Samuel and Tahlia stood side by side, their figures cast in a somber silhouette against the backdrop of an old, gnarled oak tree. The late afternoon sun filtered through the leaves above, dappling the ground with patches of golden light. A freshly dug grave lay at their feet, the earth dark and freshly turned.

Tahlia, her eyes brimming with unshed tears, clutched a small knife in her trembling hand. She approached the ancient oak tree. Her fingers tracing the rough surface, seeking a place to carve the young deceased girl's name in memoriam.

With each careful stroke of the blade, Tahlia carved the name into the tree, her emotions laid bare in the etched lines. The letters were deep, permanent, a testament to the love and loss that hung heavy in the air. As she finished, a single tear fell from her eye, landing on the carved name, as if sealing the memory in the bark for all time.

As she stepped away from the tree Samuel saw the name 'Tulip' carved deeply into the bark. He stood by Tahlia's side, a pillar of silent strength, offering his support without words.

Wrapping his arm around her cold weeping body, Samuel offered Tahlia his comfort. Gently caressing her arm, warming her body, they both gazed down at the small grave.

"I named her Tulip, after my favourite flower." Tahlia whimpered, wiping tears from under her eyes. "She didn't know how to talk when I found her." She added explaining to Samuel.

Samuel kept quiet, allowing Tahlia to speak her feelings. "I found her four weeks ago. Alone and terrified. She had no one." Tahlia spoke. "I had to protect her. But I failed." She frowned staring to the ground.

Tahlia timidly gazed up into Samuel's eyes. He looked comfortably back into hers. "You should be afraid of me." She said her voice sounding dry and dull.

"Why?" Samuel asked worried.

"I'm a murderer." Tahlia responded, tears flowing down her cheeks like a stream of water.

Samuel shook his head, attempting to push the detailed images of the old man he had killed out of his head. Taking a large deep breath, his chest enlarging from the air. "So am I." Samuel managed to say. Tahlia's eyes met with Samuel's, his discomfort was deeply displayed in his long gaze.

"I didn't have a choice. He was going to kill me. There was a part of me that wanted him to, I wouldn't have to worry anymore. I wouldn't have to deal with this cruel world. Yet, something deep inside me told me to keep fighting." Samuel opened up. He longed to release his bottled-up emotions, but revealing his vulnerability in front of Tahlia was a daunting prospect. He didn't want to show his weakness. "Now, I feel as though I'm in a state worse than death." He admitted, his heart weighed down by an unbearable sorrow.

Tahlia looked to the grave, the flow of her tears began to slow. "We have to kill him." She muttered. "The Whisperer has to die." She added, wiping a single tear away from her cheek.

Samuel exhaled deeply, with a soft voice he spoke, "He will. I promise." Placing his hand onto her back, he stared into Tahlia's deep blue eyes. "It's getting cold out here. We should head back inside." Samuel suggested.

Tahlia agreed, sluggishly turning around, folding both her arms. Samuel comfortably walked alongside her, his eyes jealously glued to Tahlia's tucked away hands. His heart was telling him to reach out for her soft hand and hold it tightly, but his mind was telling him to keep walking. His arm to his side, his fingers involuntarily reached out towards her, but he kept pulling himself away.

Samuel allowed a distressed Tahlia step through the open gate first. His sorrowful eyes couldn't lose her sight. As the gates shut behind them Samuel spotted the old man, from the cage, grinning with a large open smile as he waited for him.

Samuel faced Tahlia softly putting his hand on her shoulder, "Are you going to be okay on your own?" Samuel asked, his eyes dancing with a soft glow as he glanced into her eyes.

"I'll be okay. See you around." She spoke depressingly treading down the middle of the street. Samuel watched as she stepped away, her head low to the ground. His eyes slightly watering with guilt.

His attention switched to the old man laying against an old lamp post, his smug smile still large. As Samuel stepped closer the old man muttered, "I hate to tell you I told you so."

"Have some sympathy. A little girl just died." Samuel angrily responded.

"I don't pity anyone. I've lost too many." The old man spoke stepping away from the lamp post.

Samuel shook his head in disbelief. With his hands on his waist he spoke, "What can we do?"

"Follow me kid." The old man responded rubbing his hands together with a menacing grin. Samuel ventured out through the gates, following the man closely behind.

The old man's stride was firm and determined, leading Samuel through the eerie silence of the suburbs. Samuel was led through unfamiliar roads, scatted with burned down cars, charred to a crisp, and damaged houses, looted by scavengers.

The old man's path eventually led them to the outskirts of the city, where the ominous silhouette of a construction site loomed in the distance. The site was a maze of skeletal steel structures, partially finished buildings, and heavy machinery frozen in time.

They reached the entrance of the construction site, a rusted gate that creaked with a spine-chilling screech from the harsh cold wind. The old man led Samuel around the edge of the fence, eventually stopping at a large red fire truck on the outskirts of the construction site. The tires were deflated, and the petrol tank had a long tube jammed inside, which was once used by a scavenger to syphon petrol.

