You can call me Vee , I'm an 18 y/o fem lesbian from the UK, and I pinkie promise I'm a sweet angel and don't bite... mostly. I absolutely adore a good yap or connect with people, so feel free to dm, mutual me, or make friends with me because I probably (definitely) want to but am far too anxious to reach out myself.
I re-made this blog after having to delete my main... and the original heretical moon blog.. which has me rocking back and forth in a padded room, but we move on!! I love writing, especially vampire smut... or really anything about PaigeThree, and bones. honestly, I just wanna write threebones yuri atm.... god forbidddd a girl wants to freak out a little.
even if no one cares i will keep posting threebones because i asked. i want it.
I love requests, so feel free to ask away anddddd please make friends with me, I love meeting people.. not in a like loser friendless way though.. I hope I don't seem like a loser. I'm cool, I swear!!
Does anyone have any tips for getting over a situationship you were really really close with just suddenly ghosting you. Itâs my first time and Iâm not taking it well.
Soooooo Iâve been painting a lot for class and thought that maybe it would be good exposure therapy to post some as I absolutely hate sharing my work đ
A/N: been sort of falling back into a really lonely place recently and writing this honestly helped me accept my emotions so much. I think its vulnerability makes it good enough to post andddd itâs a nice change from all my crazy zombie writing.
Title: (dream)
Warnings: angst, themes of depression, loneliness, anxiety⊠uhhh just generally a melancholy fic I think?
â-
Paige wakes before the alarm, as she often does now, in that thin hour where the city is holding its breath. The light through the blinds is diluted, milked of certainty, a pale wash that makes everything feel provisional. Her ceiling fan ticks once, twice, an old, arthritic sound, before settling back into stillness. She lies there, eyes open, counting nothing in particular, letting the ache of consciousness seep back into her limbs.
Her apartment smells faintly of last nightâs chamomile tea and rosin dust carried home in the folds of her bag. There is something lonely about the way space holds scent, how it lingers even when the person who made it has gone quiet. Paige presses the heel of her hand into her sternum, as if to keep herself from floating away, as if gravity has become optional and she must choose, deliberately, to stay.
Getting up is a small choreography. Sit. Swing legs over the edge of the bed. Feet to floor. The wood is cold, grounding. She stands naked in the half-light, tall and slim and golden even in exhaustion, a body trained to look alive even when the inside feels moth-eaten. Her reflection in the mirror catches her off guard. The girl staring back has long blonde hair tangled into a halo of sleep, green eyes dulled but still sharp, still observant. A Barbie left out in the rain, maybe. Something once immaculate now quietly weathered.
She smiles at herself out of habit. It looks convincing, practiced, radiant enough to pass. The smile drops the moment she turns away.
In the kitchen, the kettle screams too loudly, an accusation rather than a request. She flinches and laughs under her breath, a sound with no audience. Coffee feels like too much commitment, too bitter, so she settles for tea again. She watches the steam curl upward, ghostlike, thinking of all the things that rise and disappear without anyone noticing.
Her phone sits face-down on the counter. She doesnât flip it over. She already knows what it will say. No new messages. No missed calls. The group chat that once buzzed with late-night voice notes and inside jokes has gone dormant, its last message timestamped weeks ago, a single heart reaction to a photo she canât quite remember posting. Everyone is busy. Everyone is tired. Everyone means well. Paige understands this intellectually. Emotionally, it still feels like being slowly, politely erased.
Work waits for her like a held breath.
The studio smells of sweat and disinfectant and old wood soaked with years of music. It is too bright, fluorescent lights buzzing overhead, a hive of nervous energy. Dancers stretch in silence or chatter too loudly, laughter brittle, eyes flicking toward the mirrors as if checking themselves for cracks. Paige rolls her shoulders back, lifts her chin, steps into the room as if onto a stage.
âMorning,â she says, voice light, crisp, professional. Radiant.
Someone nods. Someone else grunts. A few smiles flicker and vanish. Everyone is on edge; the show opens soon, funding is uncertain, the choreographer has been sleeping badly and taking it out on everyone. Paige feels it immediately, the tension vibrating through the floor, through her bones. She absorbs it the way she absorbs everything, without permission.
Her body knows what to do even when her mind lags behind. At the barre, she moves with precise devotion, lines clean and intentional, every extension a promise she fully intends to keep. Her muscles burn in a familiar, comforting way. Pain with purpose. Pain that makes sense. She focuses on breath, on balance, on the quiet miracle of not falling apart.
âPaige, again,â the choreographer snaps, and it isnât cruel, not really, but it lands wrong anyway.
She nods, jaw tight, and goes again. Her foot slips a fraction of an inch. Itâs nothing. Barely noticeable. The room stills.
âFor fuckâs sake,â someone mutters, not even at her, just into the air, but Paige feels it like a hand around her throat.
âIâve got it,â she says quickly, too quickly, heat rushing up her neck. She laughs, sharp and brittle. âRelax.â
The word echoes. Relax. As if she has not spent her entire life doing exactly that, contorting herself into something palatable, something steady, something in charge. As if she doesnât wake every morning bracing for the quiet.
Later, in the bathroom, she locks herself into a stall and presses her forehead against the cool metal door. Her breath comes shallow, uneven. She thinks of calling someone, anyone, but the thought collapses in on itself. Who would she call? What would she say? Hi, Iâm sad in a way that has no beginning and no end. Hi, I feel like a house with all the furniture removed.
She swallows it down. She always does.
The day drags. Notes are given. Corrections pile up. Paige offers solutions, organises spacing, takes charge the way she knows how, because leadership feels safer than vulnerability. If she is useful, she is necessary. If she is necessary, maybe she wonât disappear.
By the time she leaves, the sky has turned the color of bruised peaches. The city hums around her, alive and indifferent. She walks home instead of taking the train, letting the rhythm of her steps replace the rhythm of music. Shop windows reflect her back at herself; tall, elegant, composed. A woman who looks like she has somewhere to be.
Her apartment greets her with silence so complete it feels intentional. She drops her bag by the door, toeing off her shoes, and stands there for a moment, suspended between arrival and absence. No one asks about her day. No one notices the slight tremor in her hands.
She showers in near darkness, letting the water pound against her shoulders until her skin is flushed and aching. The heat loosens something in her chest, and for a dangerous moment she considers crying. The feeling swells, a tide pulling back before it can crash. She leans her head against the tile and lets out a sound that is not quite a sob, not quite a laugh. It disappears into the steam.
Dinner is an afterthought; toast eaten over the sink, crumbs catching on her fingers. She doesnât bother with music. The quiet feels honest, at least. She curls up on the couch with a blanket that smells faintly of detergent and something else, memory, maybe? And stares at nothing.
Her mind drifts backward without asking permission. Late nights after rehearsal, bodies sprawled on studio floors, sharing takeout and secrets. Someoneâs head on her shoulder. The warmth of being known without effort. She remembers laughing until her ribs hurt, remembers feeling held in a way that had nothing to do with arms.
She presses her thumb into the cushion, grounding herself in the present. Nostalgia is a soft knife. It cuts without drawing blood.
Paige knows she is off, in a way. The word sits heavy and clinical in her mouth, a diagnosis without a prescription. She still gets out of bed. She still smiles. She still dances beautifully. From the outside, nothing is wrong. From the inside, everything feels slightly muted, like sheâs living behind glass.
She scrolls through her phone despite herself. Photos of engagements, promotions, new apartments, new loves. She double-taps dutifully, leaves heart emojis like breadcrumbs, proof of life. When someone messages her âHey stranger! We should catch up soon!!â Relief and resentment bloom simultaneously. Soon is a word with no weight. Soon is not now.
She types back, âOf course! Miss you â€ïžâ and means it. She always means it.
Night settles slowly, wrapping the city in a dim hush. Paige changes into pajamas and climbs into bed, arranging the pillows like a person beside her, something to hold, as if symmetry might coax peace into existence. She turns off the lamp and lets the darkness take her.
In the quiet, everything comes back. The loneliness stretches out beside her, familiar and intimate. She stares at the ceiling, eyes burning, heart thudding too loudly in the hollow of her chest. She thinks about how hard she tries. How much she feels. How exhausting it is to be the brightest thing in a room when no one is looking directly at you.
Her light, once effortless, now requires maintenance. Some days it flickers. Some days it feels like it might go out entirely, and the thought terrifies her, not because of the darkness, but because sheâs not sure anyone would notice.
Eventually, sleep claims her in fragments. Half-dreams where she is dancing alone on an empty stage, spotlight fixed, applause echoing from somewhere she cannot see. She bows anyway, graceful even in solitude.
In the morning, she will wake again. She will smile again. She will keep going, because that is what she knows how to do. Because hope, however faint, still hums under her skin like a remembered melody.
And somewhere deep inside, beneath the exhaustion and the ache, Paige is still there. Soft, sensitive, radiant in a way that cannot be entirely extinguished. Waiting. To be held. Seen. Needed. Loved.
Threebones eventual smut fic inspired by the song homecoming by Ethel Cain and Jenniferâs bodyâŠ.. Jennifer check bones and Anita lesniki Paige? Paige who would do anything bones told her as long as she smiled and said it in the right tone?? But also bratty Paige who argues with bones over everything just to seem less into her?
posting this now bc otherwise I WILL forget my memory always betrays me !!! Curses !!! This is far more than six sentences but I really like this section so Iâm posting it <3 LMAOOO
Bones bit her lip in thought. They couldnât do anything about the fog, but she knows someone who can. Determined, she quickly rushes back to her cabin, her eyes locking on Paige when she bursts into the room. She seems frightened as her attention turns from the window in the room to Bones. âWhat was that-â She begins, but Bones cuts her off.
âThereâs no time to explain â you think you can do something about this fog for us?â She feels elated when Paige nods, scooping her out of the tub without a second thought. âPerfect. Alright, Iâm going to throw you off the back so they donât spot you.â She pushes out of her cabin, heading portside, as she explains this to Paige. âWeâll throw down the net, climb in when youâre done, and weâll pull you right back up. Got it?â
âYes, maâam,â Paige replies with a nod, although Bones can tell that sheâs nervous. Another cannon fire from the enemy whizzes past the ship. She feels Paige cling to her a little tighter.
âHey. Look at me.â Paige does, and Bones gives her a reassuring smile. âYou wonât be in any danger under the waves. Weâll be fine up here, so donât worry about us. Youâve got this. Yeah?â
âYeah.â Paige reaffirms as she takes a deep breath. She nods for Bones to dump her, watching as the mermaid disappears beneath the waves.
A/N: RAAAA PT2!! I wonât make anyone wait for this as itâs alll finished đ uhhh also here is the link to pt1 đ
Title: bang bang (my baby shot me down) pt2
Pairing: threebones
Warnings: MDNI!!!! graphic depictions of violence and gore, zombie attacks, biting, dismemberment, exposed organs, blood, major character death, graphic descriptions of dying, panic, physical injury, zombie apocalypse, mass death, and societal collapse, intense psychological distress, panic attacks, hyperventilation, dissociation, trauma responses, grief, survivorâs guilt, watching loved ones die, body horror. Vomiting/retching, near death experiences, fear, desperation, and sustained high-tension scenes, infection, illness, and implied impending death. If you need to avoid any of these topics, please read with care!!!
This is quite an intense fic so please read with that in mind!!
