"What about the others? They won't know where we've gone," Ivory spoke softly to Lyria as they ran down the stairs.

They'd packed their bags quickly, prioritising food and weapons over sanitary items and clothing. Lyria had stood by the door, checking down the hall every so often, ordering Rosabelle to keep an eye on the incoming horde. Rosabelle had complied; her gaze fixated on the creatures slowly surrounding their shelter.

"We'll head to the pharmacy. It'll be safer there," Lyria responded. "Rosabelle, grab a sharpie and write a note on the door."

Rosabelle nodded, dashing back inside to grab a sharpie.

There was a soft growl in the distance. The horde was edging closer.

Lyria gripped her weapon tighter, a baseball bat she'd found underneath the bed in her apartment. She needed to brave for her friends. They were terrified of the outside world, paralysed by fear after Rebeka's death.

Lyria had witnessed her family being torn apart by the zombies. She hadn't known what they were then, thinking them desperate human beings that were starving, willing to do anything to eat.

The reality was far worse. These zombies had been human once. They'd been changed, turned into famished beasts, with no memory of their past lives.

Rebeka had been slaughtered by her brother. Katherin had told her.

If they came across someone that they knew, there had to be no hesitation. They needed to end that person's life, no matter who they were.

"I've got it. Here," Rosabelle spoke through the silence.

Rosabelle's cheeks were flushed, her pupils dilated from searching through the darkness. She'd had trouble finding a sharpie and had panicked, afraid that she would take too long and be the reason her friends were slaughtered.

Rosabelle scrawled the address of the pharmacy on the wooden door, stepping back momentarily to see whether it was legible against the dark wood.

It was, but barely.

There was the soft thud of footsteps.

Rosabelle slipped the sharpie in her pocket. It would have to do.

They needed to leave now.

"This way. Hurry!" Lyria whispered. 

She tugged Esther behind her, running down to the edge of the docks. The others followed, constantly looking over their shoulders in fear that they would be pursued. None followed; that they knew of.

The docks were quiet and dangerously open. There was rope strewn over the ground, a sombre reminder that there had been boats moored once.

Ivory looked down at her feet. There was glow-in-the-dark paint splattered along the wooden panels. A legacy left by Morgana and Ttod.

Ivory felt like she was going to spew. She'd never see Ttod again. Morgana was risking her life to save Katherin, and she'd return to their shelter to be faced with a horde.

They hadn't done enough. The others would be overcome by the zombies. They'd never see their friends again.

Ivory retched, her knees hitting the floor.

Raven dropped by Ivory's side, holding her hair back.

Ivory wiped her mouth with the back of her hand.

"I'm sorry, I'm wasting time. We should go. It's still dangerous out here," Ivory spoke softly, standing up quickly.

Raven steadied her. 

"Don't push yourself. We can rest," Raven spoke softly.

Lyria shook her head slowly, but she didn't dare speak up. There was no benefit in fighting amongst each other, not when their lives were at stake.

Still, it wouldn't do them any good if the zombies were to catch up to them. They needed to find the pharmacy before nightfall, before the zombies were shrouded by mist and difficult to see coming.

"No, I'm fine," Ivory insisted. "We need to keep going."

Lyria nodded to Ivory, thanking her silently. She could already hear the approaching footsteps of the horde. It wouldn't be long until they were surrounded, and Raven was the only person who knew how to fight.

Lyria had enrolled in defence classes as an elective at university. It was supposed to start the following semester, after the summer break. That would have been in three weeks.

Lyria doubted that she'd be able to return to her normal life in three weeks. She didn't think she'd ever be able to. The World Wars had taken years to reach a conclusion, and this apocalypse was bigger.

There was no safe space, no neutral country. Everyone had been enlisted into a war they didn't know anything about.

Lyria didn't want to admit it, but she didn't have faith in their survival. She'd watched her mother suffer a gruesome death, eaten alive as she tried to protect the only family she had left, her husband and two children. Lyria had watched as Izzy climbed out the window, only to be pulled back through the window by her hair. The zombie had reacted so quickly, that Lyria didn't have time to process the situation before Izzy's throat was torn out.

Lyria shook her head. She couldn't think about that right now. They'd only survive if she remained focused, alert.

"If you're sure," Lyria responded. "It's this way. Half an hour, at most. We just have to move quickly and quietly. The horde will track us otherwise."

Rosabelle was the first to nod, gripping the torch tighter. She'd been so afraid, so reluctant to go outside for fear of being slaughtered, but now? Rosabelle was resigned to the idea. Like Lyria, she didn't think she'd survive this apocalypse.

If Jason, her boyfriend, hadn't survived the zombies, then what chance did she have? Jason had trained ruthlessly to be accepted into the navy. His superiors had been so impressed by his talent that he'd been recommended as a lieutenant. If he'd been accepted, he'd be the youngest lieutenant in over a hundred years.

The results of the recommended were supposed to be revealed last Friday.

Jason was already dead.

Rosabelle has convinced herself that Jason was dead. He had to be.

The alternatives were much worse. 

"It's just around here," Lyria murmured.

Lyria pushed through the undergrowth, careful not to leave any evidence. They still didn't know if zombies could track by scent, but Lyria was betting on it. There was no other reason for that zombie to have entered their shelter.

That said, Lyria was certain that zombies were tracking survivors by sound. Esther had said that the zombies had attacked her while she was calling Katherin's name, and Ivory and Katherin had been talking when the zombie had attacked them.

It just didn't make sense why the horde had come after them.

The back door was unlocked but rusted as if it hadn't been used in years. Lyria tugged it open, wincing as the door creaked loudly. They'd just alerted the zombies of their presence.

That was if they were still pursuing them. Lyria tried to think positive. Nothing would happen to them if they just bunkered down and kept quiet. It had worked for a week, with only one incident.

They just needed to wait for the others.