Page 5 of Burning Love

It was then she realized the horrible truth: survival wasn’t a matter of being strong or brave. It was about luck. She was still here, and they weren’t, butluckyhardly felt like the right word. She had never felt this low in her entire life. She’d escaped with her life, but the cost was almost unimaginable. She felt like the last woman alive.

A soft, scratching sound brought her back to the present. The zombie stumbled further up the aisle, its decayed body brushing against the shelves, its hands reaching, searching. Her pulse quickened as she briefly shut her eyes, willing her body to become even smaller.

The creature lingered for what felt like forever, its presence causing every fiber of her being to focus on remaining silent. She reminded herself of the countless times she had done this before. She knew she had to fight every instinct that was screaming at her to flee.

Finally, the shuffling steps began to fade, the zombie moving away, its attention drifting elsewhere. Sophia counted her breaths, waiting until the silence felt complete. Only then did she release the tension she had held for what felt like hours.

She unfurled herself slowly, every movement careful, deliberate. These creatures were unpredictable, and she’d learned that they sometimes circled back. She needed to get out there very carefully and find another place to hide before night fell.

Sophia’s loneliness settled back over her as she made her way to the exit.

Where should I go now?

It was an ache that never left her. She had nothing. Not here, in any case. She could only cling to the hope that everyone back home was still there. She remembered the faces of the few survivors she’d encountered, their wary eyes, the way they’d sized each other up, always calculating. Trust had become a luxury. And there was no room in this new world for luxuries. When every encounter carried a risk, isolation had become her armor.

She took one last look at the grocery store. There was something hauntingly beautiful about its emptiness.

Sophia slipped into the shadows outside. She moved with purpose, her senses alert, her mind focused on finding a safe place to spend the night.

As she walked, her thoughts drifted to her family. Had any of them survived? Were they also aimlessly wandering the ruins of London, haunted by memories of their once near-perfect lives? The ache in her chest grew. She could feel the tears coming, but she pushed them aside. There was no room for longing when she was supposed to be in super-vigilant mode.

Oh, Mummy. Where are you? I need you. I really need you.

She suddenly remembered an article she’d read online about soldiers on the battlefield. Oh, wow. Online. How odd to even think about it. The internet! Had that really existed? Would it be coming back? Was someone working on that? It was hard for her to believe it had even existed now that it was gone. Only a few weeks had passed, yet it felt like a lifetime since she’d last held her entire world in her pocket. Her iPhone had been a lifeline, a real-time portal to every person she knew, every fact she could look up, every thought or photo she wanted to share. Now, it was just a useless piece of metal and glass. She didn’t even know why she was still carrying it around. There was no signal. No power. But it was another hope she was clinging to. She thought about how easily she’d once tapped on friends’ names, seeing their lives unfold in pictures and messages as if they were right there with her. How she’d pulled up maps without a second thought, let music fill her ears with a quick scroll, held endless information in the palm of her hand. Now, the device was cold and silent, much like herself.

The article that had suddenly appeared in her mind detailed the universal tendency for wounded soldiers to call out for their mothers in their final moments, no matter how tough or battle-hardened they’d been. The words haunted her, tracing the edges of a feeling she hadn’t wanted to acknowledge—that primal, desperate longing for comfort, for someone who might make this nightmare bearable.

After having walked for about half an hour, she happened upon a small woodshed on the terrace of an abandoned bar tucked away in a corner. A rusty padlock dangled from the door, and to her surprise, the key was still in it. With a glance over her shoulder, she slipped inside, taking the padlock with her, and ducked into the cramped, musty space. She closed the door behind her and padlocked it from the inside. The shed was barely big enough to stand in, but she didn’t need space—she required safety. The cold seeped into Sophia’s bones, wrapping around her like a second skin. She shivered uncontrollably. The air smelled stale and very faintly of old cigarettes. But it was enclosed, and right now, that was all she needed. It was her haven. She pressed herself into a corner, hugging her knees to her chest, trying to conserve any heat her body had left. Her tights and pants offered little protection against the chill, and her thin jacket was of almost zero use. She would have to make it her next mission to find some clothes. Sophia rubbed her arms in a futile attempt to bring warmth to her frozen skin, her teeth chattering as she squeezed her eyes shut.

Mother…

But her mother wasn’t there. Nobody was here. There was not a single person in this world who would tell her what she wanted to hear—that everything would be all right. She was traveling solo. Each day was a battle. And she felt it now more than ever—an aching, desperate urge to scream. But she knew no one would hear her.

3

ALEX

The forest was eerily silent as Alex led her patrol forward through the darkness. Every rustle seemed amplified, and Alex was reminded that when there wasn’t a sound to be heard out in the wild, it didn’t always mean they were safe. She knew that her three-person team had razor-sharp senses and that she could count on them to scan every inch of the surrounding area.

We have to find them. Oh, God, Miller? Where the fuck did you go? Shit!

As a range of scenarios flickered through her mind, a cry pierced the quiet. It was distant but unmistakably human. But it didn’t sound like Miller or any of the youngsters he’d taken out of with him. No, this was a high-pitched, desperate scream. She recognized it immediately. She’d heard it many times. It was the sound of someone fighting for their life—a woman. Alex raised a hand high into the air; the signal for her team to stop in their tracks. She turned her head, her ears narrowing in on the source.

“Follow me, you guys. It could be one of ours.”

Without even a second’s hesitation, she started moving with purposeful and determined strides. Her small team fanned out behind her. They knew to be quiet and efficient. They had been in this situation more than enough times already, and in case they had forgotten, Alex had spent hours drumming it into them before they’d left the compound. The screams grew louder as they neared a small clearing. In one swift motion, Alex broke through the underbrush and into the open space.

Although she should have been, Alex wasn’t quite prepared for the sight that met her. In the clearing, a young woman stood alone, bent over with a lone zombie on her back, its arms around her neck. It clawed at her throat, grabbing her with its rotting fingers as she tried to fend it off with what looked to be little more than a twig. Her face was twisted with terror. She made a series of strangled gulping noises as she tried, and failed, to jab at what once had been a young man, the twig doing very little to hold the creature at bay.

“Hey! Get off her,” Alex cried out, her voice loud and authoritative despite knowing full well the undead thing no longer had the ability to understand her.

The woman’s head snapped sideways, and Alex recognized the flash of hope in her eyes. The creature lunged, snapping its teeth mere inches from the young woman’s arm. Alex was already running straight into the chaos, her hand gripping a baseball bat with an ease that surprised her, seeing as she had only ever been trained with firearms. With a mighty swing, she struck the creature on the back of the head, sending it into a backward spin. As the zombie’s body collapsed at her feet, motionless, she whacked it in the head one last time.

Finish him, Alex.

The woman was shaking from head to toe, clutching the twig like a lifeline. Alex stepped closer and reached out her hand. “You’re safe now. Come on, you can come with us. Don’t be scared. It’s over.”

The woman’s wide eyes searched Alex’s face as if trying to make sense of what had just happened.

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