âââ
Krystal grinned, eyes sharp and curious now. âSo. Paige, huh.â
Bones stiffened just a little. âWhat about her?â
âOh, donât play dumb,â Krystal said, sing-song. âYou two have been disgustingly cute. Like⊠annoyingly so.â
Bones tried, and failed, to hide her smile. âSheâs been through a lot.â
Krystal softened, just a fraction. âYeah. Still. Youâre different around her.â
Bones shrugged, eyes flicking away. âShe makes things⊠quieter.â
Krystal made a gagging noise. âI hate that for me.â
They finished packing up, pockets stuffed, bags heavy. Bones slung hers over her shoulder, still grinning, still buzzing, completely unaware of how wrong everything was about to feel.
âAlright,â Krystal said, heading for the door. âLetâs get back before Sillexa decides to leave us for dead.â
Bones laughed. âShe wouldnât.â
They stepped out into the sunlight, joking and shoving each other, the ring pop warm in Bonesâ pocket, bright and ridiculous and painfully hopeful.
Bones kept worrying the edge of the ring pop wrapper between her fingers as they walked, plastic crackling softly with every step. She hadnât even realised she was doing it until Krystal slowed just enough to fall in beside her and cocked her head, eyes flicking down.
âYouâre gonna wear a hole through that thing,â Krystal said lightly. âRelax. Itâs not going anywhere.â
Bones huffed out a weak laugh and stuffed the ring pop back into her pocket, like sheâd been caught doing something embarrassing. âShut up.â
They were heading back toward the pharmacy theyâd already hit once, because it was quiet. Because the doors still hung open, glass intact. Because the shelves, miraculously, werenât stripped bare yet. Greedy felt like the wrong word when survival demanded excess, when tomorrow was a threat rather than a promise.
Still, they each grabbed a shopping basket like kids in a supermarket, eyes bright with the dangerous optimism of maybe this is fine.
Krystal bumped her shoulder into Bonesâ as they stepped inside. âShe really loves you, you know.â
Bones froze just a fraction.
âWhat?â she said, too quickly.
Krystal pretended to study a rack of bandages. âPaige. The way she looks at you. Like you personally invented oxygen.â
Bones swallowed. Her throat felt tight all of a sudden, like sheâd inhaled wrong. âShe doesnât.â
âShe does,â Krystal said simply. âItâs gross. Iâve seen war documentaries with less devotion.â
Bones laughed, but it cracked around the edges. She crouched to grab painkillers, hands shaking just enough that she had to steady herself against the shelf.
âI was gonna ask her to move in,â she said suddenly.
Krystal stilled.
Bones kept talking, words spilling out now that sheâd opened the door. âI know it was fast. I know. But weâd been friends for ages beforeâyears. And when we finallyââ She shrugged. âIt just felt⊠right.â
She stood, basket hanging forgotten from her arm. âI had it all planned. Proper sappy shit. Rose petals. Under that tree in her favourite parkâthe one with the stupid fucking ducks that always chase you.â
Krystal smiled softly. âThe one she feeds even though she pretends she hates them?â
She laughed then, small and broken. âI had a lightsaber. A working replica. Still in my closet, probably. Right next to her pyjamas.â
Krystalâs smile faded.
Bones stared at the floor. âHer slippers. That robe she always stole from me. I bought her a toothbrush because she kept forgetting to bring one over.â She shook her head, incredulous. âI used to complain about how much space she took up.â
Her voice wobbled. She cleared her throat and tried again. âShe takes up all the space. You know? Like⊠she walks into a room and itâs brighter. Even when sheâs being a sarcastic nightmare.â
Krystal leaned against the shelf, quieter now. âSheâs a lot.â
âSheâs everything,â Bones said. Her eyes burned. âShe gets excited about the dumbest things. She has opinions about everything. She makes this face when sheâs thinkingâlike sheâs arguing with the universe.â
She pressed her lips together, breathing through her nose. âSheâs such a fucking geek. Do you know how many Grogu figurines she owns?â
Krystal snorted. âAn alarming amount.â
âShe tried to convince me to watch Star Wars in chronological order,â Bones said, voice thick. âChronological.â
They both laughed, and it hurt.
Bones wiped at her face angrily. âI justâ I keep thinking about all the little stuff. The habits. The way she dances when she brushes her teeth. How she hums when sheâs nervous. How she pretends sheâs not scared.â
She swallowed hard. âSheâs so brave. Even when she hates it.â
Silence settled between them, heavy but gentle.
Krystal finally nudged her basket into Bonesâ leg. âAlright,â she said softly. âLetâs grab everything we can carry before the universe notices weâre being sentimental.â
Bones nodded, blinking fast. âYeah. Yeah.â
They filled their baskets greedily, bandages, antiseptic, antibiotics, anything that might buy them time. Bones moved slower now, more careful, the ring pop warm in her pocket like a promise she wasnât ready to let go of.
By the time they made it back to the van, dusk had begun to bruise the sky purple and grey, the light thinning like it was being wrung out of the world. Bonesâ arms ached from the weight of the baskets, fingers numb around the plastic handles. Krystal was breathing a little harder than she wanted to admit, sweat cooling unpleasantly along her spine.
Nothing followed them.
That, more than anything, felt unreal.
The streets were quiet in that awful, listening way, no sudden movement, no scraping footsteps, no curious moans. Just the sound of their own shoes and the distant creak of settling buildings. Evidence, everywhere, that Sillexa had done exactly what she always did; cleaned house.
When the van finally came into view, battered and beloved and miraculous in its continued existence, Krystal let out a shaky laugh. âJesus Christ,â she muttered. âI was starting to think it walked off.â
Bones smiled faintly, already moving faster despite the ache in her shoulders. Relief loosened something in her chest. They were back. They were alive. They had supplies. For a fraction of a second, the world felt almost manageable.
Sillexa was outside, knife in hand, blood dark and tacky along her forearm. She straightened when she saw them, sharp eyes flicking over their bodies for injuries before softening a notch.
âYouâre late,â she said, but there was relief threaded through it.
Krystal lifted her basket in triumph. âLook at this haul and tell me it wasnât worth it.â
Sillexa whistled low. âYou robbed a pharmacy?â
Bones nodded. âTwice.â
âFucking hell,â Sillexa said, a tired smile tugging at her mouth. âAlright. Get in. Quickly.â
Bones reached for the handle.
The moment the van door slid open, the air inside hit her like a wall.
Paige was curled on the mattress at the back, tangled in blankets like sheâd tried to disappear into them. Her hair was damp with sweat, blonde strands plastered to her temples and cheeks. Her face was red and blotchy, eyes huge and glassy and unfocused.
She was making this small, broken sound, half-whine, half-whimper, over and over, like her body had forgotten how to do anything else.
Bonesâ basket hit the floor.
âPaige,â she breathed.
Paigeâs head snapped up at the sound of her voice. Her mouth opened, and whatever sheâd been trying to say came out warped and pathetic, dragged through pain.
âBâBones,â she whimpered. âHurts. Itâ it really hurts.â
Her voice cracked on the last word. She tried to move toward Bones and immediately hissed, folding back into herself, arms wrapping tight around her injured leg like she could protect it that way. Tears slid silently down her cheeks, caught in her lashes.
Bones crossed the van in two steps and dropped to her knees beside the mattress.
âOh, baby,â she said, hands hovering uselessly for a second before settling at Paigeâs shoulders. Paige leaned into her instantly, forehead pressing into Bonesâ collarbone, shaking.
âI donât wannaâ I donât wanna look at it,â Paige mumbled, words blurring together. âLex tried and Iâ I feel sick. Please donât make me.â
Bones swallowed hard, heart breaking cleanly in two.
Sheâd seen Paige dominant, sarcastic, sharp-tongued and unflappable. Sheâd seen her furious, fearless, incandescent with rage. God sheâd seen her panting, whining and in pure bliss. She had never seen her like this, small and folded in on herself, reduced to pain and fear and these awful little sounds she couldnât seem to stop making.
Sillexa hovered near the door, exhaustion etched deep into her face. âAdrenaline wore off,â she said quietly. âSheâs been like this for ten minutes.â
Paige whimpered again as Bones shifted closer, clinging to her shirt with trembling fingers. âPlease,â she whispered. âI donât wanna do it again. It hurts so bad.â
Bones pressed a kiss into her hair, voice thick. âWe wonât do anything right now. I promise. Youâre safe. Iâve got you.â
Paige nodded weakly, like that was all she had left in her.
Krystal stood awkwardly near the front, supplies forgotten at her feet, expression stripped of its usual sharpness. âJesus,â she murmured. âShe looks wrecked.â
Paige let out another small, broken sound at the word, curling tighter into Bonesâ arms.
Bones wrapped herself around her fully now, protective and fierce, rocking them gently as Paige cried, quietly, helplessly, tears soaking into Bonesâ shirt while the van creaked and cooled around them.
Outside, the light continued to die.
Inside, relief curdled into dread as the reality of Paigeâs injury settled heavy and unavoidable between them all.
Sillexa moved quietly, the way she always did when panic threatened to turn into something louder.
She clipped one camping lamp to a hook by the vanâs ceiling, then another, the soft yellow light blooming outward and chasing the dark into the corners. It made the space feel smaller somehow, more intimate, more trapped. Like a confessional on wheels.
âBones. Krystal,â she murmured.
Bones looked up reluctantly, one arm still wrapped tight around Paige. Paige had finally gone quiet, exhausted from crying herself hollow, cheek pressed to Bonesâ chest, breath stuttering every few seconds like her body hadnât caught up to the idea that she wasnât actively dying anymore.
Bones shifted carefully, easing Paige down into the blankets. Paige whimpered in protest, fingers curling in Bonesâ sleeve.
âIâm right here,â Bones whispered, kissing her temple. âNot going anywhere.â
Sillexa gently crowded Bones and Krystal toward the front of the van, backs hunched, voices instinctively dropping. The thin partition of space felt flimsy, every word a risk.
Sillexa scrubbed a hand down her face. There was dried blood at her knuckles she hadnât noticed yet.
âI need to be clear,â she said quietly. âItâs not a bite.â
Bonesâ head snapped up. âWhat?â
Krystal stilled completely.
Sillexa met their eyes, holding the look. âI checked. Properly. No teeth marks. No crescent. Itâs a puncture wound. Nail or metal. Went deep.â
Bones exhaled shakily, relief crashing into her so hard her knees almost gave. âOh my god.â
Krystal swore under her breath. âOkay. Okay, thatâsâ thatâs survivable.â
Sillexa nodded. âThatâs what Iâm thinking. But itâs ugly. Deep puncture, torn tissue, swelling already setting in. If we donât clean it properly, infectionâs gonna have a field day.â
Bones glanced back at Paige without meaning to. She was curled tight, shaking even in sleep, face drawn and pale. The idea of hurting her more made something hot and feral twist in Bonesâ chest.
âShe canât even handle being looked at,â Bones whispered. âShe screamed when I tried.â
âI know,â Sillexa said. Her voice softened. âShe nearly kicked me in the face.â
Krystal huffed weakly, then sobered. âAlright. So. What are we talking?â
Sillexa ticked it off on her fingers. âAntiseptic. Flushing the wound. Painkillersâproper doses, not just âhope for the bestâ. Bandaging. Then rest. Actual rest.â
Bones swallowed. âAnd how do we get her toââ
Sillexa didnât sugarcoat it. âWe donât. Not willingly.â
The silence that followed was thick and awful.
Krystal grimaced. âSheâs strong. And loud.â
âAnd dominant,â Bones added hollowly. âSheâs gonna fight us like hell.â
Sillexa leaned back against the dashboard, eyes closing briefly. âWhich leaves us with options I donât like.â
Krystal sighed. âEither we restrain herâŠâ
Bones shook her head immediately. âSheâll panic.â
ââŠor we knock her out,â Krystal finished quietly.
