Do you think the dead reached Merle?”

I slowly turned to look at him.

I didn’t find an answer.

And neither did anyone else.

We all knew the truth… even if the rooftop door had held, leaving a man chained alone meant a death sentence, sooner or later.

Dale sighed while staring at the flames.

“How are we going to tell Daryl?”

He dropped the question over us like a stone, and we exchanged uneasy looks.

None of us dared to face Daryl, or tell him that we had chained his brother to a pipe on a rooftop in Atlanta… and then left him behind.

Morales scratched the back of his neck nervously.

“He might turn the camp upside down if he finds out.”

He wasn’t exaggerating.

No matter how troublesome Merle was, he was still the only family Daryl had.

Rick broke the silence, looking at us in confusion.

“Who is Daryl?”

Glenn answered calmly.

“Daryl Dixon… Merle’s younger brother. They both live with us in the camp, but they don’t interact much with the group. Daryl is even more withdrawn than his brother.”

Rick stayed silent for a moment, then said firmly:

“I’ll talk to him. I’ll tell him everything.”

But T-Dog shook his head immediately.

“No… I’ll do it.”

A heavy silence followed before he added:

“It was my fault Merle stayed there.”

I lowered my eyes toward the fire.

I didn’t want to intervene.

All I could think about was Daryl… and how he would take the news.

Yes, Merle had caused nothing but trouble for the group, but the undeniable truth was that, for Daryl, he wasn’t just a problem…

He was his brother.

I opened my eyes to the morning light slipping through the trees.

I rubbed my eyes lazily, and as soon as I sat up, I noticed Dale.

He smiled gently.

“Good morning.”

I smiled back, still shaking off sleep.

“Good morning… and thank you for letting me sleep in your RV. Our neighbors were very loud last night.”

I rolled my eyes in annoyance, and Dale chuckled, patting my shoulder kindly.

“Anytime.”

Then he climbed into his RV and went up to his watch platform as usual, while I walked toward the lake to wash my face.

As soon as I arrived, I heard a familiar voice.

“Good morning.”

I looked up and saw Carol kneeling by the lake, gently washing Sophia’s hair.

“Good morning.”

I bent down to wash my face with cold water, before her question reached me.

“Were you able to sleep last night?”

I looked up at her, and from the way she looked at me, I immediately understood what she meant.

Carol’s tent was only a few meters away from Lori and Rick’s… and from ours too.

I smiled shyly and shook my head.

She laughed and shook her head in disbelief.

“Me neither.”

I laughed with her, then continued walking through the camp.

I noticed my mother hanging freshly washed clothes on a line, so I walked over to her.

I stood beside her and said without hesitation:

“When are you going to cook? I’m starving.”

She smiled while continuing to hang the clothes.

“Rick and Shane went hunting. When they come back, we’ll start.”

I nodded, then asked:

“And where are Luke and Jackie?”

She answered without turning around:

“They’re still asleep… and Carl is with them.”

She glanced at me from the corner of her eye, as if waiting for my reaction.

And I couldn’t help it.

I burst out laughing.

At that moment, Lori came out of her tent fixing her hair, and the moment I saw her, my laughter doubled.

She narrowed her eyes at me and walked over, then lightly hit the back of my head.

“Good job.”

I laughed while rubbing my head.

“You two could at least be a little quieter.”

Lori couldn’t hold back her laugh either and shrugged.

“Next time we’ll try.”

I turned at the sound of footsteps approaching the camp.

Daryl was walking at the front, his bow over his shoulder and a bundle of dead squirrels in hand, calling for Merle, while Shane followed behind him dragging his rifle, with Rick behind them walking calmly.

Daryl had finally returned from the hunt.

And from the moment he appeared, silence fell over the camp.

We exchanged looks in heavy silence; all of us knew this moment was unavoidable.

Since returning from Atlanta, we had carried the burden of telling him what happened to Merle, but when the moment finally came… I realized I didn’t have the courage to face his eyes.

Shane stepped forward, taking control of the situation.

“Daryl… wait. We need to talk. About Merle.”

Daryl frowned, scanning the camp.

His eyes landed on us; everyone who had gone to Atlanta… and then he noticed the only missing person.

He looked back at Shane.

“What… is he dead?”

Silence.

Shane lowered his gaze, hesitant.

“I’m not sure.”

Daryl snapped.

“Either he’s dead or he isn’t!”

Rick stepped forward, saving Shane from the task.

He knew, as we all did, that Daryl wouldn’t accept this easily.

He said calmly:

“There’s no easy way to say this… so I’ll just say it.”

Daryl turned to him.

“And who are you?”

“Rick Grimes.”

Daryl stared at him for a moment, then said sharply:

“So, Rick Grimes… do you have something to tell me?”

Rick didn’t hesitate.

He looked him straight in the eye.

“Your brother was a danger to the group… so I handcuffed him on the rooftop of a building in Atlanta.”

Silence.

Daryl froze.

Then let out a bitter laugh and started pacing back and forth, trying to process it.

He suddenly stopped and turned to Rick.

“Let me get this straight…”

“You chained my brother to a rooftop… and left him there?”

“Yes.”

The word barely left Rick’s mouth—

when Daryl grabbed a nearby chair, lifted it with both hands, and threw it at him with all his strength.

Rick ducked just in time, and the chair flew past him and crashed behind him.

Shane immediately rushed in, grabbed Daryl from behind, and slammed him to the ground, restraining him.

Rick bent down to Daryl’s level and said firmly:

“What I did wasn’t pointless. Your brother put the group in danger and almost got us all killed… now can we talk?”

Daryl glared at him, unable to do anything since Shane was holding him down tightly, so Rick asked again in a harsher tone:

“Can we talk?”

This made Shane release him. Daryl crawled back, catching his breath.

T-Dog had just returned from collecting firewood, and the moment he realized what was happening, he quickly dropped the wood and approached.

“I’m sorry… this isn’t all Rick’s fault. The keys were with me… I dropped them.”

“Couldn’t you pick them up?” Daryl asked sharply, out of breath.

