SHADOWS OF THE LAST PROMISE

The U.S. Grid Control Room

"It seems another pandemic has hit." The man spoke with a voice carrying authority, but his features remained obscured under the intense, glaring light. The only visible detail was his well-tailored blue two-piece suit, which shimmered slightly as he shifted in his chair.

"We're still dealing with COVID," replied another man, his face similarly veiled by the light. He was dressed in a sharp black suit that contrasted starkly with the bright surroundings. "But reports from several countries indicate disturbances beyond what we've seen."

"Let's hear the reports," the man in the blue suit instructed.

"Certainly, sir." A third individual, standing by a large monitor, began to read from a document. "Five countries are currently experiencing severe disturbances: South Korea, India, Japan, France, and Australia. Minor cases have been reported in China, though it appears they originated from South Korea."

"What is the situation in countries neighboring the infected areas?" the man in the black suit asked, his tone pressing for specifics.

"Asia has designated three red zone countries and one yellow zone. Other regions remain unaffected for now. Africa has reported no infections, while Europe has one red zone, but the majority of its countries are still deemed safe. North and South America have not recorded any cases, and Oceania has only one red zone country."

"Are red zone countries being isolated?"

"Yes, sir. Their borders are being secured by their respective military and defense systems. Yellow zones are undergoing intense screening, while safe zones are being evacuated, prioritizing relocations to uninfected regions outside their continents."

"Asia is on high alert. Has the evacuation process started there?"

"Yes, sir. Evacuations are already underway. Citizens from Afghanistan, Armenia, Azerbaijan, Bahrain, Bangladesh, and Bhutan have been relocated to Africa, which is currently designated as the first safe continent."

"Contact South Korea immediately. We need information on a potential cure."

"Sir, all South Korean telecommunications have been destroyed. We're attempting to use satellite communications."

"What's the situation in China?" the man in the blue suit inquired.

"Three out of twenty people are infected, sir. The majority of the population remains safe."

"We should consider starting the evacuation process in China soon. And what about India and Japan?"

"Japan is managing to contain the situation for now. Five out of twenty are infected. India, however, had three infected immigrants from South Korea. The infection spread rapidly; currently, eleven out of twenty people are infected."

"And France?"

"France's infection rate is similar to Japan's, sir."

"And South Korea?"

"Nineteen out of twenty, sir."

"What about their officials and military? Is no one safe?"

"Perhaps a few remain uninfected. The military has taken control of the situation as best they can, sir."

"Then we must coordinate with the safe countries and formulate a global strategy. Make contact with every nation capable of offering support. Ensure the safe zones remain secure."

***

Northern India

Standard Time: 3:00 am
Date: Unknown
Location: New Delhi
All spoken in Hindi

"Anjali! Where are you? Anjali!" Meher's voice resonated through the empty mansion. Her long black hair bounced as she turned her head from side to side, her dark eyes scanning the eerie silence. She wore a blue floral frock and black sneakers, a shoulder bag slung hastily over her arm. The mansion loomed around her, shadows dancing in the dim light cast by her phone.

Something fell with a loud thud a few feet away, and Meher's heart leapt into her throat. She froze, the beam from her phone wavering as she directed it toward the source of the sound.

"Grrr... Grrrr...." came the guttural growl from the twisted figure on the floor, teeth grinding together in a terrifying display. Meher's eyes widened in horror as recognition struck.

"A-Anjali? Is that... you? What happened to you?"

"MEHER!! STAY AWAY! THAT'S NOT ANJALI ANYMORE!" a voice boomed from the far end of the room. The figure surged forward, but a blade gleamed in the darkness, stabbing through the creature's body. The man's black hair fell back, revealing his tense features-a young boy with light brown eyes blazing with determination, his high nose and chiseled jawline set in grim resolve.

"K-Karthik... you killed it?"

"Not yet," Karthik muttered, his voice sharp as he yanked the knife free, the creature crumpling lifelessly to the floor. "Get a grip, Meher. This isn't the same world anymore."

Meher bit her lip, nodding slowly as tears brimmed in her eyes. "No one's home... How did Anjali...?"

"She must've been bitten," Karthik replied, wiping the blood off his knife. "We found her on a bus full of those things."