Bonesâ stomach rolled. âI canât do that.â
Sillexa didnât look at her. âI donât want to either. But if she thrashes and screams, we draw walkers. If she refuses, the wound festers. And if infection sets inââ
She didnât finish the sentence.
From the back of the van, Paige shifted, letting out a small, pained whine in her sleep. It cut straight through Bones, sharp as glass.
Krystal rubbed at her face. âChrist. This is fucked.â
Sillexa nodded once. âEverything is.â
They sat there, hunched close, whispering like conspirators, weighing cruelty against survival. Outside, the world stayed eerily quiet, too quiet. Inside, the lamps hummed softly, illuminating the impossible choice looming over them.
Bones stared at her hands, still faintly sticky with sugar residue from the ring pop wrapper.
âI wonât let her think weâre hurting her because we donât care,â she said finally, voice shaking. âIf we do this⊠she needs to know itâs because we love her.â
Sillexa looked at her then, really looked at her, and nodded. âYeah,â she said softly. âI know.â
In the back, Paige whimpered again, half-awake now, eyes fluttering open, glassy and scared, already sensing, somehow, that something else painful was coming.
They stood there in the low yellow wash of the camping lamps like a tribunal no one wanted to convene.
Paige shifted again in the back, a soft, broken sound slipping from her throat as she curled tighter into the blankets. Bonesâ eyes flicked toward her instinctively, chest tightening so hard it almost hurt to breathe.
Sillexa broke the silence first.
âWe vote,â she said quietly. Not cold, never cold, but controlled in that way she got when the weight of responsibility pressed too hard on her ribs. âBecause if we donât decide now, weâre going to freeze. And freezing gets people killed.â
Krystal let out a humourless laugh. âChrist. A vote on how to assault our friend. Love that for us.â
Bones rubbed her face with both hands. âI hate this. I hate all of this.â
Sillexa nodded once. âSame. But we donât get to opt out.â
She held up two fingers.
âOne: we restrain her. Hold her down long enough to clean the wound properly.â
Bones flinched visibly.
âTwo,â Sillexa continued, voice roughening, âwe knock her out. One hit. As controlled as possible.â
Krystal swore softly under her breath. âThat sounds like something that goes wrong really fast.â
âExactly,â Sillexa said. âHead trauma is a gamble. We donât know how hard is too hard. We donât know how sheâll react. And if we fuck it upââ
Bones shook her head, eyes wet. âI canât be the one to hit her. I wonât.â
âNo oneâs saying you have to,â Sillexa replied gently.
Krystal folded her arms, jaw tight. âHolding her down is going to be loud. Sheâs strong. She panics, she screamsâwe light ourselves up like a flare.â
Bones swallowed. âBut at least she wakes up knowing we didnât knock her unconscious.â
Sillexa watched Paige for a long moment before speaking again. âShe already feels out of control. If she wakes up with a head injury she doesnât remember⊠that might break something we canât fix.â
The word break hung there, ugly and heavy.
Krystal sighed and scrubbed at her eyes. âFuck. Okay. My voteâs restraining her. Itâs awful, but itâs honest.â
Bones nodded immediately, even though her hands were shaking. âSame. IâI want to be with her when it happens. I want her to hear my voice.â
Sillexa closed her eyes briefly, then nodded. âAlright. Thatâs three.â
No one celebrated.
âNow,â Sillexa said, straightening, shifting into logistics because if she didnât she might crumble, âwe do this clean. We do this once tonight, properly, and then maintenance every night after.â
Krystal leaned forward, listening closely.
âMeds,â Sillexa continued. âPainkillers first. As much as we can safely give her. We wait for them to kick in before we touch the wound.â
Bones nodded. âIâll give them to her. She trusts me.â
âI know,â Sillexa said softly.
âKrystal,â Sillexa went on, âyou handle antiseptic. Youâve got the steadiest hands.â
Krystal grimaced. âLucky me.â
âIâll flush the wound,â Sillexa said. âBandage it. Tight enough to protect, loose enough not to cut circulation.â
Bonesâ throat worked. âAnd me?â
Sillexa looked at her. âYou talk to her. You hold her shoulders. You keep her here.â She tapped her own temple. âNot in the pain.â
Bones nodded, jaw clenched hard enough it ached.
âAnd restraint?â Krystal asked quietly.
Sillexa exhaled slowly. âMe and you. Legs and hips. We donât pin her chest. Ever. If she can breathe, she can screamâbut weâll manage that risk.â
Krystal nodded, pale but resolute.
âAnd after?â Bones asked. âTomorrow. The night after that.â
Sillexaâs voice softened again. âEvery night, we check for heat, swelling, smell. We clean it again if we have to. If infection startsâred streaking, feverâwe adjust. More meds. More rest. No runs for Paige. None.â
Bones almost laughed at that, sharp and broken. âSheâs gonna hate that.â
âI know,â Sillexa said. âShe can hate me later. She just has to live long enough to do it.â
From the back of the van came a small, sleepy sound.
âBones?â Paige murmured, voice thin and frightened. âWhy are you whispering?â
Bonesâ heart cracked straight down the middle.
She stood immediately, moving back to the mattress, sinking down beside Paige and brushing damp hair from her face. Paigeâs eyes were glossy, unfocused, searching.
âIâm here,â Bones said softly. âWeâre just figuring things out, okay?â
Bones leaned down and pressed her forehead to Paigeâs. âI know. I know, baby.â
Behind her, Sillexa and Krystal exchanged a look, grim, resolute, aching with the knowledge that love, now, meant doing harm with careful hands.
They waited just long enough for the pills to blur the edges of her panic without dulling the pain nearly enough.
Paigeâs eyes had gone heavy-lidded, unfocused, pupils blown wide. Her body sagged against Bones like she was made of wet sand, breath coming in shallow, uneven pulls. Every so often a tremor ran through her, like her nervous system couldnât decide whether to fight or flee.
âPaige,â Bones murmured softly. âBaby. Can you hear me?â
Paige nodded vaguely, then frowned, confusion knitting her brows. âWhyâre you all⊠standing like that,â she mumbled. Suspicion crept into her voice, thick and slow. âWhatâre you doing.â
Bonesâ heart thudded painfully. âWeâre justâ weâre gonna clean it. Then itâs done. I promise.â
Paigeâs eyes sharpened instantly. âNo.â
She tried to sit up. Pain lanced through her leg and she cried out, a thin, cracked sound, hands scrabbling uselessly at the blankets.
âNo, no, noâ I said noââ
Bones moved without thinking, easing Paige down, hands firming on her wrists. Paige struggled immediately, weak but furious, teeth clenched hard enough her jaw trembled.
âDonât touch me,â Paige snarled, slurring. âDonât you dare.â
âIâm sorry,â Bones whispered, voice already breaking. âIâm so sorry.â
Paige realised then. Her eyes flicked to Sillexa. To Krystal. To the antiseptic bottle in Krystalâs shaking hands.
Realisation hit like a second injury.
âYou saidââ Paige gasped. âYou said you wouldnât.â
Bones climbed onto the mattress, straddling Paigeâs hips to keep her from twisting, pinning her wrists above her head. Paige thrashed, strength flaring wildly despite the drugs.
âYouâre lying,â Paige spat. âYouâre all fucking lyingââ
Bones pressed a trembling hand over Paigeâs mouth just as the scream tore loose.
Bones cried out but didnât pull away. Tears streamed freely now, soaking Paigeâs hair.
At the foot of the mattress, Sillexa pinned Paigeâs legs with her full weight. Paige bucked violently, rage and panic ripping through her, vision tunnelling at the edges.
Krystal peeled the sock away.
The sight alone nearly dropped Paige.
She gagged around Bonesâ hand, eyes rolling back slightly, breath hitching as shock surged. Her skin had gone clammy, colour draining from her face in seconds.
âPaige,â Sillexa said sharply. âStay with us. Paige.â
Krystal poured the antiseptic.
The pain was catastrophic.
Paige convulsed, back arching violently, a sound ripping out of her that barely qualified as a scream, raw, animal, broken halfway through by the sudden loss of air. Her body locked up, muscles seizing as the pain overwhelmed her nervous system completely.
Then she went limp.
âFuckââ Krystal choked. âSheâsââ
Bones ripped her hand away from Paigeâs mouth, catching her face desperately. âPaigeâ Paigeâ look at meââ
Paigeâs eyes fluttered wildly, unfocused, breath shallow and erratic. For one awful second Bones thought sheâd lost her.
Then Paige sucked in a harsh, shuddering breath and screamed again, hoarse, furious, betrayed.
Sillexa worked fast, hands slick with blood and antiseptic, voice clipped and urgent as she flushed and dressed the wound. Paige sobbed and raged beneath them, tears streaming sideways into her hair, whole body shaking violently.
âI hate you,â Paige screamed, voice shredding itself raw. âI hate youâ get off meââ
Bones bent down instinctively, pressing a desperate kiss to Paigeâs forehead the moment it was over.
Paige turned her head sharply away.
âDonât,â she snapped weakly. âDonât fucking touch me.â
Bones froze.
âI love you,â Bones whispered, shattered.
Paige laughed, a broken, hysterical sound that cut deeper than any scream. âNo you donât,â she said viciously. âYou donât do that to people you love.â
Bones recoiled like sheâd been struck.
âYouâre a liar,â Paige went on, tears still pouring, voice trembling with rage. âYou all are. You pinned me down. You hurt me. You didnât listen.â
She tried to sit up again, swayed violently, then slumped back, vision swimming as the delayed shock hit fully. Her skin was pale as paper now, lips trembling uncontrollably.
Sillexa caught her shoulders just in time. âPaigeâ donât move.â
Paigeâs eyes fluttered. âIâm gonna be sick,â she murmured faintly. âIâ I canâtââ
Her head lolled sideways against the mattress, consciousness slipping in and out as her body finally surrendered to pain and exhaustion.
Bones hovered helplessly beside her, hands shaking, face wrecked with guilt.
Paige slept like the dead.
Not the restless, twitching kind of sleep sheâd had since the world ended, but the heavy, drugged, bottomless kind. The kind where hours slid past unnoticed, where the body shut everything down because it simply couldnât take any more.
She didnât wake for the night. Didnât wake for the morning. Didnât wake when the van started and stopped, started and stopped again.
Her breathing stayed shallow but steady, lips parted, lashes resting bruised-dark against her cheeks. Every so often she whimpered in her sleep, a soft, wounded sound, fingers twitching like she was still trying to pull away from hands that werenât there anymore.
Bones barely left her side.
Sillexa drove. Krystal navigated. They stopped whenever they could, quiet cul-de-sacs, half-abandoned estates, shuttered corner shops with doors already broken in. They moved fast, efficient, grim. Two runs before noon. Another before dusk.
Bones didnât go on the runs. She sat in the back of the van, back against the wall, one hand always resting lightly on Paigeâs shoulder or arm or hair, grounding herself by the warmth of her, by the undeniable proof that Paige was still alive.
âShe hasnât woken up once,â Bones murmured quietly at one point.
Sillexa glanced back, eyes tired but steady. âShe needed it.â
Bones nodded, though her stomach churned with dread. Because needing it didnât mean forgiving them. And sleep didnât erase memory.
The sun was already dipping again when it happened.
They were late getting back, too late. The van screeched to a halt, engine whining as Sillexa yanked the handbrake. Doors slammed. Voices hissed sharply.
âMoveâ moveâ moveââ
The van rocked as they piled in, breath ragged, panic snapping at their heels. Something thudded against the side panel. A low, hungry moan rose too close for comfort.
Inside, the sudden noise shattered the quiet like glass. Paige woke with a violent gasp.