“They fell into a sewer… by accident,” T-Dog replied, avoiding his gaze.

Despite Merle’s cruelty and constant trouble, we all felt guilty for leaving him there.

Daryl stood up and walked toward T-Dog, his arms slicing through the air.

“That doesn’t make me feel any better!”

I stepped forward beside T-Dog and spoke.

There was something inside me hoping my words would ease him, even slightly.

“Before we left, T-Dog locked the rooftop door with chains to keep the dead from reaching him.”

Daryl looked at me, his expression tight and angry.

We held eye contact for a few seconds before Rick intervened.

“There’s still hope.”

“Damn you all… just tell me where he is so I can get him.”

Daryl rubbed his eyes in frustration and turned his back to us.

Silence returned, filled only with his angry and exhausted breathing.

Lori, leaning against Dale’s RV door, spoke in a calm voice while looking at Rick with a dark expression, as if placing all the blame on him.

“He’ll show you where it is.”

Rick looked at her but didn’t respond. Instead, I nodded and said:

He wrenched the pistol from his hand, twisted one of his arms behind his back, and snapped a pair of handcuffs around his wrist before securing the other end to one of the metal pipes running across the rooftop.

Merle groaned, shaking his head as he struggled to regain his bearings.

"Who the hell are you?"

Rick crouched in front of him without the slightest hint of hesitation.

"The good sheriff..." he replied evenly. "Rick Grimes."

Merle chuckled despite the throbbing pain in his skull.

Rick rose back to his feet, his expression turning cold.

"Listen carefully."

The rooftop fell silent.

"The world you knew is gone."

His voice was calm, but every word landed with weight.

"There isn't any democracy anymore. No dictatorships either."

He gestured toward the sea of walkers flooding the streets below.

"No black. No white. None of the labels you're still clinging to."

His eyes locked onto Merle's.

"There are only the living..."

He paused.

"...and the dead."

No one spoke.

Even Merle's smug expression seemed to falter for a heartbeat.

Rick continued.

"If any of us are going to survive this..."

He glanced briefly at the rest of us.

"...then we start acting like one group instead of tearing each other apart."

Merle leaned his head back against the pipe and laughed mockingly.

"And what are you gonna do now, Officer?"

Rick stepped closer.

"Nothing."

A faint smile crossed his face, though there wasn't a trace of humor in it.

"I'm just a man trying to get back to his wife and son."

He leaned down until they were nearly eye level.

"Anyone who gets in the way of that..."

His voice dropped.

"...becomes an obstacle."

Merle answered with the same mocking grin.

Rick simply smirked back, tapped him lightly on the nose with one finger, then turned and walked toward us.

Every pair of eyes followed him.

"I've got an idea."

• • •

"According to the map, there's an exit through the basement."

I held up the building's blueprint while tracing one finger along the route.

"Alright," Morales said. "Who's volunteering to go check it out?"

I slowly raised my head from the map...

...and looked directly at Glenn.

One eyebrow lifted.

"Me?"

He pointed at himself in disbelief.

I nodded innocently.

"You still owe me a favor after I beat you."

He scoffed.

"You cheated."

I shrugged.

"A win is a win."

A mischievous smile tugged at my lips as I motioned toward the basement door.

Glenn sighed in surrender.

"I can go first," Andrea offered.

But Glenn shook his head before she could take another step.

"It's fine."

He adjusted his backpack.

"I'm used to this kind of thing... and if everything goes wrong, I'm still the fastest one here."

Rick and I exchanged a glance before nodding at the same time.

"Be careful," Rick said.

Glenn answered with a quick nod before disappearing down the stairs.

The minutes crawled by.

Each one felt longer than the last.

Then...

His voice echoed up from below.

"It's clear!"

A collective sigh of relief escaped the group.

One by one, we headed downstairs.

I made my way straight to the back door.

Carefully...

I eased it open just enough to peek outside.

The alley was crawling with walkers.

Five of them wandered through the passage.

Two stood dangerously close to the door itself.

I quietly closed it again before turning back.

"Rick..."

I lowered my voice.

"Five in the alley. Two are right outside."

He gave a short nod.

"Open it all the way."

I did.

The instant the door swung open, Rick burst outside.

Bang. Bang.

Two perfectly placed shots.

Both walkers dropped where they stood.

Moments later, Morales rushed out to help drag the bodies inside.

As soon as they were clear, I shut the door again.

There they were.

Two lifeless corpses stretched out across the basement floor.

Everyone stood around them in complete silence, arms folded, staring.

I finally broke it.

"...You mean we're actually supposed to cut them open?"

My voice came out barely above a whisper.

Rick nodded.

"Glenn and I are going to cover ourselves with their blood... and their insides."

He looked between us.

"If we smell like them, they won't recognize us as easily. We'll walk through the herd, find a vehicle, and come back here for the rest of you."

Everyone nodded in understanding.

Everyone...

Except Glenn.

He stared at the bodies with a mixture of horror and disgust.

I couldn't help smiling.

I crouched beside one of the corpses and drew my knife.

The blade hovered over its abdomen.

"Time to get to work."

I murmured.

Then I drove the knife across its stomach in one clean horizontal slice.

Dark blood slowly pooled across the concrete floor.

"Oh..."

Glenn gagged quietly as Rick knelt beside the body, reached into the open cavity, and began smearing the blood and entrails over the poncho he'd thrown on over his clothes.

Glenn pinched his nose shut and instinctively backed away.

I, on the other hand...

Found his misery endlessly entertaining.

I wiped my bloodstained hand across the front of Glenn's poncho.

"No... no, Odessa..."

he protested, trying to dodge me.

I ignored him completely.

The paler his face became, the harder it was to hold back my laughter.

Then, just to make things worse, I bent down, picked up a length of dangling intestine, and draped it around his neck like a necklace.

He stared at me in utter disbelief.

"...Seriously?"

He looked one second away from crying.

I bit the inside of my cheek, desperately trying not to burst out laughing.

"I'm protecting you."

I patted his shoulder.

"The worse you smell, the less likely they are to think you're food."

