Ace stared at the rotting corpse, his face a mask of disgust and resignation. The stench of decay curled in his nostrils, thick and putrid, clinging to the back of his throat. He turned away, swallowing hard. He’d seen death before—too many times—but it never ceased to disturb him. The sight of bloated flesh, the way the body seemed to melt into the floorboards, it was a grim reminder of how fragile life had become.

  He exhaled slowly, his breath visible in the cold air of the abandoned house. The walls were cracked, paint peeling in long, curling strips, revealing the wood beneath. Dust hung heavy in the air, disturbed only by their movements.

  "Sigh... This house is empty. I don’t know how much longer we can keep this up," I muttered, my voice barely above a whisper, exhausted from the endless searching.

  "Yeah," Alex said, his voice weary as he rifled through another drawer. The wooden bottom groaned in protest as he yanked it open, only to find it empty. "But we have to keep searching

  . We can't give up."

  I leaned against the counter, the cold surface biting into my palm. "We're running low on food and water," I sighed. "And we can't keep moving forever."

  Alex closed the drawer with a soft thud, rubbing a hand over his tired face. "We'll figure it out; we have each other," he said with a small, warm smile. "That's what counts."

  "That's easy for you to say. It's not so easy to be a motivational old man like you."

  He chuckled, the sound low and rough. "Hahaha! Optimism is all we have left. We can't just throw ourselves into a group of wanderers."

  I didn't reply. Instead, I focused on the faint creaking of the house, the way the wind howled softly outside, whistling through broken window frames.

  "And who knows?" he continued, his tone lighter. "Maybe there's a safe haven, or even a cure out there somewhere. We just have to keep moving forward."

  If only I had his optimism.

  "I hope so," I muttered. "I'm getting tired of eating canned food."

  "Me too," he admitted, shaking his head. "We'll make it through this. We're still alive, and we sure ain't dying anytime soon—"

  "Let's check this house," I cut him off, my eyes landing on a small, two-story home across the street. From what I could see from the window, it looked intact—miraculously untouched.

  Alex exhaled through his nose, his breath misting in the cold air. "Alright," he said, clearly not pleased by the interruption. "But let’s be careful.

  We went to the entrance of the house.

  Would you like the honor of scouting?"

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  "Sure, but if we find something, I get a bigger share," I shrugged, adjusting the grip on my knife.

  "Haha! Fine by me." He took position behind the door, his knife held loosely but ready.

  Knock.

  Knock.

  Silence.

  Knock.

  Knock.

  Nothing.

  "Let’s enter," I said, placing my hand on the doorknob. But just as I was about to twist it—

  "Wait." Alex held up a hand, then knocked twice more.

  Knock.

  Knock.

  A pause. Then nothing.

  "Looks clear."

  I rolled my eyes. "Didn't I say so, paranoid old man?" I teased.

  He winced but let out a low chuckle. "Go in."

  I pushed the door open. Sunlight spilled into the dark interior, illuminating floating dust motes. The scent of stale air and old wood greeted us, mingling with something far worse.

  Cough.

  Cough.

  A sharp, acrid stench hit me like a brick wall. The smell of rot.

  "Did somebody die here?" I almost managed to ask before—

  "Ace!"

  Alex’s voice snapped me back to reality just as something lunged at me. A blur of ragged clothes and pale, clawing hands.

  I barely had time to react before it slammed into me, knocking the breath from my lungs. My back hit the wall with a thud, pain jolting through my ribs. I struggled, a pair of sunken, bloodshot eyes staring into mine. Its teeth snapped inches from my face, breath reeking of decay.

  Alex rushed forward, his knife flashing in the dim light. Shunk. The blade buried deep into its eye socket. A wet squelch. A final, shuddering twitch—then it went limp.

  Its weight slumped against me before sliding to the floor with a sickening plop. Blood pooled at my boots, dark and viscous.

  "You have to be more careful! You could’ve died there!" Alex snapped, his face pale with adrenaline.

  "We knocked before we entered," I muttered, chest still heaving.

  "That doesn't mean you can just walk in like that!"

  I didn’t respond. My pulse was still pounding in my ears.

  Alex sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Let’s continue," he said, his voice quieter now. "We don’t have much time left. I’ll check the first floor. You take the second."

  "Got it."

  "Be careful," he warned.

  "I know. It won’t happen again," I promised, shaking off the lingering tremors as I ascended the stairs.

  The second floor was eerily silent. My boots creaked against the wooden boards, dust shifting under my feet. I stepped into the bathroom first, the smell of mildew and rust thick in the air. The mirror was cracked, its web-like fractures distorting my reflection. I rummaged through the cabinets—tissues, and a half-empty bottle of rubbing alcohol. Could come in handy.

  The bedroom was next. The air here was heavier, tinged with the scent of stale linens. The bed was unmade, covers bunched up as if someone had left in a hurry. I moved to the nightstand, pulling open a drawer. My eyes widened.

  "Whoa, this is high quality," I muttered, fingers wrapping around a still-good military knife. Its weight was perfect, the edge sharp even after all this time. I could already hear Alex teexcited over a weapon, and I couldn’t help but smile.

  "Ace! I found food!"

  Alex’s voice rang up the stairs, startling me enough that I nearly dropped the knife.

  "Don’t shout like that! You idiot!" I called back.

  "Sorry. Sorry. But this is good stuff!" He grinned, holding up a dusty can of something. But then—

  Beep. Beep.

  Alex’s watch. His smile vanished.

  Night was coming.

  I swallowed. The light filtering through the boarded windows was already dimming.

  "We need to barricade," he said, his voice serious now.

  I nodded. We couldn't afford to be caught out after dark.

  "Help me move this cupboard."

  Together, we shoved it against the front door, the wood groaning under the strain. We dragged a table in front of the windows. It wasn’t perfect, but it would have to do.

  "Let’s use the bedroom upstairs for now," Alex said, tossing me a thin blanket. "You get some rest first. I’ll wake you up when I feel tired."

  "Thanks."

  I lay down on the bed, the mattress stiff and musty beneath me. My body ached, exhaustion settling deep in my bones.

  We had food now, but it wouldn’t last forever. If only I could be as positive as Alex...

  The wind howled outside, rattling the loose boards. I can hear their screams telling us that they are out there I closed my eyes, the weight of exhaustion finally pulling me under.