Her eyes flew open, wild and unfocused, heart slamming so hard it hurt. For a split second she didnât know where she was, only that she was trapped, that her leg was on fire, that the air smelled like metal and antiseptic and fear.
âWhatâ whatâs happeningââ she croaked.
Bones was there instantly, leaning over her. âHeyâ hey, itâs okayââ
Paige recoiled.
âDonât,â she snapped hoarsely, dragging herself backward despite the pain. The movement sent a sharp jolt up her injured leg and she cried out, breath hitching, hand clawing at the mattress.
Bones froze, hands hovering uselessly in the air.
âWe had to run,â Krystal said breathlessly from the front. âSmall horde. Nothing huge. We lost them.â
Paige barely heard her.
Her gaze locked onto Bones, sharp, furious, still burning with the same betrayal as before. Sleep hadnât softened it. If anything, it had distilled it.
âYouâre loud,â Paige said bitterly. âCouldnât even let me sleep.â
Bones swallowed. âIâm sorry.â
Paige laughed weakly. âThatâs your favourite word, isnât it.â
She shifted again, grimacing, pulling the blanket tighter around her leg like it might protect her from what was coming next. Because she knew. She knew as surely as she knew her own name.
Her eyes flicked to the medical supplies stacked neatly by the wall.
âNo,â she said immediately. âNo. Donât even look at me like that.â
Bones moved closer on instinct. âPaige, we just need to check itââ
Paige slapped her hand away, weak but furious. âI said donât touch me.â
Silence slammed down inside the van.
Sillexa didnât turn around, but her shoulders tensed.
Paigeâs chest rose and fell too fast, eyes bright and wet, jaw clenched so hard it trembled. âYouâre not doing it again,â she said. âI wonât let you.â
Bonesâ voice broke. âIt needs cleaning. Just checkingââ
âI donât care,â Paige snapped. âI donât care if it rots. I donât care if I lose the foot. Youâre not pinning me down again.â
Her breath stuttered, anger tipping into something raw and frightened. âI wonât survive that twice.â
Bones sank back on her heels, devastated.
âIâll stay back,â Paige added bitterly. âTie me to the van or something. You lot can keep playing hero.â
Krystal flinched at that, guilt flashing across her face. âPaigeââ
âShut up,â Paige hissed.
The van was quiet except for the distant sounds of the world ending outside, groans, scraping footsteps, the echo of something being knocked over far away.
Bones wiped at her face, hands shaking.
Paige turned her head away, staring at the wall, jaw tight. Her body was still wrecked, pale, hollowed, exhausted, but the fire in her hadnât dimmed at all.
She didnât eat. That was how Bones finally broke.
At first it was easy to pretend it wasnât deliberate. Paige was exhausted. She was in pain. Her stomach had been through shock and drugs and fear all at once. Bones set the food beside her anyway, soft things, easy things. A protein bar broken into pieces. Soup warmed carefully on the little burner and poured into a chipped mug.
âJust a bit,â Bones said gently. âYou donât have to finish it.â
Paige didnât even look.
Hours passed. The van rolled on. The sky outside shifted from grey to gold to bruised violet again. Paige drank water when Sillexa handed it to her, swallowed pills with a flat, empty compliance, but food stayed untouched.
Bones tried again. And again.
âPaige,â she murmured, crouched by the mattress. âPlease. Just one bite.â
Paige finally turned her head, eyes dull with anger and exhaustion. âIâm not hungry.â
Bones nodded too quickly. âOkay. Thatâs okay. Later then.â
Later never came.
By nightfall, Paigeâs hands were shaking, not just from pain, but from emptiness. Her skin looked sallow, eyes too bright in her face. She curled tighter into the blankets, jaw clenched stubbornly, as if hunger were something she could punish herself with.
Bones watched it happen like a slow-motion car crash.
She tried to stay calm. She tried to be patient. She tried to tell herself Paige needed control over something.
But when Paige pushed the mug away for the third time, spilling soup onto the floor of the van, something in Bones finally gave way.
She sank down hard beside the mattress, the sound half a sob already tearing out of her chest.
âWhy wonât you eat?â Bones choked.
Paige stiffened immediately. âI said Iâm notââ
âYouâre going to die,â Bones cried suddenly, loudly, the words ripping out of her without permission. âIf you donât eat, if you donât let us help you, youâre going to fucking die.â
Paige stared at her, shocked into stillness. Bones didnât stop. She couldnât.
Her hands shook violently as she pressed them into her own hair, tears spilling freely now, ugly and unstoppable. âI canât do this,â she sobbed. âI canât watch you starve yourself because youâre mad at me.â
âIâm not mad,â Paige snapped weakly. âIâmââ
Bones collapsed forward, forehead pressing into Paigeâs shoulder despite the way Paige tensed at the contact.
âIâm scared,â Bones wailed. âIâm so fucking scared.â
Her voice broke completely then, words tumbling out in gasps and sobs. âWeâre supposed to survive this. You and me. Together. That was the plan.â
Paigeâs anger faltered, confusion flickering across her face.
Bones clutched at the blankets, knuckles white. âWe were supposed to get out of the city. Find somewhere quiet. A small house. Somewhere boring. Somewhere safe.â
She laughed hysterically through her tears. âI was going to ask you to move in. I already had space cleared. I bought you a toothbrush, Paige. I picked one youâd like.â
Paigeâs breath hitched.
Bones shook her head, crying harder. âI was going to do it properly. Rose petals. That stupid park with the ducks you pretend you hate. I had it all planned.â
Her chest heaved. âWe were going to grow old. Or as old as anyone can now. We were going to get married. Or at leastâ at least try.â
She looked up then, eyes red and wrecked. âIf you donât let us help you, there is no Bones and Paige surviving. Thereâs no house. Thereâs no us.â
Paige stared at her, stunned, fury dissolving into something raw and shaken.
Bones pressed her face into Paigeâs chest and sobbed, shoulders shaking violently. âPlease,â she begged. âPlease donât leave me like this. Not after everything.â
For a long moment, Paige didnât move.
Then, slowly, carefully, she lifted her hand and rested it on Bonesâ back. The touch was hesitant, conflicted, but real.
âBones,â Paige whispered hoarsely. âYou canât say things like that.â
Bones shook her head against her, tears soaking into Paigeâs shirt. âI canât lose you.â
Paige closed her eyes, throat tight, anger and fear and love crashing into each other so hard it left her dizzy.
From that point on, everything narrowed down to Paige.
The road stopped being about distance or destinations or âmaybe this place will be better.â It became a moving sickroom on wheels, a fragile bubble they dragged through the end of the world by sheer stubbornness.
They drove in shifts.
Bones took first watch most nights, hands locked tight on the steering wheel, jaw aching from how hard she clenched it. She refused to sleep deeply anymore, just dozed in sharp, shallow pieces when Krystal or Sillexa took over. Every bump in the road made her flinch, imagining Paigeâs foot jolting, reopening, bleeding again.
Paige stayed in the back, propped up with blankets and pillows, pale and quiet in a way that scared everyone more than her anger ever had. They checked her constantly. Too warm? Too cold? Still lucid? Still herself?
Sillexa kept the meds on a strict schedule, alarms whispered under her breath. Krystal handled food, tiny portions, coaxed gently, never forced. Soup spooned slowly. Crackers softened with water. Paige ate eventually, grudgingly, eyes wet with humiliation and pain, but she ate.
Bones never left her side for long.
She cleaned Paigeâs face with a damp cloth. Held water to her lips. Sat with Paigeâs head heavy against her chest while the van rattled over cracked asphalt and debris. Paige would drift in and out, sometimes mumbling, sometimes crying softly without really waking.
And then there was the horde.
They saw it too late.
The road curved through what must have once been a busy strip, abandoned cars clogging lanes, storefronts smashed open, bodies slumped in unnatural stillness that should have been a warning. Sillexa slowed instinctively, already swearing under her breath.
One staggered into the road. Then five. Then dozens. The sound came next, wet feet dragging, broken moans, the awful chorus of hunger and rot.
âShit,â Krystal breathed. âThatâs a lot.â
Sillexa punched the accelerator.
The van surged forward, slamming into the first walker with a sickening thud. Paige screamed from the back, the sound sharp and terrified, instantly setting Bonesâ nerves on fire.
âIâve got her,â Bones said, abandoning the passenger seat to scramble back, bracing Paige as the van swerved violently. âIâve got you, Iâve got youââ
The windshield cracked as something heavy slammed against it. Hands slapped wetly against the glass. Faces smeared across it, teeth snapping inches away.
They couldnât turn around. They couldnât stop.
The road ahead narrowed, bodies pressing in from both sides now, the van forced to slow whether they wanted to or not. Walkers clawed at the doors, fingers slipping, nails screeching against metal.
Sillexa swore loudly, eyes wild. âIf we stallââ
âWe donât stall,â Krystal snapped back, gripping the dashboard. âWe do not stall.â
Bones curled around Paige protectively, one hand clamped over Paigeâs mouth to muffle her sobs, the other cradling her head against her chest. Paige shook violently, tears streaming, pain and terror tangling together until she could barely breathe.
âI know,â Bones whispered desperately into her hair. âI know, baby. Justâjust stay with me. Look at me. Look at me.â
The van lurched as it ran over something too big to ignore.
Paige gagged. Bones felt it in her bones, the awful give, the way the tires slid slick for half a second.
The horde surged closer, bodies pressing so tight they nearly boxed the van in completely.
Then, mercifully, the road opened.
Sillexa slammed the accelerator again, engine screaming in protest, and the van burst free, leaving grasping hands and broken bodies tumbling behind them. The sounds faded slowly, replaced by the roar of blood in their ears and Paigeâs ragged breathing.
No one spoke for a long time.
Bones stayed wrapped around Paige, rocking her gently as the van sped on, hands shaking too badly to let go. Paige clung back weakly, face buried in Bonesâ shirt, whispering fractured apologies and terrified nonsense.
The first sign that they werenât alone anymore wasnât gunfire or shouting or anything dramatic like that. It was laughter.
Real laughter, unfiltered, unpanicked, drifting across the road like it belonged there.
Sillexa slowed the van immediately, heart slamming against her ribs. Everyone froze. Bonesâ hand instinctively went to the gun at her side, while her other arm tightened around Paige, who stirred weakly against her chest.
They crept forward just enough to see them.
Five people. Relaxed, absurdly so. Two leaning against a barricaded pickup, one perched on the hood like it was a bar stool. Someone was mid-gesture, clearly telling a story far too long for the apocalypse. They were armed, yes, but not twitchy. Not desperate. They looked⊠settled.
Human.
âOkay,â Krystal muttered. âThatâs suspicious as fuck.â
Tayce spotted the van first.
She was tall, long-limbed, confident in the way she moved, rifle slung loose over her shoulder like an accessory rather than a lifeline. She grinned, wide and easy, and lifted both hands exaggeratedly into the air.
âHey!â she called. âBefore anyone panicsâweâre friendly. Genuinely. Promise. Scoutâs honor. I was never a scout but still.â
Bones snorted despite herself. Paige gave a weak huff of laughter, then winced.
Dakota stepped forward next, slower, careful. Soft voice. Calm eyes. She had that rare kind of presence that made everything quiet down around her without trying.
âYou look exhausted,â she said gently, gaze flicking to Paige in the back. âAnd hurt. We donât want trouble. We just⊠donât like seeing people die on the road if we can help it.â
Kyran waved enthusiastically from behind her, nearly tripping over a crate. âAlso weâre very funny company. Like, incredibly unserious. Ten out of ten morale boost.â
âOh my god, stop talking,â Cheryl snapped instantly, hands on her hips. âYou sound like an idiot.â
Then she leaned closer, squinting at the van. âButâhi. You look awful. Not in a judgmental way. In a âyou should sit down and drink something immediatelyâ way.â
That did it.