To finish my masterpiece, I drew two bloody streaks across his cheeks with my fingertips.

He shot me the most offended look I'd ever seen.

"I'm getting you back for this."

I shrugged with exaggerated innocence.

"I'm looking forward to it."

Once they were ready, Rick and Glenn each concealed an iron pipe beneath their ponchos.

I walked to the door and gave them one last look.

Then...

I opened it.

They stepped out into the alley.

I closed it again as quickly as I could.

"Come on."

Andrea called.

Morales and I followed her back up to the rooftop so we could watch their progress from above.

When we reached the top, nothing had changed.

Merle was still handcuffed to the pipes.

T-Dog sat against the wall, resting after the fight, keeping one wary eye on him.

The rest of us hurried to the edge of the roof.

Even T-Dog pushed himself to his feet and joined us.

Behind us, Merle kept shouting questions, demanding to know what was going on.

No one bothered answering.

From up there, the view was perfectly clear.

Rick and Glenn blended into the herd so well they looked like two more walkers wandering through the streets.

They moved slowly...

Patiently...

Surrounded on every side by the dead.

A chill crept down my spine.

The idea alone was horrifying.

Walking among those things...

Pretending to be one of them...

It felt less like a rescue plan...

...and more like a carefully planned suicide.

"It's working..."

Andrea whispered.

Hope spread across her face.

With every careful step Rick and Glenn took toward the parking lot...

Our own spirits lifted a little higher.

For the first time in hours...

It actually felt possible that we might get out of this alive.

T-Dog began gathering the bags of supplies, preparing for a quick escape once the truck arrived.

Morales helped him stack everything near the stairwell.

Andrea and I stayed at the edge of the roof.

Watching.

Waiting.

Nothing else.

"Hey!"

Merle yelled behind us.

"Get me out of these damn cuffs!"

His voice rose into a stream of curses and threats.

No one even looked at him.

Then...

Something cold landed on my forehead.

Another drop struck my cheek.

I instinctively touched it with my fingertips.

Water.

My stomach dropped.

"Oh... no."

I slowly lifted my eyes toward the sky.

Dark clouds had swallowed the sun.

Rain.

At first...

Only a few scattered drops.

Then, within seconds...

It turned into a downpour.

I snapped my gaze back to the street below.

The color drained from my face.

Rick and Glenn were running.

As fast as they could.

Behind them...

The walkers had broken into a furious chase.

The rain...

Had washed the blood away.

They were human again.

I asked Glenn the moment he climbed the fire escape leading to the rooftop, where we'd gone in search of a better view of our surroundings.

The sight waiting for him offered nothing but more disappointment.

Every street was blocked, packed with the dead from every direction. Our last hope had been the narrow passage connected to the fire escape, leading out to the main road beyond the swarm.

That hope was gone too.

"No use."

Glenn slowly shook his head.

Silence settled over us.

Despair crept across every face, one by one, and we were finally forced to acknowledge the truth we'd been trying to ignore since the beginning.

We were trapped.

And there didn't seem to be any way out.

"Great... just great."

Merle commented with an infuriating grin, as though our hopeless situation amused him.

My irritation flared instantly.

"Could you shut up and contribute by staying silent, for once?"

The venom in my voice was enough to make everyone turn toward me.

Maybe I'd overreacted.

But that creature had a remarkable talent for making my blood boil.

"Alright, everyone... let's stay calm. We'll find another way. There has to be an exit somewhere."

Andrea stepped in once again, trying to ease the tension.

T-Dog let out a frustrated sigh.

"The sun's almost overhead. We've been stuck here for half the day and still haven't figured out anything."

I rested both hands on my hips.

I was exhausted—from all the running, from this impossible situation.

My head felt like it was about to split open.

"Hey, you. Keep your negativity to yourself."

Merle tossed out another one of his usual provocations.

T-Dog had clearly reached his limit. He took a step toward him, ready to throw a punch, but I quickly moved in front of him and grabbed his arm.

"Please... don't. You know he's trying to get under your skin."

I met his eyes and gave him a small nod.

I understood.

We all did.

Merle had become the thorn lodged in everyone's side.

I returned to the edge of the rooftop and stared across the skyline, hoping—desperately—that some idea would come to me.

Instead...

I caught sight of Glenn.

He was sprinting through the alley with another man beside him while a swarm of walkers chased them.

"Glenn!"

I shouted, jumping to my feet.

Everyone rushed over to the ledge.

That idiot...

He knew the alley was crawling with walkers.

Why would he go down there?

I watched anxiously as the two of them reached the fire escape and climbed upward after a desperate escape.

I finally let out the breath I'd been holding.

The second Glenn reached the roof, I shoved him hard in the chest.

"Have you completely lost your mind?!"

Still panting, he pointed his thumb toward the man standing behind him.

"Last I checked, this idiot was trapped inside a tank. I tried guiding him from up here, but he's dumb enough to get himself lost anyway."

The stranger was wearing a sheriff's uniform.

At first...

I didn't recognize him.

I was too busy taking in his exhausted appearance, the dust covering his clothes and face.

Then our eyes met.

The moment my gaze settled on his face...

I froze.

A sharp gasp escaped me.

Hope and despair.

Joy and grief.

Disbelief and certainty.

Every emotion crashed together inside me at once.

"Dess..."

"...Rick."

His name barely escaped my lips.

Even I couldn't believe what my own eyes were seeing.

Then reality finally caught up with me.

He rushed toward me wearing the same stunned smile I imagined was on my own face, as if he feared I'd disappear if he wasted another second.

"Rick... Oh my God... you're alive!"

My voice cracked.

My eyes filled with tears as I threw my arms around him, holding him tightly—

Like someone who had just been given back a person they'd already mourned.

~~

"Lori and Carl are going to be thrilled you're alive... assuming we actually make it out of here."

I finished speaking after filling Rick in on everything that had happened since the outbreak began.

We sat together in one corner of the store as I told him about the camp, our countless attempts to survive, and every opportunity we'd chased—every possible escape route we'd hoped might save us—only to watch each one fall apart in the end.