He approached Meher, motioning for her to follow him upstairs, away from the horrifying sight of her friend's corpse, now mangled and lifeless.

"R-right. Karthik... what about Aunty and Uncle?" Meher whispered as they ascended to the second floor.

"They're either one of those things... or hiding somewhere, hoping to be saved."

"What do we do now? The police aren't coming... the officials aren't responding..." Her voice cracked, the reality crashing down on her.

"I don't know," Karthik admitted, his shoulders sagging as they entered the master bedroom. It was a large space, dominated by a king-sized bed draped with translucent white curtains. Shelves lined the walls, filled with books and trinkets, now forgotten relics of a life that felt like a distant dream.

They sat down on the couches on either side of the bed, their faces pale and drawn. Karthik glanced at his phone for the fifth time, a faint flicker of hope still lingering in his eyes.

"What is it?" Meher asked, her voice barely a whisper.

"The news stations are still broadcasting," Karthik said, his voice strained. "They're sending updates."

"What's the latest update?" she asked, leaning forward, her heart pounding in her chest.

"You remember how I told you we were going to be rescued soon? Like, an hour ago?" His tone was bitter, defeated.

"Yes! Yes! What about it? Has it begun?"

"Yeah, that's not happening anymore..."

"What?! Why not? What happened?" Meher's voice was a desperate plea as she moved closer, her eyes wide with fear.

"The UN has issued orders to block all red zones."

"Red zones?" she echoed, confusion clouding her features.

"Places that are highly infected," Karthik explained, his voice hollow.

"And...?" she pressed, dread creeping into her voice.

"And India just happens to be in the red zone..." He dropped his head into his hands, his fingers gripping his hair as he let out a heavy sigh.

Meher could only stare at him, the weight of his words sinking in like a stone in her chest.

***

France
Standard Time: 11:30 AM
Paris
Date: Unknown
(All conversations in French)

"Clara, please don't do this," Julien pleaded, his voice heavy with concern. The dim lighting of the van accentuated the lines of worry on his face as he glanced between Clara and Florian. The children huddled close, whispering in hushed tones, their innocent giggles breaking through the tension.

Clara's gaze softened as she looked at the three children, then hardened with resolve. "I have to, Julien. We can't keep hiding here. We're running out of food and water, and if we stay in this van any longer, we're sitting ducks." Her voice wavered slightly, but her determination was unwavering.

Florian shifted uncomfortably, his blue eyes flickering with fear. "But Clara, it's too dangerous out there. We've seen what those things can do."

Clara took a deep breath, her hands trembling as she reached out to touch his shoulder. "I know, but we have to find a safer place. Somewhere secure where these children won't have to hide in fear every day."

Julien stepped forward, his body tense with anxiety. "Let me go with you, then. We can look for a place together. Leaving you alone out there is madness."

"No, Julien." Clara's tone was firm, leaving no room for argument. "If something happens to me, the children will still have you and Florian. We can't all risk our lives." She turned towards the back of the van, where the kids were now peering at her with wide eyes. "Elisa, Manon, Quentin," she said softly, kneeling down to their level, "you have to be brave, okay? Stay close to Julien and Florian, and don't go anywhere until I get back."

"Promise you'll come back, Clara?" Quentin, the youngest of the three, looked up at her with tears brimming in his eyes.

Clara swallowed hard, her heart clenching at the fear in his voice. "I promise," she whispered, though deep down, she wasn't sure she could keep that promise. She stood up, glancing one last time at Julien and Florian. "Take care of them."

Before Julien could protest further, Clara opened the van door. A sliver of daylight cut through the gloom inside, illuminating the dust particles suspended in the air. She stepped out, feeling the cold, sharp air of the Parisian morning hit her face like a splash of water. The streets were eerily quiet, save for the distant, guttural groans of the infected.

Clara tightened her grip on the baseball bat she had salvaged from an abandoned store. It felt small and inadequate in her hands, but it was all she had. The weight of it was a comfort, a reminder that she wasn't completely defenseless.

As she moved cautiously down the street, every shadow seemed to hold a threat. Her heart pounded in her chest, the sound echoing in her ears like a drum. She strained to hear any noise, any indication that the infected were nearby.