Something in Sillexaâs chest cracked, not broke, just⊠shifted. She put the van in park but didnât turn it off.
âWeâre not staying,â Sillexa said flatly through the cracked window. âWe canât risk it.â
Tayce nodded immediately. No offense taken. âTotally fair. We wouldnât either. Listenâweâve got a secured town about five minutes east. Walls, lookouts, rotation shifts. Nothing fancy, but it works. Weâre on a supply run right now.â
Dakota glanced again at Paige, concern soft and real. âYou donât have to come in with us. You could park just outside the perimeter. One of us can walk you through the basics. If you hate it, you leave. No pressure.â
Silence stretched.
Bones felt Paigeâs fingers curl weakly into her shirt.
Sillexa exhaled slowly. âWeâll wait,â she said at last. âOutside. You send one person back. If anything feels offâweâre gone.â
Cheryl clapped her hands once. âAmazing. Love a conditional alliance. Adds spice.â
Kyran beamed. âIâll go! Iâm very trustworthy-looking.â
âNo,â Cheryl and Dakota said in unison.
Dakota smiled apologetically. âIâll come. Slowly. No weapons raised.â
When Dakota returned an hour later, the sun dipping low and the road still quiet, everything felt⊠possible in a way it hadnât for weeks.
The walls were real. Solid. Reinforced with scrap metal and cars and care. Lights flickered on as night crept in, not harsh, not blinding. Warm.
They parked where instructed, just outside the main gate.
No one rushed them. No one demanded anything.
For the first time in a long time, the van went still, and stayed that way.
Paige slept almost immediately, breathing deep and even for the first time since the injury. Bones didnât move, afraid that if she did, the moment would shatter.
Sillexa sat in the driverâs seat long after the engine cooled, staring at the walls ahead.
Krystal let out a shaky laugh. âI forgot what it felt like to⊠not be running.â
Morning arrived soft for once.
Not quiet, thereâs still the distant echo of metal, voices, the low thrum of generators behind the walls, but soft in the way it lands on them. Like it isnât trying to kill them immediately.
Bones woke first. She always did. Her body never quite learned how to rest properly after everything. Paige was still curled against her, warm and breathing, hair stuck to her cheek with sweat. Her ankle wrapped, elevated on a folded blanket, ugly even beneath the bandages. Bones couldnât look at it for long.
She pressed her forehead to Paigeâs temple instead and breathed.
The knock on the van was gentle. Deliberate. Three taps, spaced out like someone afraid of startling a horse.
Sillexa cracked the front door just enough to see.
Tayce stood there grinning, hair tied back messily, holding two battered flasks aloft like peace offerings. Dakota beside her, wrapped in a big sweater, arms full of folded cloths, clean, actually clean. Pale cotton. Towels. A spare hoodie.
âMorning,â Tayce says quietly. âWe brought coffee. Real coffee. And before you askâyes, itâs criminally weak. Weâre rationing joy.â
Dakota smiled softly past her. âWe didnât want to wake anyone if they were sleeping. But⊠the meeting wrapped up.â
That word, meeting, hit heavier than it should.
Sillexa opened the door fully this time.
They didnât crowd in. They didnât even step up without being waved closer. Everything about them screamed patience, said safety, said weâve learned how to do this without making people flinch.
Bones sat up carefully, Paige stirring with a small, unhappy sound.
ââŠcoffee?â Paige murmured, half-asleep, hopeful in a way that nearly ruined Bones on the spot.
Bones laughs under her breath. âYeah, baby. Coffee.â
Dakotaâs eyes flicked immediately to Paigeâs ankle, her expression shifting, not alarmed, not horrified. Just focused. Professional. Gentle.
âWeâve got a doctor,â she said quietly, like she didnât want to scare the luck away. âActual medical training. Not just YouTube and a prayer.â
Paige blinked more fully awake at that.
âA⊠doctor?â
Tayce nodded. âHer nameâs cherry. She was a nurse before all this. Kept most of the important stuff. Antibiotics, proper antiseptic, sutures. Sheâs been itching to have something real to do besides coughs and scraped knuckles.â
Bones felt her throat close.
Dakota continued, voice steady. âThe settlement had a town meeting last night. Everyone voted. Weâre shifting some people around, making space. By tonightâby sundownâwe can open the gates and bring you all inside.â
Sillexa stiffened slightly. âTonight?â
Dakota nodded. âWe donât like opening the gates in full daylight. Too visible. But if you send Paige up firstâinjured, slowâweâll open early. Get her straight to the clinic. The rest of you can follow right behind.â
There wasnât an inch of hesitation in her voice. No conditions hidden between words.
Paigeâs face crumpled in relief before she could stop it.
âOh my god,â she breathed. âBones. Bones, did you hear that? A bed. Likeâan actual bed.â
Bones was crying before she realised it. Silent tears, shoulders shaking, hand gripping Paigeâs shirt like sheâs afraid sheâll vanish if she lets go.
âA doctor,â Bones kept repeating, like the words might slip away. âThey have a doctor. Youâre gonna be okay. Youâre gonna be okay.â
Tayce looked away politely, giving them space, but she was smiling too, wide and genuine, like this was good for her as well.
Krystal climbed out of the front of the van, rubbing her eyes. âPlease tell me thatâs coffee coffee and not some weird sludge.â
âRude,â Tayce replied cheerfully, handing her a flask. âItâs premium apocalypse sludge.â
Sillexa listened. Watched. Catalogued everything like she always did, but for once, thereâs nothing wrong to find.
No red flags. No urgency. No pressure.
Just people trying to make room.
Dakota gently set the folded clothes down near Paige. âClean,â she said. âWashed last night. Take your time.â
Paige touched the fabric like it might dissolve. Her fingers trembling.
âThank you,â she whispered, eyes shining. âThank you so much.â
Dakotaâs smile was warm. Certain. âWeâve got you.â
And for the first time since the world ended, everyone believed it.
They spent the morning in a strange, fragile calm. Paige drank her coffee slowly, making a face at how bad it is, laughing anyway. Bones helped her change into clean clothes, hands shaking with care. Sillexa and Krystal discussed logistics with Tayce, who goes where, who carries what, how theyâll move at sundown.
Everything fit. Everything would be fine by sundown. That terrible inâbetween hour where the light goes thin and yellow, where everything looks wrong around the edges. Shadows stretch too long. Shapes blur.
Sillexa clocked it immediately, filed it under things I should have thought about, but didnât say anything, because Paige was smiling.
Paige smiling.
Bundled in too many layers, limping carefully, one arm slung over Bonesâ shoulders. Every step dragging. Her injured foot refused lift properly anymore; it skimmed, caught, stuttered. Her body compensated badly, hips tilted, spine tight, movements jerky and uneven. She breathed through her teeth, sweat shining at her hairline.
Sillexa walked a few paces ahead, gun lowered but ready, eyes flicking between rooftops and windows. Krystal brought up the rear, muttering under her breath, nerves shot but holding.
The walls loomed closer. You could see people now. Figures on the lookout towers. Silhouettes against the sky. Rifles braced. Heads turning.
Sillexa lifted her hand instinctively, about to wave, about to shout.
âFriendly! Weâreââ
Paige stumbled.
Just a little.
Her foot caught on a crack in the road, and her body lurched forward with that awful, broken rhythm Sillexa hasnât really looked at yet. Paige didnât cry out. She just made a small, startled sound and dragged herself upright again, shoulders hunched, head dipping.
From a distance.
From a distance, she looked wrong.
Her gait wrong. Her posture wrong. The way her arm jerked as she steadied herself was all wrong. Her head tilted at an odd angle as she squinted toward the walls, trying to see faces, trying to smile through pain.
Sillexaâs stomach drops.
âNo,â she breathes, barely audible. âNo, no, noââ
A voice rings out from the wall. Sharp. Panicked.
âMovement. Left side. Limping.â
Another voice overlaps it. Louder. Younger. âJesusâsheâs fast.â
Sillexa spins, throws both hands up now, screaming.
âSheâs injured! Sheâsââ
The gunshot cracks the air.
Itâs deafening. Final.
Paige jerked like sheâd been yanked by a wire.
The bullet hit her high in the chest, just off-center. The impact was brutal, thereâs a wet, meaty sound, like something bursting. Blood sprays instantly, a dark red fan against the pavement.
Bones feelt it before she understood it.
Paigeâs weight vanished.
Slipping out of Bonesâ grip completely, body folding in on itself as her legs give out. She hit the ground hard, shoulder first, then rolled, blood smearing beneath her, soaking into her clothes in seconds.
Another shot fired. Then another.
Someone was shouting cease fire but it came too late, swallowed by the ringing in everyoneâs ears.
Paigeâs body jerked again, a bullet tearing through her side this time. The sound is obscene. Her back arched, mouth open in a silent, stunned gasp. Blood bubbled at her lips, thick and bright.
âPAIGEââ
Bones screamed her name like it might pull her back together.
She dropped to her knees beside her, hands shaking, hovering uselessly over the spreading mess. There was so much blood. Too much. It poured from Paigeâs chest, her side, pooling beneath her head, sticky and dark and real.
Paigeâs eyes were wide. Still green. Still there.
She looked at Bones, confusion swimming through the pain, like she couldnât quite understand why she was on the ground. Her mouth moved. A sound came out, wet, broken, barely human.
Her chest stuttered instead of rising. Every inhale making a horrible, rattling noise, like her lungs are filling with liquid. Blood spilling from the corner of her mouth, dribbling down her chin.
Sillexa stood frozen a few feet away. She canât move.
She canât see anything except the way Paigeâs foot is twisted beneath her, the injured one, still dragging, still wrong, still the thing Sillexa didnât think about hard enough.
I should have seen it.
I should have said something.
I should have.
Krystal dropped beside Bones, hands over her mouth, gagging. âOh my god. Oh my god. No, no, noââ
Paigeâs fingers twitched weakly against the concrete.
Bones grabbed them immediately, pressed them to her chest, sobbing openly now. âStay with me. Please. Please, Paige. We were so close. We were right there.â
Paigeâs gaze flicked toward the walls.
Toward the people screaming now. Toward the open gates starting to move. Toward safety she would never reach.
Her eyes filled with tears.
She made a sound, small, broken, and then her body fell slack.
Head lolling to the side.
The light left her eyes all at once, like someone flipped a switch.
Bones kept talking. She kept begging.
She kept shaking Paigeâs shoulders, smearing herself with blood, refusing to understand why Paige wasnât answering anymore.
Sillexa finally dropped to her knees.
The world roared back in all at once, shouting from the walls, boots pounding, someone yelling medic even though itâs already far, far too late.
Paige was still. Just a body now. Broken. Bloody. Gone.
And none of them could quite believe how fast it happened.
A/N: this took so long but I adore it. Writing horror is honestly one of my favourite things!! If people like this I will bring back my more horror based fics because this was so fun to write. I do wanna apologise now to anyone whose fave gets killed off⊠just know I killed one of my favourite people really early on. So we are alllll suffering. I really hope someone enjoys this and uhhhh if not idk Iâll go cry? Oh also there is a second part purely because it was too long for one post and I hit the maximum on tumblr
Title: bang bang (my baby shot me down) pt1
Pairing: threebones
Warnings: MDNI!!!! graphic depictions of violence and gore, zombie attacks, biting, dismemberment, exposed organs, blood, major character death, graphic descriptions of dying, panic, physical injury, zombie apocalypse, mass death, and societal collapse, intense psychological distress, panic attacks, hyperventilation, dissociation, trauma responses, grief, survivorâs guilt, watching loved ones die, body horror. Vomiting/retching, near death experiences, fear, desperation, and sustained high-tension scenes, infection, illness, and implied impending death. If you need to avoid any of these topics, please read with care!!!