His gaze lingered on my face.

"What's that cut on your cheek?"

He asked, pointing to the scratch on my right cheek.

I absentmindedly brushed my fingers over it, only then noticing the faint sting.

A small smile tugged at my lips.

"I did it on purpose. Thought it might earn me a little attention from you."

I teased.

Rick let out a quiet laugh and gently flicked my forehead.

"Thank God you're all alright." His smile softened. "We'll figure something out."

I returned the smile, wiping at my face.

But our brief moment didn't last.

A gunshot echoed from somewhere above us.

Rick and I exchanged a glance before both of us sprang to our feet, racing upstairs with the others.

When we reached the rooftop, Merle was standing on the ledge with his rifle, calmly firing into the street below.

Several walkers dropped one after another.

"Dixon! What the hell are you doing?!"

Morales shouted as he rushed toward him.

Merle ignored him and squeezed the trigger again.

"Have you lost your damn mind?!" T-Dog barked. "We agreed to save our ammunition for when we really need it!"

Merle looked over his shoulder with a smug grin.

"Can't you see? I'm trying to clear these freaks out so we can get the hell out of here."

He gestured toward the street below.

"Meanwhile, the rest of you are hiding downstairs like rats."

"You don't have enough bullets to kill all of them."

I cut in sharply.

"Every shot you fire only brings more."

Merle lowered his rifle from his shoulder and sauntered toward me, looking thoroughly entertained.

"Well then, sweetheart..."

His grin widened.

"What's your brilliant plan? Offer you up as bait while the rest of us make a run for it?"

Before I could answer...

He placed both hands on my hips.

Revulsion surged through me.

I shoved him hard in the chest and immediately stepped back.

At the same moment, T-Dog moved between us.

"We already told you to keep your hands off the women."

"Hey..."

Rick appeared beside me, one hand resting lightly on my shoulder.

"You alright?"

I nodded without taking my eyes off Merle.

"Who's this?"

Rick asked quietly, his gaze hardening.

I sighed.

"Don't mind him."

I rubbed my temple.

"He's an idiot whose full-time job is making everyone's life miserable."

Merle barked out a laugh.

"Look at you..."

He smirked at T-Dog.

"Trying to act like the man in charge."

He tilted his head.

"Sorry to disappoint you, but today's not your lucky day."

T-Dog stepped closer.

"you got something you wanna tell me?"

Merle's smile turned uglier.

"I'll tell you Mr yo..."

His voice dropped.

"The day I start taking orders from a fat—"

"You son of a bitch!"

T-Dog's fist flew toward his face.

Merle dodged at the last second.

Instead, he swung the butt of his rifle straight into T-Dog's face.

The crack echoed across the rooftop.

T-Dog hit the ground.

Everything exploded into chaos.

Morales lunged first, grabbing Merle from behind.

A single punch sent him crashing to the floor.

Rick tried stepping in, only to be forced back by the struggle.

Andrea and I instinctively retreated, watching helplessly as Merle rained punch after punch onto T-Dog.

"You think you're some kind of tough guy?"

Merle snarled.

Then—

He pulled a pistol from beneath his shirt.

Time froze.

He leveled the barrel directly at T-Dog's head.

Silence.

A twisted smile spread across his face as he admired everyone's horrified expressions.

"That's better."

Slowly...

He swept the pistol across the group.

"Now..."

His eyes gleamed with satisfaction.

"Who's in charge?"

His gaze lingered on each of us.

"Simple democracy."

He patted the pistol.

"Raise your hand if you agree."

His smile widened.

"Anyone who doesn't..."

He tapped the gun again.

"...can discuss it with this."

While Merle basked in his own speech, Glenn quietly slipped behind him, dragging the dazed T-Dog back toward us before helping him sit against the wall with a bottle of water.

As for me...

I simply raised my middle finger at Merle.

Andrea, on the other hand, slowly lifted her hand.

Not because she agreed.

Because none of us wanted to get shot.

Then—

Without warning—

CRACK!

Merle collapsed.

A shovel had slammed into the back of his head with enough force to send his pistol skidding across the rooftop.

Rick stood behind him, gripping the shovel with both hands.

Walkers.

Everywhere.

The back streets weren't any safer than the front.

If anything, they looked worse.

I grabbed Glenn's hand without thinking.

"Run."

That was all I said.

And we ran.

The walkers followed.

Slow.

Relentless.

No matter how much distance we created, they kept coming.

One foot after another.

One rotting corpse after another.

Refusing to stop.

Refusing to die.

By the time we finally reached the rendezvous point, my lungs felt like they were on fire.

Thankfully, everyone else had already returned.

Glenn and I were the last ones.

"Guys!"

I shouted between breaths.

"We need to leave. Now!"

We sprinted toward the vehicle.

At first, I didn't even notice the argument unfolding nearby.

Merle and T-Dog were yelling at each other again.

Nothing unusual there.

At least, not until everything went wrong.

Fast.

Merle shoved T-Dog.

Hard.

T-Dog's larger frame slammed against the side of the car.

Then came a sound that froze every single one of us.

BEEEEEEEEEP.

The car alarm.

My stomach dropped.

No.

No, no, no.

The shrill noise echoed through the streets.

Everyone stood motionless for one terrible second.

Then came the answer.

The walkers we'd been running from rounded the corner.

And they weren't alone.

The alarm had attracted more.

Far more.

They poured from side streets.

From alleyways.

From buildings.

An endless tide of bodies moving toward us.

My pulse hammered against my ribs.

We were surrounded.

"Move!" Andrea shouted.

She pointed toward a nearby department store.

"Inside!"

Nobody argued.

We ran.

As fast as we could.

The herd closed in behind us.

The moment the last person crossed the entrance, we slammed the security gate shut.

The walkers crashed against it seconds later.

The entire storefront rattled.

Then another impact.

And another.

And another.

Silence fell inside the store.

Not true silence.

Just the kind born from panic.

The kind where everyone is too busy listening to their own heartbeat.

I turned toward the glass entrance.

The sight made my blood run cold.