A thick white ladder rested against the side of the truck. Using the ladder, the old man quietly climbed onto the roof of the truck, Samuel followed behind. His heart began to pound in fearful anticipation, as the twilight orange sky quickly became an inky black.

Pulling his weight onto the roof, Samuel joined the old man, as he gazed out into the darkness of the construction site. Moonlight filtered through the gaps in the skeletal structures, casting eerie patterns on the ground. Shadows sluggishly moved from inside, hidden by the darkness. As the wind picked up the echoes of croaky groans came with it. Samuel's eyes darted around nervously, swallowing hard, his throat dry. The moonlight revealed a large horde of the dead, sluggishly milling around the centre of the construct site, blocked by large debris.

"I've counted at least one hundred and fifty of them." The old man whispered.

Samuel's mouth was wide open. It was the biggest horde he has seen. Stepping backwards petrified, his heel almost hung off the roof of the truck. "How did you find this?" Samuel whispered, his voice shaking.

"When they were building the walls for the community, they came here. Scavenging for metal plates, wooden boards, and nails. There was a lot more of us. This is them." The old man sighed, pain in his voice. "They were left here to die. Forgotten, under the Whisperers orders." The old man added.

Samuel gazed out at the dead. The hidden story behind them made him slightly emotional. "How could this help us?" He wondered.

"If the Whisperer can control the dead. He should be able to handle a horde." The old man spoke with a devious smile.

Samuel shook his head, his eyes widened with disbelief, "You can't be thinking that could you?" He argued realising what the old man wanted to use the horde for.

"With your help or not I am going to lead them back to the community." The old man said his voice steady.

"There's innocent people inside." Samuel pleaded. "You can't possibly..." He added before being interrupted.

"They aren't innocent. They chose to forget their friends and family. They chose to praise some lunatic with a big mouth. It was their choice." The old man disagreed.

"They aren't all like that. A lot are just trying to get by." Samuel pleaded attempting to change his mind.

"If they stand by him. They all praise him." The old man said angrily.

Samuel shook his head. Facing toward the man he strongly stared into his eyes, "I can't let you do this." Samuel spoke.

The old man's face turned into a blank expression of disappointment, "Well that's a shame." He muttered.

The tension between Samuel and the old man reached its breaking point. In the dim moonlight, their faces were contorted with anger and determination. Without another word, the old man lunged at Samuel, his wiry frame moving surprisingly fast. He swung a fist at Samuel's face, but Samuel managed to duck just in time, narrowly avoiding the punch.

Samuel retaliated with a quick jab to the old man's side, causing him to stumble backward. The old man, undeterred, regained his balance and charged at Samuel once more. This time, their fists clashed with a loud thud, both men struggling for dominance on the cramped roof of the fire truck.

They grappled with each other, their bodies twisting and writhing as they fought for control. They rolled dangerously close to the edge of the roof, the drop into the construction site below a menacing threat.

Samuel managed to pin the old man momentarily, but the old man's eyes gleamed with a desperate resolve. With a sudden burst of strength, he shoved Samuel off him, sending him tumbling backward. Samuel desperately grabbed onto the edge of the truck's roof, hanging on by his fingertips. Samuel gazed down underneath him as the horde advanced underneath him, attempting to grab his hanging feet.

The old man, gasping for breath, stepped above Samuel, a sinister glint in his eyes. Reaching his hand out to Samuel for help. Ignoring his gesture, using his strength Samuel pulled his body back on top of the roof. Laying flat he caught his breath.

The old man picked up a metal pipe laying loosely on top of the roof of the fire truck. Holding it tightly he stepped over Samuel's tired body. "You can't stop this." The old man spoke.

With the metal pipe in his hand, the old man raised it high above his head, ready to strike Samuel. The moonlight gleamed off the cold steel, casting an eerie shine on his determined face. Slamming the pipe hard against Samuel's head, his consciousness went black. Laying unconscious on the roof of the fire truck, the old man abandoned him.

Samuel's unconscious body remained on the cold metal surface of the truck's roof. Time passed, but he remained unaware of his surroundings. His head throbbed with pain from the blow he had received, and his thoughts drifted in a hazy, dreamlike state.

Slowly, he opened his eyes, blinking away the disorientation. His vision gradually cleared. The sky was a clear blue, with large clouds overhead. Samuel had a large painful bump on the top of his head. Placing his hand over the bump, he sluggishly sat upright. His head swivelled towards the construction site. The horde was gone. No trace of them left behind. The gates were left open with hundreds of dirty footprints along the road.

Standing to his weary feet, Samuel shuffled his tired body to the ladder. Carefully climbing down, his feet touched the ground. Tipping over he caught himself on the side of the truck. His vision became blurry once more. Squinting his eyes he fought against the pain.

Stumbling down the road, he slowly made his way back towards the community. Every step was painful. His eyes felt as though they're were burning. Eventually making it to the community, Samuel came to a sudden stop. His mouth gaping open in distress, his eyes began to water, his body began to shake in fear. The horde pushed up against the walls of the community. Attempting to break inside. Their groans echoed across the street.