Requiem of the Dead

The night was thick with tension, a suffocating weight that settled over the group like a shroud. The distant howls of the infected echoed across the ruins of the town, carried by the cold wind that swept through the empty streets. The group had taken refuge in the shell of a once-thriving department store, its shattered windows and looted shelves a stark reminder of how quickly civilization had crumbled.

Leila stood near the entrance, her rifle held loosely in her grip as she watched the darkness beyond. Every nerve in her body was on edge. She could feel it—the shift, the inevitable fracture in their fragile alliance. Jace and Ellie had been pushing boundaries for days, their distrust morphing into something more dangerous. And now, she was certain. Tonight was the night they would make their move.

She had seen the stolen glances, the way Ellie's hand had lingered too long on her pistol, the way Jace had started keeping a calculated distance. It wasn't just paranoia. It was instinct. They were planning something, waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike.

Leila wasn't going to give them the chance.

She turned slightly, catching Kai's gaze from across the dimly lit space. He was watching, too, ever the predator waiting for a weakness to exploit. His expression was unreadable, but she knew he saw the same thing she did. The tension. The inevitable betrayal.

A rustling noise behind her made her stiffen. She turned just in time to see Ellie stepping forward, her posture deceptively casual.

"We need to talk," Ellie said, her voice carefully neutral.

Leila didn't move. "About?"

Jace joined Ellie's side, his expression harder than usual. "About how we move forward. About how we decide what's best for all of us."

There it was. The beginning.

"I've already decided what's best for us," Leila said evenly. "You're just upset it's not you making the calls."

Ellie's jaw tightened. "We can't keep following you blindly. You're hiding things, Leila. We all feel it. You act like you know everything before it happens. And that's not normal."

"What's not normal," Leila countered, "is watching two people I once trusted whisper behind my back like cowards, waiting for a moment to stab me when they think I won't see it coming."

The words landed like a slap. Jace stiffened, his fingers twitching at his side. Ellie's face hardened, but there was something else there—something almost like regret.

"It's not like that," Jace said, but his voice lacked conviction.

Leila took a slow step forward, her grip tightening on her rifle. "Then tell me what it is."

Silence stretched between them, thick with unspoken words. But before either of them could answer, a loud crash from outside shattered the moment. The groaning, guttural sound that followed made Leila's stomach drop.

They had found them.

The infected.

"Shit," Darren hissed, already moving toward the entrance with his rifle raised.

Leila acted on instinct, shoving past Jace and Ellie as she took position near the shattered front windows. Shapes moved in the darkness beyond, jerking, stumbling figures drawn to the noise, to the scent of the living. Their vacant eyes caught the faint glow of their lanterns, and then they surged forward.

"Positions!" Leila barked, and just like that, the fight began.

Mark fired the first shot, his rifle's crack splitting the air as a bullet tore through the forehead of the leading infected. It crumpled instantly, but more took its place. They came fast, clawing over the broken glass, their ragged fingers scraping against the countertops as they pushed inside.

Gunfire erupted. Leila squeezed the trigger, taking down one, two, three of them in rapid succession. The recoil jolted through her arms, but she didn't stop. She couldn't.

A sudden movement in her periphery made her whip around—just in time to see Ellie raising her gun.

Not at the infected.

At her.

Time slowed. Leila's mind processed it faster than her body could react. The gun in Ellie's hand, the determination in her eyes. The moment of betrayal she had been waiting for.

But she had been waiting.

She moved before Ellie could fire, lunging forward and knocking the gun aside. The shot rang out, missing its target by inches. Leila twisted Ellie's wrist, forcing the gun from her grip before slamming her elbow into Ellie's jaw.

Ellie stumbled back, but recovered quickly, sweeping out her leg in a vicious kick. Leila barely dodged in time, feeling the rush of air as Ellie's boot missed her ribs by inches. They circled each other, eyes locked, bodies tensed.

Jace took advantage of the distraction and tackled Leila from behind. The impact sent them both crashing to the ground. Jace grunted, pinning her arms, but Leila was faster. She twisted sharply, using her weight against him, rolling until she was on top.

