Requiem of the Dead

The night air carried a sharper chill than Leila expected. It pressed against her skin, a reminder that every day they walked north meant colder nights. She moved carefully across the uneven road, her breath shallow as her bruised ribs complained with each step. Ahead, Kai held his rifle angled low, scanning the horizon for any sign of undead or living threats. Behind them, Fiona and Darren brought up the rear, while Mark trekked beside Leila, his expression subdued.

They hadn't spoken much since leaving the scavenger behind in that run-down hamlet. The weight of turning him away had tempered everyone's spirits. Fiona broke the silence first, voice hushed so it wouldn't carry far in the stillness.

"Do you think he'll be all right?" she asked, glancing over her shoulder as though the man might appear behind them.

Leila shook her head slowly. "I don't know," she admitted. "We don't have the luxury to save everyone, but that doesn't make it any easier."

Fiona's brow furrowed, but she didn't argue. Darren whispered something to her—some reassurance, perhaps. They trudged on in silence.

Eventually, the pavement gave way to a gravel lane winding through a patch of overgrown farmland. Dark silhouettes of collapsed barns and skeletal trees stood against the moonlit sky. The group paused at a leaning fence post. Leila signaled for everyone to gather close.

"Mark, check that barn," she said. "See if it's stable enough for us to stay the night. I don't want to be on the road when the horde that scavenger mentioned eventually wanders this way." She allowed a wry note in her voice—an attempt at humor, but it fell flat.

Mark nodded and disappeared into the gloom with Darren at his side, rifles drawn. Kai lingered near Leila, eyes tracing the line of the fence, the half-collapsed farmhouse beyond.

"They're both pretty battered," Kai observed quietly. "We might find shelter inside, but we'll need to keep watch. Could be infected nesting there or—" He trailed off, scanning the near distance.

Leila gave him a tight smile. "I'd rather risk an old barn than another skirmish under the stars."

Fiona hovered a few steps away, her posture hunched from the cold. She clutched a small flashlight in one hand but kept it off to avoid drawing attention. After a beat, Mark returned with Darren, both wearing expressions of cautious optimism.

"The barn's mostly intact," Mark reported in a hushed tone. "Roof has some holes, but the walls aren't too far gone. Didn't see any sign of infected inside—no fresh tracks."

Darren rubbed his forearm, where an old bandage peeked out from under his jacket sleeve. "We can barricade the doors for the night," he added, glancing around uneasily. "Better than trying to sleep in the open."

Leila exhaled, relief warming her chest more than she'd anticipated. "All right. Let's get inside, then."

They picked their way through tangled weeds and toppled fencing until they reached the barn's double doors. Every footstep felt louder than it should have in the hush of night. Once inside, Leila ran her flashlight across the interior. Dust motes swirled in the cold beam of light, revealing old wooden stalls and mounds of rotted hay. The air smelled of mold and decay, but nothing stirred in the shadows.

Mark and Kai set about reinforcing the doors with a heavy plank Darren located in a corner. Fiona busied herself examining the barn's perimeter, shining her flashlight into any crannies that could hide a lurking threat. Satisfied, she joined Leila near an upended trough.

"Not exactly homey," Fiona said with a forced half-smile, "but it's better than outside."

Leila ran a hand along the rough wooden boards. "We'll make it work."

Night settled fully as they prepared camp. Darren and Mark set their packs against a stable post, while Fiona laid out a threadbare blanket for them to share. Kai found an intact ladder leading to a small loft. He climbed up to check, returning with a nod of approval.

"Loft's empty. Might give us a good vantage if anything comes sniffing around." He spoke softly, glancing toward Leila. "You want first watch?"

She weighed the fatigue clinging to her muscles and decided against it. "I'll take second. You and Mark can split the first shift. Darren and Fiona need rest."

Mark agreed, rummaging for some dried jerky. They ate in relative silence, passing around sips of water. The entire group was keyed up, senses straining for any noise beyond the barn walls. A distant groan from somewhere in the farmland sent prickles down Leila's spine, but it didn't approach.