In daylight, the herd looked even larger than it had from the alley.

Dozens.

Maybe hundreds.

Packed shoulder to shoulder outside.

Waiting.

Watching.

I dragged both hands down my face and let out a frustrated groan.

"We agreed to stay calm."

T-Dog snorted.

"Tell that to Merle."

"Hey," Morales added sharply, glaring at him. "You should've kept your temper under control."

Merle leaned back against a clothing rack and spread his arms.

"Oh, so it's my fault now?"

His tone dripped with mockery.

Then his eyes landed on T-Dog.

"The man should've done his damn job."

The insult hit exactly where he intended it to.

"What did you just say?"

T-Dog stepped forward immediately.

His voice had gone dangerously quiet.

Andrea moved between them before things could escalate.

"Enough!"

Neither man looked happy.

Neither backed away.

But at least they stopped moving.

Andrea pointed toward Merle.

"If you wanted something specific, you should've gotten it yourself."

"We're not exactly in a position to be picky."

"Fine by me."

Merle shrugged.

His infuriating calm only made things worse.

"I got plenty of time now."

He gestured toward the massive herd outside.

"With that many of 'em out there, we might be here until we all starve."

I clenched my jaw.

Part of me wanted to throw something at him.

Because the worst part?

He wasn't entirely wrong.

Glenn stepped forward before another argument could start.

"There has to be another exit."

His voice was calm.

Steady.

Trying to pull everyone's attention back to the real problem.

I nodded immediately.

There had to be.

There had to be another way out.

Because if there wasn't...

We were dead.

Either torn apart by the walkers outside.

Or trapped inside this store until hunger finished the job first.

And somehow...

One blended into the next until nearly six weeks had gone by.

The people who had once been strangers had become part of my daily life.

Survival had a way of doing that.

It forced people together.

Made them depend on one another despite their differences.

Even Merle and his oddball brother, Daryl—who rarely interacted with the rest of us—had become part of the camp in their own way.

Though neither of them inspired much trust.

I rubbed the sleep from my eyes while tightening the straps on Glenn's backpack.

Across from us, Andrea checked her pistol.

T-Dog and Morales started the engine of the supply vehicle.

Meanwhile, Shane and Merle were locked in yet another heated argument.

This time over who would stay behind at camp.

Despite Dale's watchtower position atop the RV, Shane insisted it wasn't enough.

He didn't trust Jim.

He didn't trust Daryl.

Hell, he barely trusted Merle.

After a lengthy debate, the group settled the matter with a vote.

Merle would join the supply run.

Shane would stay behind.

Honestly, it was probably the best outcome.

No one in their right mind felt safe leaving Merle alone to guard their family.

~~

"Odessa."

A hand shook my shoulder.

"Wake up. We're here."

I blinked several times.

Everything looked blurry for a moment.

Rubbing my eyes, I slowly sat up.

I was still exhausted.

The sun hadn't fully risen yet.

And somehow, we were already inside Atlanta.

The early morning light filtered between the buildings, weak and pale, as though even daylight was reluctant to enter the city.

We gathered in a small circle beside the vehicle.

The plan was simple.

Split into pairs.

Collect whatever supplies we could find.

Then regroup and leave before attracting attention.

Before separating, everyone checked their weapons.

I adjusted the hunting knife tucked into the back of my jeans and made sure it was secure.

The teams were assigned quickly.

Andrea and T-Dog would search clothing stores.

Merle and Morales would focus on food supplies.

Glenn and I would hit the pharmacies.

The rules were straightforward.

Avoid heavily populated areas.

Stay quiet.

Move carefully.

And if things went wrong—

Run.

Glenn and I moved deeper into the city, nerves stretched tight.

Every pharmacy we encountered required the same process.

Check the entrance.

Listen.

Search for movement.

Only then go inside.

Thankfully, our first stop appeared deserted.

We entered immediately and split up.

Painkillers.

Antiseptics.

Bandages.

Burn cream.

Allergy medication.

Energy drinks.

We grabbed anything that looked useful.

Our biggest priority, however, was a proper first-aid kit.

Unfortunately, we didn't find one.

Which meant going deeper into Atlanta.

Neither of us was thrilled about that.

As we walked, Glenn suddenly stopped and crouched toward the ground.

I backed up a few steps automatically.

"What is it?"

Instead of answering, he picked up a small device and held it proudly in front of my face.

It looked like some kind of military tracker.

"Isn't this awesome?"

He examined it like a kid finding treasure.

"Look—it even has a camera."

I stared at him.

Then sighed.

"And how exactly is this going to help us survive?"

Without waiting for an answer, I continued walking.

"Wait, wait!"

Glenn hurried after me.

"It's working!"

He held up the screen.

The image displayed the interior of a military tank.

Inside sat nothing but the corpse of a dead soldier.

I barely glanced at it.

Instead, I smacked him lightly in the chest.

"Focus."

"We need at least one first-aid kit."

"You never know when we'll need it."

Glenn nodded sheepishly and adjusted his cap.

"Right."

For a while, we continued our search in silence.

Then Glenn suddenly raised a hand.

I stopped immediately.

Ahead of us stood another pharmacy.

The front door hung wide open.

Neither of us liked that.

An open door usually meant one thing.

Trouble.

We approached cautiously.

The deeper our eyes traveled into the building, the darker it became.

"Glenn."

I kept my voice low.

Without a word, he pulled a flashlight from his backpack and handed it to me.

I swept the beam across the shelves.

The counters.

The corners.

Then I saw it.

Someone was standing inside.

My grip tightened around the knife.

Slowly, I drew it from my waistband.

One step at a time, I advanced toward the figure.

Trying to position myself.

Trying to get close enough.

Close enough to drive the blade through its skull in one clean strike.

Then disaster struck.

My foot caught on a box lying on the floor.

I stumbled.

And fell.

The walker fell on top of me.

"Odessa!"

Glenn's horrified shout echoed through the pharmacy.

All I could see was a rotten face hanging over mine.

Its jaws snapped wildly as it tried to sink its teeth into me.