Guys this is an extremely heavy one please read with caution.
ââ-
The sound of flesh tearing never got easier.
It split the air with a wet, intimate violence that rang straight through Paigeâs teeth and lodged behind her eyes. Too close. Always too close. Her brain recoiled from it on instinct, scrambling for some other explanation, stage blood, prop knife, sound design too loud⊠anything except what it was.
Reality did not care.
Something slammed into her from the side, hard enough to steal the ground out from under her feet. Her shoulder hit concrete with a crack that sent pain lightning-fast down her arm. The world tilted, lights smearing into long, nauseating streaks. Her ears rang, high and shrill, and for one horrifying second she couldnât hear anything else, not her own scream, not her name, not the thing on top of her.
Then weight crushed her chest.
The walker loomed over her, knees bracketing her hips, hands clawing clumsily at her jacket like it couldnât quite remember what hands were for. Its face hung inches from hers. Close enough that she could see the pores, the split skin at the corners of its mouth, the way one eye tracked her while the other lagged a fraction behind.
Not blind enough. Not gone enough.
Paige gasped, panic shredding any coherent thought. Her knife was still in her hand, good, thank God. But her fingers had gone numb, useless, refusing to close properly. She stabbed wildly upward and felt nothing but air.
The walker shrieked, a raw, furious sound that vibrated straight through her ribs.
âPaige!â
Sillexaâs voice cut through the ringing, sharp with fear rather than command, and that, somehow, that scared Paige more than the thing trying to kill her.
The gun went off with a crack so loud it felt like the station itself flinched.
The walkerâs head snapped sideways. Something dark sprayed the tiles behind them in a grotesque arc. Its body went slack instantly, all momentum gone, collapsing forward onto Paige in a dead, awful heap.
Paige screamed then, really screamed, hands scrabbling uselessly at its jacket, chest heaving as the smell hit her all at once. Rot, copper, gunpowder. Her stomach revolted.
âFuckâfuckâPaige, Iâve got itââ
Hands grabbed the walker by the collar and yanked hard. The weight slid off her, dragging across her legs before hitting the ground with a dull thud. Paige rolled onto her side, coughing violently, gagging as she sucked in air that felt too thin to be real.
Sillexa dropped to her knees in front of her immediately, gun clattering forgotten onto the concrete. Her hands hovered, unsure, shoulders, face, throat, before settling on Paigeâs cheeks, firm and grounding.
âHey. Hey, look at me,â she said, voice shaking despite her best effort to keep it steady. âPaige. Paige, baby, look at me.â
Paige forced her eyes up.
Sillexaâs face was pale beneath the grime, eyes blown wide and glassy with adrenaline. There was blood on her knuckles. Paigeâs? No, no, and her breathing was just a little too fast, like sheâd sprinted a mile instead of fired a single shot.
âYou bit?â Sillexa asked, words tumbling over each other now. âTell me right now. I swear to God, Paige, if youâre bittenââ
âNo,â Paige croaked. Her throat burned. âNo, IâmâLex, Iâm notââ
Sillexaâs hands tightened reflexively, fingers digging in like she was afraid Paige might disappear if she let go. Relief hit her hard enough that her shoulders sagged.
âOkay,â she said, nodding too quickly. âOkay. Thatâs good. Thatâsâfuck, okay.â
Sminty skidded to a stop beside them, eyes enormous, knife clutched in both hands like a lifeline.
âOh my God,â she breathed. âOh my God. I thoughtâPaige, you scared the absolute shit out of me. Iâm going to age like ten years every time you do that.â
Paige huffed out something that might have been a laugh if it didnât turn into another cough halfway through. Her whole body shook now, the adrenaline bleeding out of her in ugly, uneven waves.
Sillexa noticed immediately.
âOkay, sit,â she said, gentler now, guiding Paige until her back hit the wall. She crouched in front of her, blocking out the corridor with her body like she could shield her from everything else. âJust sit for a second. Breathe.â
Paige pressed her head back against the cool tile and closed her eyes, focusing on the familiar cadence of Sillexaâs voice. In. Out. Her heart still hammered like it was trying to break free, but it was slowing.
She opened her eyes again and looked past Sillexaâs shoulder.
The walker lay sprawled on the platform, one arm bent at a wrong angle, its head⊠ruined. It wore a Transport for London jacket, orange striping dulled by grime. A name badge still clung to the chest, smeared but legible.
Martin.
Paige swallowed hard.
A month ago, she would have been annoyed at the Tube delays. A month ago, this man might have told her to mind the gap with bored professionalism. A month ago, Bones might have texted her something dry and cutting about London transport being the real apocalypse.
Her chest ached with the effort of not thinking about that.
Sillexa followed her gaze and winced. âDonât,â she said softly. âDonât do that to yourself.â
Paigeâs voice came out thin. âHe was just⊠working.â
She scrubbed a hand over her face, smearing dirt and sweat together. When she looked back at Paige, her eyes were bright again, not fierce this time, but wet.
âI almost shot you,â she admitted quietly.
Paige blinked.
âI lined it up and everything,â Sillexa went on, forcing a crooked smile that didnât quite land. âAnd then your head moved and I thought, âCool. This is it. Iâm going to survive the apocalypse and then accidentally murder my best friend in a Tube station.ââ
Paige let out a breathy laugh before she could stop herself. It shook through her ribs, half-hysterical.
âYeah,â she said hoarsely. âThat wouldâve been very on brand for us.â
Sminty snorted despite herself. âHonestly? Iâd haunt you both out of pure spite.â
Sillexa reached out and bumped Paigeâs knee gently with her own, grounding again. âYou hesitated,â she said, not accusing, just stating it. âYou froze.â
Paige looked down at her hands. They were still shaking.
âI keep thinking itâs going to stop,â she admitted. âThat someoneâs going to call it. Likeââokay, everyone, jokeâs over.ââ
Sillexa exhaled slowly. âYeah. Same.â
That surprised Paige enough that she looked up again.
Sillexa shrugged, a little helpless. âI just⊠panic faster, I think. Makes me look like I know what Iâm doing.â
Paige reached out without thinking and squeezed her hand. Sillexa squeezed back immediately, too tight, like sheâd been waiting for it.
âOkay,â Sminty said, peering down the corridor. âAs heartwarming as this is, I am hearing noises I would prefer not to hear while weâre having a feelings circle.â
As if summoned, something groaned deep in the tunnels, low and searching.
Sillexa grimaced. âRight. Vulnerability later. We move now.â
She stood, offering Paige a hand. Paige took it, letting herself be pulled up, legs still a little unsteady but functional.
They moved together, closer now, Paige unconsciously keeping pace with Sillexaâs shoulder. The maintenance corridor felt narrower than before, the walls closing in with every step. The lights flickered overhead, buzzing faintly, like they were deciding whether or not to give up entirely.
Paige listened as they walked, to the scuff of boots, the soft jingle of gear, the way Sminty hummed under her breath when she was nervous. Her own breathing sounded too loud in her ears.
She thought of Bones again, uninvited and relentless.
Bones would have hated this place. Would have complained about the acoustics. Would have stood just a little too close, pretending it meant nothing.
Paige pressed her lips together hard.
Sillexa glanced sideways at her, reading the shift instantly. âWeâll find her,â she said, gentle but firm. âOr weâll find out what happened. Either way.â
Paige nodded, even though hope felt like something thin and dangerous.
They reached the stairs leading back up toward the street. Sunlight filtered down weakly from above, dust motes drifting lazily in the air like everything wasnât on fire.
For a second, just a second, it almost felt like the world was holding its breath with them.
Then something screamed again, closer this time.
Sillexa swore. Sminty tightened her grip on her knife.
Paige squared her shoulders, knife firm in her hand now. Her hands still trembled, but she lifted them anyway.
They broke into the daylight like a wound reopening.
The stairs spat them out onto the street in a rush of stale air and sudden, brutal brightness. Paige barely had time to register the sky, washed-out blue, wrong in its normalcy, before the noise hit her. Not one sound but dozens, layered and overlapping; shouts, screams, the wet-throated moans she was learning to recognize too quickly, the distant crack of something collapsing under its own weight.
The city was moving.
Not traffic. Not people. Bodies.
Hordes clogged the street from end to end, spilling out of side roads and alleyways like rot spreading through fruit. Some staggered. Some ran. Some moved with a horrifying, lurching urgency that made Paigeâs stomach drop straight through the pavement.
âDonât stop,â Sillexa said immediately, voice sharp with panic now, no room left for sarcasm. Her hand closed around Paigeâs wrist, fingers iron-tight. âRun. Now.â
They ran.
Paigeâs legs burned almost instantly, lungs seizing as she forced air into them. Her dancerâs body knew how to move, how to push, how to endure, but this was wrong, all wrong. This wasnât choreography or rehearsal or adrenaline dressed up as art. This was terror, pure and unfiltered, pounding through her veins.
The sound followed them.
Footsteps, too many to count. Screams that cut off abruptly. The snarling chorus of the dead swelling as they noticed movement, sound, life.
Paige risked a glance over her shoulder and immediately regretted it.
They were coming.
A mass of bodies surged toward them, drawn by noise and motion, faces twisted into expressions that might once have been hunger or anger or fear. Some still wore office clothes. High-vis vests. A woman in heels stumbled and went down, and the crowd swallowed her whole.
Paige stumbled too, catching on uneven pavement, a sob tearing out of her before she could stop it.
Sillexa yanked her upright with a grunt. âEyes forward,â she snapped, voice breaking on the last word. âPlease, Paigeâeyes forward.â
A shopfront loomed ahead, glass already shattered, metal shutter half-cranked open.
âThere!â Sminty yelled. âThere, thereââ
They barreled toward it, heartbeats roaring louder than the world. Paige vaulted over debris without remembering how her body knew to do that, skidding through broken glass and into shadow.
Sillexa slammed into her from behind, sending them both sprawling across the shop floor. Sminty tumbled in allowing momentum, shrieking as the shutter screamed downward behind them.
Sillexa threw her weight into it, hands braced as the metal screeched closed, fingers slipping on grime and blood. A hand clawed under the gap just before it slammed shut.
Sillexa didnât hesitate.
Her knife came down once. Twice.
The hand went still.
The shutter hit concrete with a final, echoing bang that reverberated through the empty space.
Silence crashed down in its wake, thick, suffocating, punctured only by their own gasping breaths and the distant, furious noise of the horde outside.
Paige collapsed against a shelf and slid to the floor, lungs burning, vision tunneling. Her whole body shook violently now, adrenaline tearing through her with nowhere to go.
Sminty wasnât doing much better.
She staggered a few steps before folding over completely, retching violently onto the tile. The sound was awful, wet, desperate, each heave wringing something raw and animal out of her chest. She sobbed between breaths, one hand braced against the floor like it was the only thing keeping her upright.
Sillexa leaned back against the shutter, chest heaving, forehead pressed to the cold metal. Her hands were shaking badly now, fingers smeared red and black.
âOkay,â she whispered, more to herself than anyone else. âOkay. Okay.â
Paige stared at her.
She had never seen Sillexa like this, not like this. Not stripped bare by fear, sarcasm burned clean away. Her jaw trembled as she dragged in air, eyes squeezed shut like if she opened them she might break apart entirely.