Eventually, Darren and Fiona curled up near the trough, rifles within arm's reach. Mark stationed himself behind a half-broken door, peering through a crack in the wood, while Kai scaled the ladder again to keep watch from the loft. Leila settled against a bale of musty hay, the ache in her side flaring anew. She pressed her palm to the bruise, eyes drifting across the barn's interior.

Her gaze found Kai leaning over the loft's edge. Even in the dim moonlight filtering through the roof's holes, she noted the intent expression in his eyes—unwavering, protective. She remembered the fleeting moment of warmth his wry smile had offered on the road earlier, how it soothed her gnawing sense of futility. A small stir of gratitude fluttered in her chest. She almost called out to him but thought better of it. He needed to concentrate on potential threats. Another time, she'd thank him for that silent support.

Minutes bled into an hour as Mark completed his half of the watch. Apart from a few distant groans and the rustling of nocturnal wildlife, nothing disturbed them. Eventually, Mark roused Leila for her turn, letting Kai rest.

"Not a peep," Mark murmured, voice laced with exhaustion. "Guess we're lucky tonight."

Leila nodded. "Could be worse." She squeezed his shoulder in thanks, then climbed up the ladder to join Kai, who'd moved down to catch a quick rest. He offered her a faint grin.

"All quiet," he murmured. "But keep an ear out. That scavenger we saw mentioned the infected roving in these parts at night."

"I'll be ready," she promised, taking up position by the loft's narrow window. She adjusted her rifle, scanning the moonlit farmstead. A gentle breeze teased at the barn's walls, making them groan.

Kai settled onto a patch of hay, his posture still half-alert as though he couldn't fully relax. For a moment, Leila considered the precariousness of this existence—grabbing fitful sleep in battered shelters, trusting in rickety barricades to hold back the undead or roving gangs. Yet they pressed forward. Because that's what survivors did.

She lost track of time as she watched the horizon for movement. Thoughts drifted to the scavenger, alone in the settlement. Could he find some safer place to hunker down, or would the coming dawn reveal his fate as another casualty? She hated not knowing, but what choice did she have? They had to look after their own.

Before long, the sky began to lighten, shifting from deep charcoal to a muted steel blue. Another half-hour and the first hints of sunrise would glimmer over the horizon. No infected had approached during her watch, though the barn creaked enough to keep her pulse quick. She exhaled a long breath, shoulders loosening, aware of the faint crow of a distant rooster—some stray survivor's livestock?

A stirring below signaled Darren waking. Fiona's soft voice asked him something about breakfast. Mark let out a muffled yawn. Leila turned to Kai, who blinked awake under her gaze.

"All's quiet," she said. "Morning's coming."

Kai stretched, rubbing the stiffness from his neck. "Guess we made it through the night."

Leila managed a small, tired grin. "For once, we did."

They descended the ladder to find Fiona rummaging for a few meager rations. Darren sniffed the air, wrinkling his nose at the barn's mustiness, but said nothing. Mark fiddled with a lantern, extinguishing its sputtering flame.

After a sparse meal—more jerky, a little water—they talked strategy. Should they spend another night here, reinforcing the barn? Or keep moving, forging deeper north? Each option came with risks.

Finally, Leila decided, "We push on at least until we see if farmland or fresh water is near. We can't hole up in a half-rotten barn forever."

No one disagreed. The outside world beckoned, full of threats yet also the promise of something better. They carefully dismantled their makeshift barricade, stepped out into the crisp dawn. A pale sun hovered at the horizon's edge, illuminating the fields with a wash of pastel oranges and pinks.

Leila glanced around. No undead in sight, no sign of that scavenger or other wanderers. Just them and the endless possibilities of the road ahead.

She hoisted her rifle, ignoring the stab of pain along her ribs. "All right," she said quietly. "Let's move."

Kai's gaze met hers, a silent confirmation they were in this together. Darren and Fiona fell in behind them, Mark bringing up the rear. Step by step, they left the barn behind, forging onward into a world still battered by death and betrayal—but one where their fragile, steadfast hope endured.

They didn't look back.