I shoved my forearm beneath its chin.

Holding it back.

Keeping its mouth away from my face.

With my free hand, I desperately searched the floor for my knife.

"Glenn!"

I called for help.

But he couldn't reach me.

More walkers had been drawn by the noise.

He was busy fighting them off.

Panic clawed at my chest.

My arms trembled under the strain.

The thing's face crept closer.

Closer.

For one horrible moment, I thought—

This is it.

Damn it.

I don't want to die.

Not like this.

Not being eaten alive.

Then my fingers brushed against something.

The knife.

Relief flooded through me.

I snatched it up and drove the blade straight through the walker's skull.

The body went limp immediately.

I shoved it away and scrambled to my feet.

Only to freeze.

A herd was coming.

The distance between us wasn't far.

At all.

Glenn knocked another walker aside.

I grabbed his arm.

"Move!"

We ran for the front entrance.

"Help me shut the door!"

Together we threw our weight against the glass doors.

The automatic mechanism had jammed.

It moved painfully slowly.

Outside, the walkers kept coming.

Closer.

Closer.

We pushed harder.

Every muscle screaming.

Finally—

The doors slid shut.

Glenn and I stumbled backward.

The herd slammed against the glass.

Again.

And again.

And again.

Glenn bent over, breathing hard.

"That door isn't gonna hold forever."

I leaned against a shelf, struggling to catch my breath.

"You okay?"

he asked.

I nodded.

"Yeah."

"Let's just find another way out."

He grabbed my wrist and pulled me along.

I followed without argument.

Then something caught my eye.

A first-aid kit.

Sitting on the highest shelf in the pharmacy.

I stopped dead.

"Wait."

Glenn turned around.

I handed him the flashlight.

"Stand over there."

"What?"

"Just do it."

Confused, he obeyed.

A few seconds later, I was climbing onto his shoulders.

"Odessa—"

"Hold still."

"We're going to fall."

I stretched toward the shelf.

Just a little farther.

"You're heavy!"

Glenn groaned.

"I can't feel my neck!"

I smacked the top of his head.

"Shut up."

"And give me the flashlight."

Holding the light above me, I stretched as far as I could.

My fingertips brushed the box.

Then grabbed it.

"Got it!"

I handed the first-aid kit down to Glenn before jumping back to the floor.

Mission accomplished.

Now all we had to do...

I sat on a rock beside the river, next to Mom as she scrubbed clothes using a bar of soap.

Resting my chin on my arms, I stared absentmindedly at the water.

Funny.

With the world on the verge of collapse, no one had thought to stockpile dish soap or cleaning supplies.

A week had passed since we settled at the camp.

It sat near an old quarry—a massive hollow in the mountains where people had once mined stone.

I still remembered that terrible night.

After hours of eerie silence, the explosions had started again.

One after another.

Shane's plan had been simple: get as far away from Atlanta as possible.

So we ran.

And somehow, we ended up here.

Living in tents among the mountains.

What a situation.

For a moment that night, I'd genuinely believed it was the end.

The authorities had announced that the virus spreading across the country was far worse than anyone had imagined.

After hearing Shane's account, I understood how dangerous things had become.

But understanding it wasn't the same as seeing it.

That came later.

When I saw one with my own eyes.

A corpse.

Pale.

Dead.

Lifeless.

And yet somehow walking.

Moving.

I had frozen in place as it shuffled toward me.

Unable to move.

Unable to think.

Then my legs had given out beneath me.

Was this what Dad had seen before he disappeared?

Could this be what happened to him too?

No.

The thought alone made my stomach twist.

Suddenly, an arrow pierced the thing's skull.

The corpse collapsed instantly.

My body jerked as reality came rushing back.

A few more seconds and I would've been dead.

I turned toward the source of the arrow.

A stranger emerged from the trees.

Medium height.

Lean but solidly built.

A rough-looking man with sharp features and short, messy brown hair.

A sleeveless leather vest hung over a faded shirt, giving him the appearance of someone who belonged in the wilderness more than among people.

His crossbow remained in his hand, looking less like a weapon and more like an extension of himself.

His eyes swept across the forest with cold precision.

As if he hadn't saved me out of kindness.

As if survival itself simply demanded it.

I pushed myself to my feet.

"Thanks."

He ignored me completely.

Then walked away.

Just like that.

I sighed and looked back toward the river.

That man...

I'd later learn from Shane that his name was Daryl.

He'd arrived at the camp alongside his older brother, Merle.

Even though he'd saved my life, neither of them inspired much confidence.

Especially Merle.

He constantly caused trouble around camp.

Argued with everyone.

Particularly T-Dog.

And flirted with every woman he saw in ways that made everyone uncomfortable.

Daryl mostly kept to himself, trailing after his brother like a shadow.

Because of that, I couldn't help assuming he wasn't much different.

Maybe quieter.

Maybe less obnoxious.

But probably just as dangerous.

As the days passed, more survivors joined us.

The larger the group became, the more the work was divided.

Mom, Carol, and Jackie handled most of the cooking and laundry.

Lori spent much of her time caring for Carl and the younger kids.

There weren't many children left.

Carl.

Lucas.

Sophia.

And Morales's children, whose family had joined us only a few days earlier.

Dale spent his days atop his RV, keeping watch over the horizon as if he never quite trusted the peace around us.

Shane and Andrea alternated hunting trips to keep food on the table.

Amy usually sat near the radio, trying to pick up signals from Atlanta.

Most of what she heard was static.

Still, none of us had completely given up hope.

Merle and Daryl turned out to be exceptional hunters.

Daryl especially.

But both brothers remained distant from the rest of us.

So whenever food supplies ran low, Glenn and I often found ourselves making supply runs into nearby towns.

Nothing had changed.

Every now and then, the radio crackled to life with fragmented updates and urgent warnings.

A virus.

That was the word they kept repeating.

A virus had spread across the country, plunging everything into chaos.

Shane had told me more about what he'd witnessed at the hospital while he and Dad had gone to visit Rick.

People eating people.

Not out of hunger.

Not out of desperation.

