The air outside was thick.
Reize slipped through the rubble with light steps, the knife clenched tightly between his fingers. The night breeze carried the stale, heavy smell of the fallen city: dust, rusted iron... and something worse.
When he peered through a crack in the collapsed wall, he saw it.
Dozens of staggering silhouettes, moving with that broken, unnatural cadence. The infected. More than he expected. Too many.
Some wandered aimlessly, but others moved with an unsettling determination, their heads tilted as if they could sense something invisible to any healthy human.
Reize swallowed hard, her pulse quickening.
"Damn..." she thought, clenching her jaw.
She retraced her steps as quickly as she could, without making a sound. Every shadow was a threat. Every creak, a possible end.
When she reentered the room, her breathing was heavy. Arika opened her eyes slightly, immediately sensing the tension hanging over her friend like an invisible weight
—Reize...? —she asked, her voice hoarse but alert.
Reize dropped her backpack in the corner, crouching down beside her again.
—The situation doesn't look good —she said bluntly—. There are too many of them out there. We won't be moving tonight... even if we wanted to.
Arika didn't ask how many. She saw it in her eyes. It was enough to know that trying to escape now would be suicide.
—All right... —she whispered with a slight nod—. We'll wait.
But her brow furrowed with a hint of frustration, as if something inside her had just accepted a bitter reality. Her eyes locked with Reize's, serious.
—But if we're going to be trapped... —she murmured, her tone firmer—. You have to learn how to use the gun.
Reize blinked, confused.
—What?
—The gun... —Arika nodded toward the half-closed backpack—. I won't be able to defend you like before. I can barely move properly... And I don't want to be a burden.
Reize frowned, looking away.
—Don't be silly. You're not a burden. I don't need you to...
—Yes, you do —Arika interrupted her with a spark of her former determination—. Even if you don't want to admit it.
Her breathing was heavy, but her voice was clear, without hesitation.
—If I fall... if I can't move... —she continued, her eyes searching for Reize's—. You have to be able to defend yourself. You have to be able to survive, do you hear me?
Her trembling hand sought Reize's, squeezing it with what little strength she had left.
—Please.
Reize pressed her lips tightly together. She looked down, avoiding her friend's eyes. The silence stretched on, tense. She brought a hand to her face and sighed, tired, visibly upset.
—I don't like it —she finally murmured—. I don't like the idea of having to shoot... I don't want to...
—It's not a matter of liking it —Arika interrupted gently—. It's a matter of living.
She squeezed her hand a little tighter, looking at her with a mixture of urgency and tenderness.
Reize stood motionless for a few seconds. Finally, she nodded slightly, defeated.
—All right... —she whispered—. You'll teach me.
Arika smiled with a hint of relief and slowly let go of her hand. She settled herself with some effort, glancing at the backpack.
—Pass me the gun... and the bullets. I'll teach you the basics, even if it's from here.
Reize obeyed, carefully removing the gun wrapped in a cloth and the magazine they had managed to rescue days earlier. She handed them over, and Arika, with slow but determined movements, began to patiently show her how to load, aim, and secure the weapon.
Minutes later, as Reize watched every detail with a frown and her hands tense on the cold metal, Arika looked up again.
—Did you try to contact the other group? —Arika asked, her tone somewhat softer.
Reize blinked, as if she had just remembered. She felt ashamed.
—I... lost the radio in the accident... —she murmured, looking down at her backpack—. I tried to use the phone, but there's no signal. Nothing gets through.
She clenched her jaw in frustration.
—I'm sorry... now we won't be able to hear from them, and it's my fault.
Arika processed the information and, after a few seconds, placed a hand on Reize's shoulder. Her face showed no bitterness, but a shadow of concern flitted across her gaze.
—Don't beat yourself up, it's not your fault... —she said calmly—. However, that means we're on our own... for now.
Reize took a deep breath and looked up. Her eyes met Arika's again, and this time, the determination on both their faces was clear.
—Alone, but not finished —said Reize, with a hint of a smile, forced but sincere.
Arika nodded.
—That's right..."
And in that corner of ruins, with the distant echo of the infected shuffling their feet through the broken streets, the two friends began their improvised survival lesson.
One that, whether they knew it or not, could be their only hope when the time came to go back out.
After a few hours of uninterrupted practice.
Reize dropped her hands to her sides, exhaling a long, tired sigh.
Her fingers were numb from holding the weapon for so long, and her mind was buzzing with every detail Arika had taught her: loading, securing, aiming, controlling her breathing...
—Not bad... —Arika murmured with a tired half-smile, leaning back against the cracked wall—. For your first time, you're not doing too badly.
Reize let out a dry laugh, without much conviction.
—If you say so... I still feel like an idiot every time I aim —she replied, carefully placing the gun on a folded rag —. But hey... at least if one of those creatures gets too close, I'll be able to do more than just scream."
She stretched, rubbing her sore neck, and glanced at Arika. Her friend was paler than before, but her eyes still sparkled with that stubborn gleam that always kept her going.
—That was the important thing —Arika whispered, closing her eyes for a moment.
Silence settled between them again, heavy but comfortable this time. Outside, in the distance, there was the creaking of metal, a low growl... and then nothing. Only the sound of their breathing filling the room.
For a few seconds, that was all that existed.
Reize got up awkwardly and approached the small crack where she had previously spied on the streets. Her shoulders tensed immediately.
—They're still there —she reported in a grave tone, without looking away —. They're not leaving.
Her jaw tightened, and her knuckles turned white as her fingers closed around the broken window frame.
Arika opened her eyes slowly.
—They found us... or at least they suspect someone is nearby —she concluded quietly.
Reize nodded slightly.
—It's possible. They're prowling closer than before... too close.
He closed the crack carefully, turning back to Arika.
—Tomorrow morning, if we're lucky and they disperse a little... we'll try to move. If not... —she paused, swallowing hard—...we'll think of something."
Arika nodded slowly.
—We'll figure it out.
Her voice was soft, but her gaze remained steady and determined.
Reize returned to her side, sitting cross-legged on the dusty ground. The gun rested between them. She looked at it silently for a moment, then raised her eyes to Arika.
—Thank you for teaching me —she murmured, her voice barely a whisper—. I know it was hard for you.
Her hand slid until it lightly touched her friend's. Just a brief but sincere touch.
Arika squeezed her hand slightly in return, the warmth of that gesture piercing through the coldness of the fear that surrounded them.
—Promise me that if anything happens...—Arika began, her voice breaking for a second—... if anything happens to me... don't hesitate. Use that gun. Do whatever you have to do to survive, okay?
Reize clenched her jaw. Her brow furrowed, her chest rising with a deep, shaky breath.
—Don't talk like something's going to happen —she said harshly, but her voice trembled at the end—. And make no mistake, we'll both survive.
Her eyes moistened again, though she kept them steady, fixed on Arika's.
—I already told you... — she added more quietly—. I'm not leaving you alone."
There was a moment when neither of them spoke. They just looked at each other.
The echo of their unspoken promises filled the room more than any words could have.
In the distance, a heart-wrenching scream broke the calm. Brief. Sharp. Human.
Reize blinked, her body tensing automatically, but Arika raised a weak hand and touched her forearm.
—Tomorrow —she whispered, as if reading her thoughts—. Not before.
Reize pressed his lips together and nodded.
—Tomorrow.
He leaned back against the wall next to her, still holding the gun, and let the weight of exhaustion begin to sink in.
Outside, hell continued to breathe...
But within those four broken walls, there was still a little humanity left to defend.