Horrific Shorts: Zombie Edition

The silence between Zara and Callum stretched thin as they moved cautiously through the desolate ruins of the city. Shadows danced on the cracked pavement, flickering in the dim light of Zara's flashlight. The cold air carried an unnatural stillness—too quiet, even for an apocalyptic wasteland.

Zara kept Callum in her peripheral vision, her hand brushing the grip of her holstered handgun. Every instinct screamed at her to remain wary, but a small, nagging voice reminded her that survival was nearly impossible alone. For now, she'd take the gamble.
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"Your gear," Zara broke the silence, her voice low. "It's military. You ex-mil or just a scavenger with luck?"

Callum glanced at her, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. "Let's just say I've had my share of training. Why, you worried I'll turn that against you?"

Zara gave a dry chuckle, her grip tightening on her flashlight. "I'd be stupid not to. People don't survive long out here without learning to look over their shoulder."

"That's fair," Callum said, scanning the rubble-strewn street ahead. "But if I wanted you dead, you'd already be."

Zara stopped in her tracks, leveling a hard glare at Callum. "Not exactly the reassurance I was looking for."

Callum raised her hands in mock surrender. "Relax, Kincaid. You don't seem the type to go down easy. That's why I'm keeping you around—for now."

Zara rolled her eyes but couldn't suppress a small smile. There was a confidence about Callum that was both infuriating and oddly reassuring. For better or worse, she decided to push forward.

The two women approached what had once been a grocery store, its windows shattered and its aisles stripped bare. Zara crouched near the entrance, signaling for Callum to hold.

"We scout first," Zara whispered. "Could be crawlers inside."

"Got it," Callum replied, unslinging a short-barreled rifle from her back.

Zara nodded, pushing the door open just enough to slip inside. The air was thick with the musty stench of decay. Broken shelves leaned against one another like drunken sentries, and the faint sound of shuffling echoed from deeper within the store.

Zara motioned for Callum to stay close. They moved in tandem, careful to avoid making noise. A low growl froze them in place.

"Two o'clock," Callum whispered, her eyes narrowing on a hunched silhouette feeding on something unrecognizable.

Zara nodded, signaling for her to stay put. She crept forward, drawing a knife from her belt. The crawler's grotesque form twitched as it gnawed at its prize, oblivious to Zara's approach.

In one swift motion, Zara plunged the blade into the back of its skull. The creature collapsed, lifeless, as Zara wiped her knife on its tattered clothing.

"Nice work," Callum said, stepping forward.

"Don't get comfortable," Zara replied. "That was just one. There could be more."

The growls intensified, echoing from the shadows. Zara and Callum exchanged a glance—an unspoken understanding.

"Ready?" Zara asked, her gun drawn.

Callum smirked, raising her rifle. "Always."