They attacked with a brutality that defied reason.

The government had responded with lethal force.

But by then...

The infection had already spread.

I sat in the driver's seat with the door left open.

Lucas and Carl sat on the ground in front of me, sharing a packet of crackers with Sophia—the daughter of a woman named Carol, whom we'd met during the endless hours trapped on the highway.

Jacqueline had finally surrendered to exhaustion and fallen asleep in the backseat.

Mom, however, hadn't closed her eyes once.

Every few minutes, she'd drift into silence, her gaze fixed somewhere far away before all the color slowly drained from her face.

I knew exactly what she was thinking about.

Dad.

I was worried about him too.

Terrified, even.

The possibility of never seeing him again was one none of us could accept.

I reached out and rested my hand gently on Mom's shoulder.

The touch pulled her from her thoughts.

She looked at me and offered a small, fragile smile.

"We'll be okay."

I nodded firmly.

Leaning closer, I pressed a kiss against her shoulder, searching for comfort in the familiar warmth of her embrace and the scent I'd known all my life.

A moment later, I felt her lips brush against my forehead.

For the briefest second, I allowed myself to believe that maybe...

Maybe this nightmare would end.

Maybe we'd wake up tomorrow and laugh about the ridiculous traffic jam that ruined Jacqueline's yacht trip.

Maybe Dad would answer his phone.

Maybe Rick wasn't really gone.

Maybe all of this would somehow make sense.

I closed my eyes.

The distant hum of car engines.

The crackling radio.

Lucas's quiet laughter as Carl said something I couldn't hear.

Mom's hand squeezing mine.

I memorized it all.

Because somewhere deep inside me—

Beneath the denial.

Beneath the hope.

Beneath the desperate need to believe everything would return to normal—

I already knew the truth.

The nightmare hadn't ended.

I tore my gaze away from the darkened sky and looked down at my mother as she shouted my name.

She pushed open the sunroof.

Without hesitation, I dropped through it and into the car.

"What's happening?"

Jacqueline's trembling voice caught me off guard.

I turned toward her, my expression just as lost as hers.

Lucas had curled up in her arms, and she held him tightly against her chest, shielding him from the chaos outside.

I looked back through the window.

The frenzy had settled somewhat.

Some people had returned to their cars.

Others stood helplessly in the middle of the road or lingered beside their vehicles, staring blankly into space.

Uneasy murmurs spread through the stranded crowd.

Everyone had their own theories.

Everyone had questions.

But no one had answers.

There was no response from the authorities.

No instructions.

No rescue.

It was as if time itself had stopped.

~~

Darkness eventually settled over Atlanta.

I glanced at my phone.

8:00 p.m.

I called my father's number again.

And again.

And again.

After hearing his voicemail for what felt like the thousandth time, I hung up and stared into the distance.

Nothing had changed.

The traffic remained frozen in place.

The fear only deepened with each passing second.

The radio crackled with static.

Emergency alerts repeated over and over, urging civilians to remain inside their homes and prioritize their safety.

My head throbbed.

The explosions had stopped, but no emergency services had arrived.

No one came to help.

People had begun spreading blankets on the ground or unfolding portable chairs outside their vehicles, surrendering themselves to the wait.

"Lucas!"

My mother's terrified scream snapped the thread of my thoughts.

She spun around wildly, eyes wide with panic.

"Lucas!"

The blood drained from my face.

My heart clenched painfully.

A little boy disappearing in the middle of a terrified crowd, under the cover of darkness...

There was only one explanation.

The chaos had swallowed him whole.

I swallowed hard against the dryness in my throat.

My mother's frantic cries drew the attention of those around us.

Some looked sympathetic.

Others looked away.

Powerless.

"Luc—"

Before I could finish saying his name, a familiar voice interrupted us.

"Mom! Dis! Jack! I'm over here!"

We all turned at once.

Lucas popped his head out of the window of the car parked directly in front of ours and waved excitedly.

The breath I'd been holding finally escaped me.

We rushed toward him.

"What are you doing here?" I demanded at the same time Mom scolded,

"Get down from there this instant!"

"How could you leave us and bother strangers like that?"

Lucas frowned.

"Carl isn't a stranger!"

I blinked.

Carl?

Right on cue, another boy leaned out of the window and gave us an awkward little wave.

"Sorry..." he said sheepishly. "Mom told me not to leave the car until she got back."

Recognition hit me instantly.

"Carl!"

He was Lucas's classmate.

The son of our neighbors.

The Grimes family.

"Where's Lori?" Mom asked.

All of us looked toward Carl expectantly.

Before he could answer, a soft voice called his name.

"Lori," I breathed.

She hurried toward us.

The moment she recognized us, she gasped.

Her eyes were red.

Her face looked exhausted.

But despite everything, she smiled and wrapped both Mom and me in a tight embrace.

The Starlings and the Grimeses went way back.

We'd been neighbors for nearly fifteen years.

Lori and Rick had moved into our neighborhood when I was ten years old.

Their house happened to be right next to ours.

Since both my father and Rick worked as sheriff's deputies, our families had grown close quickly.

"I'm so glad you're all alright," Lori said softly, wiping at her swollen eyes.

I glanced around before asking the question that had been lingering in my mind.

"How's Rick?"

Lori froze.

The color drained from her face.

She stared at me blankly before biting down on her lip.

Tears welled in her eyes.

I didn't understand.

I knew she'd been worried about her husband, but according to what Dad had heard, Rick had survived the surgery.

Dad had even gone to visit him at the hospital earlier that day.

"Lori... what's wrong?" Mom asked gently, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.

Carl remained unusually calm.

Too calm for a child who had just witnessed the collapse of the world around him.

And judging by Lori's expression...

No.

Surely not.

"Rick's dead."

The deep voice cut through the silence.

I looked up immediately.

Shane Walsh.

One of the deputies from the sheriff's department.

Lori let out a shaky breath.

Carl didn't react.

As if he'd already accepted it.

Unlike the rest of us.

We all gasped.

"This morning," Mom said hoarsely, "Edwin told me the surgery had gone well. He just needed time to wake up."

