Horrific Shorts: Zombie Edition

By the time dawn rose, the city was no longer a city.

It was smoke. It was sirens. It was silence.

Lara stood atop the firehouse roof, wrapped in a torn blanket, her blood-soaked sleeve tied tight with a leather belt to slow the spread. She didn't know how long she had—hours maybe, a day at most. But the fever hadn't taken her fully. Not yet.

Below, the streets had turned into corridors of ash and ruin. Fires burned in hushed corners. Cars were crashed, doors flung open. The screams had mostly stopped. What remained were the echoing growls—the constant moans of the dead walking without aim, drawn only by scent and sound.

And in the center of that chaos, she clung to one stubborn fact:

Ethan had come back.

Even if only for a moment.

That meant something. Maybe whatever infected them didn't erase love. Maybe it just buried it—deep, beneath the hunger.

She returned to the firehouse interior and knelt beside Ethan's body. He was still. Not twitching. Not rising again. Just still.

"Maybe you burned it out," she whispered. "Maybe I can, too."

Her fingers trembled as she checked his pulse again. Still none.

Still gone.

But as she leaned close, something else stirred. A whisper from the hall below. Soft footsteps. Not dragging—walking.

She grabbed the axe and crept forward.

A figure appeared in the hallway's shadows—a girl, maybe thirteen. Dirt-smudged face, hoodie soaked in blood. She froze at the sight of Lara's weapon.

"I'm not one of them," the girl said hoarsely.

Lara lowered the axe just slightly. "You alone?"

The girl nodded. "I was with my mom. She didn't make it."

Lara swallowed hard. "What's your name?"

"June."

"You armed, June?"

The girl held up a rusted kitchen knife. "Only this."

"Stay close."

The firehouse became their sanctuary—briefly. Lara shared the remaining food. Taught June how to reinforce the windows. At night, Lara fought the fever. Her skin burned. Her head swam with blurred memories—Ethan laughing, Ethan screaming, Ethan kissing her like the world was ending because it was.

But June gave her a reason to keep fighting.

"I don't think you're turning," June said one morning, eyes sharp. "You'd be gone by now."

"Maybe."

"Maybe you're like him."

Lara frowned. "Like who?"

"There was a man. On the news. Bitten... but he didn't change. They called him immune."

Hope flickered again.

Maybe Ethan hadn't come back just from love. Maybe something was different in their blood. Maybe they weren't doomed.

Outside, the city crumbled. The skyline, once proud, was now a jagged silhouette of broken towers and flame. But inside the firehouse, two survivors clung to something stronger than death.

They clung to each other.

They held on.