Jace slammed his elbow into her side, making her gasp, but she gritted through the pain. She struck back, ramming her fist into his jaw. The force sent him sprawling, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth.

Ellie lunged again, this time grabbing Leila's hair and yanking hard. A flash of pain shot through her scalp, but Leila twisted in Ellie's grip, slamming her forehead into Ellie's nose. A sickening crunch filled the air as Ellie screamed, staggering back with blood gushing from her face.

Jace wiped the blood from his mouth and rushed at Leila again. They slammed into a metal shelving unit, the contents crashing to the ground. He clawed for her throat, but Leila wrenched free, grabbing a jagged piece of broken glass from the floor.

She didn't hesitate. She slashed at Jace's arm, the glass tearing through his sleeve and into his flesh. He roared in pain, stumbling back.

Before he could recover, a gunshot split the chaos.

Ellie froze, eyes wide in shock. A crimson bloom spread across her shoulder, and she stumbled backward, dropping to her knees.

Leila turned her head to find Kai standing there, gun still raised, his expression cold.

"They were taking too long," he said simply.

Jace let out a strangled noise, his hands falling limp. Leila didn't let up. She leaned in, her voice a whisper of steel. "If I ever see you again, Jace, you won't get a second chance."

She stood, releasing him, and he gasped for air, clutching his throat. Ellie clutched her wounded shoulder, her face contorted in pain and fury.

"Leave," Leila commanded, voice deadly quiet. "Before I change my mind."

Jace hesitated, looking at Ellie, then back at Leila. He knew there was no winning. Not this time.

They stumbled toward the exit, disappearing into the darkness.

Silence fell over the ruined store, broken only by the distant groans of the infected outside.

Leila exhaled slowly, her hands still shaking. Kai stepped closer, his gaze lingering on her.

"Told you they'd make a move," he murmured.

Leila huffed a breath, something between exhaustion and amusement. "Yeah. You were right."

Kai smirked, tucking his gun away. "I usually am."

Leila met his gaze, and for a moment, there was something there—something unspoken. But before she could dwell on it, she turned away.

There was still work to do.

And the night was far from over.

The groans of the infected outside were growing louder. Leila wiped the blood from her mouth and turned to the others.

"We need to move. Now."

Mark and Darren were already at the entrance, their guns raised as the first wave of infected pushed inside. The gunfire was deafening, the stench of rot overwhelming.

Kai grabbed Leila's wrist. "This way—back exit!"

Fiona moved quickly, supporting Darren as they all pushed toward the rear of the store. The infected were relentless, crawling through broken glass, their hands grasping, their jaws snapping.

Leila fired over her shoulder, taking down two more as they shoved through the exit door, bursting into the cold night.

"Run!" she shouted.

And together, they fled into the darkness, leaving the ruined store—and the last remnants of trust—behind them.

The group sprinted down the empty streets, their breath coming in ragged gasps. Ahead, an abandoned auto repair shop loomed, its doors slightly ajar. "There!" Leila pointed, leading them inside. They barricaded the entrance, guns ready as they caught their breath.

They weren't safe yet.

Breathing heavily, the group huddled near the entrance of the auto repair shop, struggling to steady their racing hearts. The place smelled of rusted metal and stale oil, the lingering evidence of its past life. A few broken windows near the ceiling let in enough moonlight to illuminate the clutter—old tires, half-empty toolboxes, a couple of abandoned vehicles that had seen better days.

Leila pressed her back against the cold wall, taking stock of everyone's condition. Mark knelt by the door, listening for any sign that the infected had followed. Darren stood beside him, rifle at the ready, tension visible in every line of his body. Fiona clung to her medical bag, eyes darting around for any potential threat. And Kai—Kai was scanning the interior, his expression calm, but Leila knew he was calculating every angle of escape.

"Check for supplies," Leila ordered quietly, her voice still tight with adrenaline. "We need anything that can help us keep moving."

Mark nodded, forcing himself up despite the weariness in his legs. He flicked on a small flashlight, cutting a narrow beam through the gloom, and moved deeper into the shop. Darren followed, covering him with his rifle. The sound of their cautious footsteps echoed off the walls.