"How did this happen?" I asked. "Complications?"

Shane pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

"This morning, Deputy Edwin and I visited him at the hospital. The surgery had been successful. The doctor said Rick was still unconscious, but stable."

He hesitated.

Then continued.

"Around one in the afternoon, alarms started going off throughout the hospital."

His expression darkened.

"Everything fell apart."

"People were attacking each other."

"They were tearing each other apart."

"The federal forces started shooting civilians to regain control."

He swallowed hard.

"Edwin and I tried helping where we could, but we got separated."

"I went to Rick's room to get him out of there. The place had become a war zone."

His voice lowered.

"I disconnected the machines."

"I thought if I got him moving, I could save him."

He closed his eyes briefly.

"But his heart never responded."

"I tried everything."

"There was nothing else I could do."

"I had to leave his body behind."

Mom covered her mouth with trembling hands.

I couldn't move.

Couldn't breathe.

"What about Dad?"

Jacqueline's voice cracked as she interrupted.

The question sent a fresh wave of terror through me.

Dad hadn't answered any of my calls.

And according to Shane...

This wasn't just Atlanta.

The chaos.

The violence.

The disappearances.

It had spread far beyond the city.

Maybe all across Georgia.

"I'm sorry," Shane said quietly.

"We got separated."

"I haven't seen him since."

Fear tightened around my stomach.

Like a fist.

Dad...

Chapter One: The End of the world

The sound of car horns filled the street.

I stared through the windshield at the endless line of vehicles ahead of us and loosened my grip on the steering wheel before leaning my head back against the seat.

My little brother hadn't stopped complaining ever since he'd decided he wanted ice cream.

I wet my lips and answered him with dwindling patience.

"Lucas, once we get out of this traffic jam, I'll buy you all the ice cream you want."

I let out an irritated breath and glanced into the rearview mirror again.

People were beginning to lose their patience.

Questions. Cursing. Angry shouts. The collective frustration of hundreds of stranded drivers drifted through the road like smoke.

"Mom! It's already six fifteen!" Jacqueline cried from the backseat. "The yacht leaves at seven! We're going to be late!"

Barely surviving Lucas's complaints, I now had Jacqueline joining in. As understandable as her frustration was, I couldn't resist the urge to annoy her.

"Forget the yacht, Jackie. We'll hang that paper sailboat of yours in the backyard and shower it with chocolate like you're five years old."

"Mom!" Jacqueline shrieked in outrage.

"Odessa Starling!" my mother scolded. "Enough fooling around. Honestly, I can't believe you're still acting like this at your age."

Then she turned toward Jacqueline, softening immediately.

"Sweetheart, don't worry. We'll make it on time."

Jacqueline shoved her headphones back on and ignored me with an icy glare.

Lucas had long since grown tired of waiting in the traffic, just like the rest of us.

Atlanta had never been a stranger to crowded roads.

But this...

This was different.

Two whole hours had passed.

The cars remained trapped in place like lifeless corpses, engines shut off, while no ambulances or police cars appeared to explain the sudden paralysis.

And we waited.

Without answers.

I climbed out of the car and shut the door carelessly behind me.

"Wait here."

I moved forward with quick, steady strides.

Confusion, irritation, and anger painted the faces of everyone I passed.

The farther I walked, the stranger things became.

Near the front of the traffic jam, chaotic screaming erupted.

Two figures struggled violently against one another.

I broke into a run.

The distance was still too great.

Without thinking, I climbed onto the hood of someone's car to get a better view.

My breath caught in my throat.

Two men.

One of them had pinned the other to the ground.

He was tearing into the man's neck with animalistic savagery.

The victim thrashed helplessly beneath him.

Then suddenly—

His body jerked violently.

Blood sprayed into the air.

I gasped in horror.

People around me screamed.

A security officer raised his handgun and fired.

Once.

Twice.

Both men dropped after being shot in the head.

"What the..." I whispered.

A chill raced through my heart.

"You!" a rough voice barked behind me. "What the hell are you doing? Get off my car!"

I flinched and looked down.

"Sorry..." I climbed off hurriedly before blurting out, "Did you see that?"

"Get the hell away from me."

He shoved me hard enough that I stumbled backward and collided with someone else.

The person fell.

I turned immediately.

A frail-looking woman lay sprawled on the ground.

"Oh God, I'm sorry."

I crouched beside her and helped her up.

"It's alright," she murmured with a weak smile.

Her face was pale.

Sweat dripped down her temples.

She could barely stand.

"Get back in the car," the same man snapped.

The woman stiffened.

Her fearful eyes darted toward him before she gently slipped her hand from mine and obeyed.

I glanced at him.

Heavyset.

Ugly.

His expression harsh and sour.

A bottle of alcohol dangled from his hand as he took occasional swigs from it.

I raised my middle finger.

He answered with complete indifference.

Rolling my eyes, I turned away—

Only to freeze.

A military helicopter staggered across the sky.

Black smoke poured from its body before it spiraled downward.

It exploded.

The horizon transformed into a ball of fire.

My eyes widened.

"Oh, damn it..."

I turned and ran.

As fast as I could.

At that exact moment, the windows of nearby buildings shattered and flames erupted through them like ticking bombs finally reaching zero.

My breathing became ragged.

Screams multiplied.

People flooded out of their vehicles.

Within seconds, the road became a sea of panicked bodies, making it nearly impossible to push through without being trampled.

The crowd surged violently around me.

Car horns blared endlessly.

Shoulders slammed into mine from every direction until the pain became unbearable.

I glanced toward the line of abandoned vehicles.

Then I forced my way against the current.

I climbed onto the nearest car.

And ran.

Jumping from one rooftop to another.

Until I finally saw ours.

I landed on top of it.

Through the windshield, I saw my mother, Lucas, and Jacqueline staring at me with pale, frightened expressions.

My heart pounded.

I lifted my gaze toward the sky.

Dark clouds had swallowed the horizon.

Gray.

Endless.

I couldn't understand what was happening.

It felt...

Like the end of the world.