Horrific Shorts: Zombie Edition

Lara hadn't slept in thirty hours. Her body screamed for rest, but her mind ran loops of survival instincts and fever-born visions. She sat by the firehouse door, axe at her side, eyes fixed on the stairwell. June slept nearby, wrapped in an old firefighter's coat, her small frame curled like a question mark.

The infection hadn't spread past Lara's shoulder.

It pulsed, it ached, but it didn't consume. Not yet.

Maybe not ever.

Still, Lara couldn't stop thinking about Ethan's bite—the way it hadn't turned her instantly, the way he seemed to come back after tasting her blood. Was she the cause? Or the cure?

June stirred. "You awake?"

"Yeah," Lara replied softly. "Bad dream?"

June nodded. "It was about my mom. She was in the bathtub. But she didn't have a face."

Lara didn't know how to comfort her. No lie would make that dream better. The world didn't give children sweet dreams anymore.

Later that afternoon, while scavenging the nearby apartments for food, they heard the cries—raw, human, desperate.

"Help! Somebody! Please—"

Lara and June exchanged a glance, then bolted toward the sound, weapons ready.

They found her two floors down: a woman in her late twenties, pinned beneath a collapsed shelf, ankle twisted, blood soaking her jeans. A teenage boy hovered nearby, wielding a broken broomstick like a sword. His name was Milo. Her name was Tess.

"The noise drew them," Milo warned. "We've got minutes before they find us."

Lara hesitated. They couldn't carry Tess far, and her leg looked bad. June was already helping to lift the shelf.

"Torn," Tess hissed, biting down on a scream. "I got torn when I fell. Don't know if it was clean wood or a bite."

Lara froze. "You don't know?"

Tess shook her head, eyes wide with fear. "I didn't see what grabbed me. It was fast. But I fought it off. I think."

June looked to Lara. "What if she's like you?"

Milo didn't wait. "She's not turning," he snapped. "She's fine!"

But Lara wasn't sure. The torn pant leg revealed a ragged wound. Ragged enough to be anything.

She was torn between instincts: save them and risk infection in the group—or leave them and risk losing her soul.

The moans were coming closer.

Lara made a decision.

"Milo," she said. "We're taking her back. But we isolate her. If she shows any signs, we act fast. Understood?"

He nodded.

Back at the firehouse, Tess was placed in the isolation chamber—the gear locker, door locked from the outside. Lara watched her sleep from the other side of the mesh grate.

"You think she's like you?" June asked.

Lara stared at the bandage around her own shoulder.

"I don't know," she said. "But whatever this is... it's testing us."

Outside, the growls grew louder.

Inside, their trust was now the most fragile thing of all.