Paige pushed herself up unsteadily and crossed the floor, wrapping her arms around Sillexaâs middle without thinking.
Sillexa made a strangled sound and immediately folded into her, gripping Paigeâs jacket like it was a lifeline. Her breath stuttered violently against Paigeâs shoulder.
âI thoughtââ she choked. âI thought I lost you. I thoughtââ
âIâm here,â Paige murmured, over and over. âIâm here. Iâm here.â
Sminty slid down the wall nearby, wiping her mouth with a shaking hand. âIâm gonna be real,â she said weakly. âI donât think I can do that again. Like. Ever.â
Paige managed a breathless laugh that dissolved into something too close to a sob.
They didnât stay long.
They couldnât.
The noise outside hadnât faded, if anything, it was getting worse, the horde pressing and shifting, attracted by the shutter, by the sounds they couldnât fully silence.
Sillexa pulled back first, wiping at her face hard. The softness retreated, not gone, but tucked away, rationed carefully.
âWe canât wait it out,â she said. âTheyâll figure this place out.â
Paige nodded, throat tight. âThe vanââ
âIs three blocks east,â Sillexa finished. âIf itâs still there.â
Sminty laughed once, sharp and hysterical. âLove that for us.â
They moved through the shop toward the back exit, weapons raised, bodies tense and exhausted already. Paigeâs legs still trembled with every step. Her lungs burned. Her head rang.
She thought of the van, the buildersâ logo still half-visible, the mattress theyâd shoved in the back, the stolen fairy lights they rationed like hope. The only place that felt even vaguely safe anymore.
She didnât know if theyâd make it.
The door at the back creaked open onto another street choked with bodies.
Sillexa swore under her breath.
Paige tightened her grip on her knife and stepped forward anyway.
They didnât make it half a block before everything went wrong again.
The street beyond the shop was narrower, boxed in by brick buildings that funneled sound and movement into a single, lethal channel. Paigeâs boots slipped on something slick, blood, rainwater, she didnât know, and the horde reacted instantly. Heads snapped toward them. Bodies surged. The air filled with noise, a rising, hungry roar that made her skin prickle.
âMove, move, move,â Sillexa gasped, dragging Paige along by the sleeve now, no finesse left, just desperation.
Paige ran blind, lungs on fire, the sound of her own heartbeat drowning out everything else. Every step felt too loud. Every breath felt like an invitation. The city felt awake in a way it never had before, like it was actively trying to kill them.
Something grabbed at Paigeâs backpack.
She screamed, the sound tearing out of her throat, and slashed backward without looking. Her blade met resistance, meat, bone, and she yanked it free with a sob, nearly losing her balance as the walker collapsed behind her.
Sminty was crying outright now, a thin, panicked sound threaded through her panting. âI canâtâI canâtâI canâtââ
âYou can,â Sillexa snapped, voice cracking. âYou are literally doing it right now.â
A doorway loomed ahead, office building, glass already shattered, heavy door hanging half-open.
They veered sharply, barely making it through before Sillexa slammed the door behind them with her shoulder. She threw the deadbolt, then another, hands slipping, breath coming in harsh, broken pulls.
The door shuddered almost immediately.
A body hit it from the outside. Then another.
Paige staggered back, chest heaving, vision swimming. The space smelled like dust and old carpet and something faintly chemical. Fluorescent lights flickered weakly overhead, casting everything in a sick, stuttering glow.
For one fragile, stupid second, Paige thought. Safe.
Then something groaned behind them. Slow. Close.
Paige turned. Six walkers stood scattered through the open-plan office.
Six.
They were dressed in business casual, wrinkled slacks, blouses torn and stained, lanyards still hanging around necrotic necks. One sat slumped in a chair, head lolled to the side like it had fallen asleep at work and never woken up.
Another lifted its head. And screamed.
âOh no,â Sminty whimpered. âNo, no, noâthis is bad, this is really badââ
âQuiet,â Sillexa hissed, already moving, eyes darting, calculating. âOkay. Okay. We can do this. One at a time. Donât fire unless you have to.â
They spread instinctively, backs almost touching, a rough, shaking circle of steel and terror.
The first walker lunged faster than Paige expected.
It slammed into her, knocking her into a desk. Pain exploded up her spine as she went down hard, the breath ripped from her lungs yet again like the universe was mocking her. Its hands clawed at her shoulders, nails digging in, mouth snapping inches from her face.
âNoânoâget offââ
She shoved desperately, blade wedged uselessly between them. Panic overtook technique. She screamed Sillexaâs name like a prayer.
Sillexa was there instantly.
Her knife plunged down into the walkerâs skull with a wet crack. Once. Twice. She dragged it off Paige with a guttural sound that might have been a sob.
âGet up,â she said, voice wrecked. âPlease, Paige, get up.â
Paige scrambled back, shaking so badly she could barely stand.
Sminty wasnât faring better.
Two walkers had converged on her, pinning her against a filing cabinet. She swung wildly, shrieking, knife skidding off bone. One of them snapped at her arm, teeth grazing fabric.
Sillexa turned just in time to see it.
âOh my GodâSminty!â
She fired.
The gunshot was deafening in the enclosed space. The walkerâs head exploded backward, spraying the wall. The second reeled, disoriented, and Sminty took the chance, stabbing down with a scream that sounded torn straight out of her chest.
Paige barely registered the last two until one grabbed her hair from behind.
White-hot pain seared her scalp as her head was yanked back. The walkerâs mouth descended, breath foul and hot against her cheek.
âNoânoânoââ
She slammed her heel down hard, stomping blindly, felt something give. The grip loosened enough for her to twist free, and she drove her knife up under its jaw with everything she had.
It went down, twitching.
The final walker came at Sillexa.
They collided hard, crashing into a desk that splintered under their combined weight. Sillexa grunted, struggling, the walkerâs hands locked around her throat.
Paige moved without thinking.
She tackled it from the side, both of them going down in a mess of limbs and snarling mouths. Her knife plunged down again and again until the resistance stopped, until the body went slack and heavy and dead.
Silence fell like a dropped curtain.
Paige lay there, chest heaving, ears ringing, staring at the ceiling tiles. Her hands were slick. Her arms trembled so violently she couldnât push herself up at first.
Sminty slid down the wall, sobbing openly now, face buried in her knees. âI donâtâI donât want to do this anymore,â she choked. âI canâtâthis isnâtââ
Sillexa crawled over to Paige and collapsed beside her, pressing her forehead to Paigeâs shoulder, breath shuddering.
âI thought you were gone,â she whispered, barely audible. âAgain. I keep thinking thatâs it. That thatâs the moment.â
Paige wrapped an arm around her weakly, holding on like if she let go the floor might swallow them whole.
Outside, the door rattled.
The horde had heard everything.
Sillexa lifted her head, eyes red, jaw setting even as her hands still shook. âWe canât stay,â she said hoarsely. âWe have to move. Now. Or theyâll tear this place apart.â
Paige nodded, swallowing hard, forcing herself upright despite how her body screamed in protest. Every muscle ached. Her scalp throbbed. Her lungs felt raw.
The building didnât let them forget the dead.
It groaned and rattled around them like it was breathing, like it was alive and angry about it. Each impact from below sent a tremor through the stairwell, dust drifting down in pale sheets. The smell lingered too; blood, rot, something sharp and chemical that burned the back of Paigeâs throat.
Sminty had gone very still.
She sat on the step with her back to the wall, knees drawn up, eyes fixed on nothing. Her hands were shaking so badly they rattled faintly against her knife.
âI donât feel good,â she said again, quieter this time, like she was confessing something shameful. âI really donât.â
Paige crouched in front of her, heart thudding. Smintyâs skin was clammy under her fingers, too warm, pulse skittering like a trapped bird.
âYouâre okay,â Paige said, though it felt like a lie she was mouthing out of habit. âYouâre justâyour bodyâs catching up. Weâre getting out of here.â
Sminty nodded automatically. Then her face crumpled.
âI keep seeing it,â she whispered. âI keep seeing Elle.â
Sillexaâs head snapped around.
Paige felt something cold settle in her gut. Elle wasnât just a name, theyâd all known her. Laughed with her. Danced beside her. She had been alive in a way that still felt recent enough to hurt.
âWhat happened?â Paige asked gently.
Smintyâs mouth opened.
Closed.
Her breathing sped up, shallow and panicked, like she was trying not to drown.
âWe were together,â she said finally, words tumbling out unevenly. âMe and Bones and Krystal and Chai and Elle and Dede. First day. We were all together. We thoughtââ A broken laugh escaped her. âWe thought if we stayed in a group, weâd be fine.â
Sillexa sank slowly onto the step beside Paige, eyes never leaving Smintyâs face.
Sminty swallowed hard. Her eyes shone, unfocused.
âWe were crossing the road,â she said. âTraffic everywhere. Cars smashed into each other. People screaming. And thenâthen they started coming out of the buildings. Like ants. Just⊠pouring.â
Her hands clenched in her sleeves.
âElle tripped,â Sminty continued. âShe fell right in the middle of the road. And it was likeâlike the world decided that was enough for her.â
Paigeâs stomach twisted.
âA bus,â Sminty whispered. âIt didnât even stop. It justâhit her. I donât think she felt it. I donât think she even knew.â
Her voice shook violently now.
âSheâshe was just gone. Not dead like people are dead. Justââ Sminty gestured helplessly. âSmeared. Across the road. I saw her jacket stuck to the tire when it drove off.â
Paige pressed a hand to her mouth.
Sillexa swore softly, eyes squeezed shut.
âAnd Dede,â Sminty went on, tears spilling freely now. âDede got grabbed. I was right there. I was holding her hand.â
Her breath hitched hard.
âThey took her face,â Sminty said, voice cracking completely. âNot all of it. Justâchunks. Her cheek. Her throat. I could see her teeth through the side of her mouth.â
Paige felt dizzy.
âShe was still trying to talk,â Sminty sobbed. âShe kept saying my name. But it didnât sound right anymore. It was all wet. She was choking on it. On her own blood.â
Sminty wrapped her arms around herself like she was freezing.
âShe fell, and they kept biting her, and I watched her change,â she whispered. âLike right in front of me. Her eyes went wrong. And she stood up. And she looked at me. And she tried to say something again but it was justâgargling. Like she was drowning.â
Silence swallowed the stairwell.
Paige felt something tear open in her chest, horror layered over grief layered over a sick, nauseating understanding. Sheâd killed walkers already. But hearing it like this, hearing Dede in it, made it different. Worse.
âShe came for us,â Sminty said quietly. âAnd Bones pulled me away. And I didnât look back again.â
Paige reached out without thinking and pulled Sminty into her chest. Sminty collapsed into her instantly, sobbing so hard her whole body shook.
âI never told you,â Sminty gasped. âI couldnâtâI thought if I said it out loud it would make it real.â
Sillexa rubbed a hand over her face, eyes wet, voice low and rough. âFuck. Sminty.â
The building shuddered again, harder this time. Something downstairs gave way with a splintering crack.
Sillexa straightened immediately, fear snapping her back into motion. âWe need to move,â she said hoarsely. âNow. Before they come up here.â
Sminty nodded weakly, wiping her face with the sleeve of her jacket like it didnât matter anymore.
They started up the stairs again, slow, careful, every step echoing too loudly. Paige supported Smintyâs weight, heart pounding so hard she could feel it in her throat.
They were halfway up when the crash came from above.
Three figures barreled into view from the landing, wild-eyed and blood-smeared and alive in a way that felt impossible.
Paige barely registered anything but the blood at first, streaked across sleeves, hands shaking, clothes torn.
Then.
âPaige?â
Her name, fractured by disbelief. The world tilted sideways.