Clara's memories swirled like shadows in the night as she moved cautiously through the shattered city. Each step brought her deeper into the desolation, each breath a reminder of what she had lost. She could almost hear Adrian's laughter, feel his warmth beside her, as if he were just out of reach.

She remembered the smell of fresh coffee in the mornings, the way sunlight spilled across the wooden floors of their small Parisian apartment. Adrian would be in the kitchen, humming some old tune, his hair tousled from sleep. She would watch him with a smile, imagining their future-long walks along the Seine, quiet evenings with a book, and the laughter of children they dreamed of having someday.

But that life was gone. The day everything changed was seared into her memory like a scar. They had been at a café, celebrating their engagement. She could still taste the sweetness of champagne on her lips, feel the joy bubbling inside her as they talked about their future. They were making plans-vacations, a family, a life filled with love and adventure. She never imagined it would be their last happy moment together.

The first scream shattered their world. Clara remembered how everything had slowed down, her mind struggling to grasp the horror unfolding around them. People ran in all directions, their faces twisted with fear and confusion. Adrian grabbed her hand, pulling her close, his voice calm even as chaos erupted.

"It's going to be okay," he had whispered, his eyes searching hers. "We're going to get through this."

But they hadn't. The infected were everywhere, their eyes empty, movements jerky and unnatural. Clara could still hear the crash of glass, the shrieks of terror as people were dragged down, torn apart. Adrian had pulled her into an alley, his grip tight, his face pale with fear. They ran, ducking through side streets and abandoned buildings, trying to stay one step ahead of the nightmare chasing them.

They ended up in a small boutique, barricading the doors as best they could. Adrian had turned to her, his eyes fierce with determination.

"I'll protect you," he had said, his voice breaking. "I promise."

But promises meant nothing in the face of what came next. The infected broke through, a flood of death and fury. Clara had screamed, swinging wildly with a piece of broken metal, but there were too many. They dragged Adrian down, their jaws snapping, blood splattering as he struggled beneath them.

His eyes met hers, wide with pain and terror, and she couldn't reach him. She couldn't save him. The last thing she remembered was his scream, a sound that haunted her dreams, before darkness swallowed her whole.

She woke up days later in a makeshift hospital, her body bruised and broken, but alive. They told her she was lucky, that she had been found barely breathing, covered in blood. But she didn't feel lucky. Adrian was gone, torn from her, and she was left in a world that no longer made sense.

Clara wandered through the ruins of Paris, numb to everything. The city she loved was unrecognizable, a wasteland of shattered glass and twisted metal. The Eiffel Tower stood like a broken promise against the grey sky, its iron bones stark and empty. Bodies littered the streets, the stench of death thick in the air.

She thought about ending it all, following Adrian wherever he had gone. But something stopped her-the memory of his voice, his smile, the way he had looked at her with such love. He would have wanted her to survive, to keep going, no matter how much it hurt.

And then she found the children-Elisa, Manon, and Quentin-huddled together in a wrecked car, their eyes wide with fear. They were so young, so fragile. She couldn't leave them. She couldn't let them suffer the same fate as Adrian. Protecting them gave her a purpose, a reason to keep fighting.

Julien and Florian came later, two survivors she met in the ruins of a supermarket. They were battered and bruised, but alive. They had been searching for supplies, risking their lives for a few cans of food. Clara admired their courage, their will to survive in a world gone mad. They became a family, bound together by loss and hope.

Julien, with his quiet strength, had become her rock, always there with a steady hand and a reassuring word. Florian, with his quick wit and endless optimism, brought a light to their dark days, always finding a way to make them laugh, even when it seemed impossible.

But now, as Clara stood in the middle of the street, the bat heavy in her hands, she knew laughter wasn't enough. They were running out of time, the infected closing in. They needed a safe place, somewhere to rest, to plan, to survive.

For Adrian. For the children. For Julien and Florian. She had to be strong. She had to survive.

Taking a deep breath, Clara steeled herself and moved forward, her steps echoing in the silence. She would keep her promise to protect them. She would find a way to keep them safe.

And she would not let Adrian's death be in vain.