Bones stood there, chest heaving, hair pulled back messily, blood dried along her temple. Her eyes locked onto Paigeâs like she was staring at a ghost.
For one suspended, unreal moment, no one moved.
Then Paige made a sound that wasnât a word and lurched forward, crashing into Bones with bruising force. Bones caught her automatically, arms locking tight, both of them shaking like they might fall apart if they let go.
Bones pressed her face into Paigeâs shoulder, voice breaking completely. âI thought you were dead. I thoughtââ
Behind them, Krystal leaned against the wall, laughing weakly through bloodied teeth. âThis is so fucked,â she muttered. âI hate it here.â
Chai hovered just behind, eyes soft and devastated and steady all at once. âWe donât have long,â she said gently, firmly. âTheyâre coming up.â
Bones pulled back just enough to look at Paige again, eyes frantic. âElle and Dedeââ She swallowed hard. âThey didnât make it.â
Paige nodded, fingers still fisted in Bonesâ jacket, Sminty shaking silently beside her.
They didnât get long to exist in the miracle of it.
The stairwell felt suddenly too small for the number of living people crammed into it, the air thick with breath and sweat and the metallic tang of blood. Bones was still there, there, her hands warm and real on Paigeâs arms, her eyes flicking over Paigeâs face like she was memorising it again from scratch.
Paige wanted, desperately, to collapse back into her. To press her forehead to Bonesâ and feel the grounding weight of her presence. To let herself shake now that the thing sheâd been grieving had stepped out of the dead.
âPaige.â
Sillexaâs voice cut through the moment, low and tight.
Paige looked over. Sillexa was already moving, already doing that thing she did when fear sharpened her instincts into something ruthless. She jerked her head toward the narrow stretch of landing just out of earshot, fingers catching Paigeâs sleeve.
âTwo seconds,â Sillexa said. Not a request.
Paige hesitated, eyes flicking back to Bones, Bones, who watched her go with a faint crease between her brows, like she could already sense distance forming.
âIâll be right back,â Paige murmured, hating how it sounded like a lie.
Sillexa pulled her aside, pressing them into the shadowed corner of the landing. The sounds of the others blurred into background noise, the dead below, the quiet murmurs above.
Sillexa didnât waste time.
âYou are not telling them about the van,â she said immediately.
Paige stared at her. âWhat?â
âNot yet,â Sillexa clarified, jaw tight. âNot until weâre sure.â
Paigeâs chest flared hot. âLex, are you serious right now? Thatâs Bones. You know her. You know all of them.â
Paige scoffed, incredulous. âWeâve been sleeping in that van for weeks. Itâs not just a vehicleâitâs our food, our meds, our weapons. You want me to lie to her face?â
âI want you to keep us alive,â Sillexa said, voice sharp but shaking underneath. âWhich means not advertising the one thing keeping us from dying on the street.â
Paige ran a hand through her hair, pacing the tiny space like a caged animal. âYou donât get it. I thought she was dead. I thought Iâd never see her again. And now sheâs here and you want me toâwhatâplay politics?â
âI get it,â Sillexa snapped, then stopped herself, breath hitching. Her voice dropped. âI get it too well. Thatâs why Iâm being the bad guy.â
Paige looked at her thenâreally looked.
Sillexaâs hands were still shaking. There was blood under her nails she hadnât noticed yet. Her eyes were rimmed red, exhaustion and terror barely contained behind sarcasm and control.
âYou think I donât want to trust them?â Sillexa went on quietly. âYou think I donât want to believe this is a miracle and everythingâs fine now? Because I do. I want that more than anything. But people get desperate. And desperation makes monsters out of good people.â
Paige swallowed hard.
Sillexa stepped closer, voice dropping to a near-whisper. âIf we tell them about the van and this goes sideways, we lose everything. No fallback. No safety. No way out.â
Paigeâs jaw clenched. âBones wouldnât.â
âYou donât know that anymore,â Sillexa said gently. âNone of us are who we were a month ago.â
That landed. Hard.
Paige looked away, chest tight, anger and grief twisting together until she couldnât tell where one ended and the other began. She hated that Sillexa was right. Hated that survival had turned everything into a negotiation.
Sillexa softened then, just a fraction. âIâm not saying never. Iâm saying not yet. Let me ask questions. Let me feel them out. If itâs safe, Iâll say so. I promise.â
Paige let out a shaky breath through her nose. âYouâre unbelievable.â
âI know,â Sillexa said. âYou love me anyway.â
Paige huffed, defeated. âBarely.â
But she nodded.
Sillexa squeezed her arm once, firm and grounding, before turning back toward the others, mask sliding back into place.
Bones was watching them when they returned, eyes sharp and searching. Paige felt the pull toward her immediately, instinctive and painful, but she forced herself to stay half a step back, shoulder brushing Sillexaâs instead.
Sillexa took point.
âSo,â she said, casual on the surface, voice steady. âLetâs do a quick headcount slash trauma debrief before the dead get upstairs.â
Krystal snorted. âLove a meeting.â
âHow many of you?â Sillexa asked.
âThree,â Bones said. âUs.â She gestured briefly to Krystal and Chai. âIt was five this morning.â
Paige flinched.
âAnd youâre holed up where?â Sillexa continued.
Bones hesitated. Just a beat too long. âNowhere permanent. We had a flat, but it got overrun. Weâve been moving since.â
âWhat are you armed with?â
âTwo knives. One gun,â Krystal said, patting her waistband. âSix bullets. So. Living the dream.â
Sillexa nodded slowly, filing it away. âTransport?â
Bones exhaled. âA small car. If itâs still where we left it.â
Paige felt Sillexaâs attention flick briefly to her, checking, confirming. and then away again.
âOkay,â Sillexa said. âWeâve got a car too.â
Paige bit down hard on her tongue at the word car, anger flaring even as she understood the choice. Bones didnât comment, but her eyes flicked to Paige again, something unreadable passing across her face.
Below them, the stairwell door banged open.
Chai straightened instantly, soft voice firm. âTheyâre coming. We need to move. Now.â
Sillexa nodded. âAgreed.â
Paige finally let herself step closer to Bones as they started moving, fingers brushing Bonesâ sleeve, just enough to say Iâm here. Bones leaned into it subtly, like sheâd been holding herself apart on purpose.
The plan came together the way most plans did now, quick, jagged, born out of fear rather than confidence.
âWe canât go back down,â Sillexa said, already scanning the stairwell above them like it might sprout teeth. âStreet levelâs suicide.â
Krystal leaned over the railing, peering down through a grimy window at the chaos below. Her mouth twisted. âYeah. No. Absolutely not. Thatâs a meat grinder.â
The city outside looked feral. The street writhed with movement, too many bodies packed too tightly, drawn toward sound and shadow and the promise of something alive. Walkers slammed into abandoned cars, crawled over one another, tripped and got trampled only to claw their way back up again. Smoke drifted somewhere in the distance, turning the sunlight a sickly yellow.
Paigeâs stomach churned.
Bones stood close enough now that Paige could feel the heat of her through their sleeves. Every instinct screamed to grab her, to anchor herself in the familiar solidity of her body, but Paige stayed still, jaw tight, hands clenched uselessly at her sides.
Chai spoke softly, cutting through the noise without raising her voice. âThereâs roof access,â she said, pointing. âFire stairs. We can go up.â
Sillexa followed her gaze, nodding slowly. âOkay. Roofs it is.â
Sminty let out a weak laugh that dissolved into a hiccup. âOf course it is. Why wouldnât it be roofs.â
They moved again, climbing the final flight of stairs as the sounds below grew louder, wood splintering, glass breaking, something heavy being dragged across tile. Paigeâs legs burned with every step, muscles screaming, lungs raw like sheâd swallowed fire.
The door to the roof was rusted but intact. Sillexa shoved it open with her shoulder, wind immediately whipping through the stairwell, carrying the stink of smoke and rot and the cityâs slow collapse.
The roof stretched out before them, flat, uneven, cluttered with vents and satellite dishes and debris blown in by weeks of neglect. From up here, London looked wrong. Too open. Too exposed. Too alive in all the worst ways.
Paigeâs breath caught.
Across the narrow alleyway, barely six feet away, was another building, same height, same ugly concrete lip, its own roof cluttered with junk. A fragile bridge of possibility.
Sillexa stepped forward, peering over the edge. âOkay,â she said carefully. âWe can cross.â
Sminty made a strangled noise. âYou mean jump.â
âStep,â Sillexa corrected, though her voice wasnât convincing even to herself. âItâs a step. A long step.â
Krystal snorted. âThatâs a jump, babe.â
Paige edged closer to the ledge despite herself, heart slamming violently into her ribs as she looked down. The alley below was a vertical throat of shadow and movement, hands reaching, bodies pressing, mouths open in soundless hunger. If you fell, you wouldnât hit the ground.
Youâd be caught.
Paigeâs vision tunneled.
Bones noticed immediately.
âHey,â she said quietly, just for Paige. âDonât look down.â
Paige swallowed hard and looked at her instead. Bonesâ face was pale beneath the grime, eyes steady but dark with fear she wasnât bothering to hide. There was blood dried at her hairline. A bruise blooming along her jaw.
âYou okay?â Bones asked, softer still.
Paige nodded, even though it was a lie. âYeah.â
Sillexa was already testing options, tugging at a length of loose cable and a battered wooden plank someone had abandoned up here ages ago. She dragged them toward the gap, movements precise despite the tremor in her hands.
âWe lay this across,â she said. âOne at a time. Lightest first.â
Sminty barked a shaky laugh. âOh, good. So I die last.â
âNo,â Sillexa said flatly. âYou go first.â
Sminty blinked. âIâwhat?â
âYouâre already shaking,â Sillexa said, gentler now. âGet it over with.â
Sminty looked at Paige, eyes wide and terrified. Paige stepped forward and squeezed her hand.
They laid the plank across the gap. It wobbled slightly, the sound of wood scraping concrete echoing far too loudly in the open air. Something below howled in response.
Sminty whimpered.
âOkay,â Sillexa said. âNow.â
Sminty went.
She moved like she was walking a tightrope over hell, which, to be fair, she was. Arms out, breath coming in sharp, panicked bursts, she edged across the plank inch by inch, eyes locked on Paigeâs face.
But Sminty caught herself, sobbing openly now, and scrambled the rest of the way across, collapsing onto the other roof in a heap.
Paigeâs knees nearly gave out in relief.
âOne down,â Krystal muttered. âOnly the rest of us.â
Chai went next, moving with surprising steadiness, her calm radiating outward like something solid. Krystal followed, swearing the entire way but making it across without incident.
Sillexa gestured for Bones and Paige to go together.
Paigeâs pulse spiked. She stepped onto the plank, the wood flexing ominously beneath her weight. The wind tugged at her jacket, cold fingers trying to unbalance her.
Halfway across, she froze.
The sounds below surged, walkers slamming into the building, drawn by the noise, by the silhouettes against the sky.
Paigeâs breath hitched. Her foot slipped.
Bones grabbed her instantly, arm locking around her waist, pulling her close enough that Paige could feel her heart pounding too.
âIâve got you,â Bones said firmly, voice low and unwavering. âI wonât let you fall.â
Paige clung to her, fingers digging into Bonesâ jacket, terror cracking something open in her chest. She nodded, swallowing back a sob, and forced herself to move again.
They made it across together.
Sillexa crossed last, fast and efficient, kicking the plank away behind her the second her feet hit solid ground. It clattered down into the alley, disappearing into the mass below. A furious chorus rose in response.
They stood there for a moment on the second roof, panting, shaking, alive.
Paige bent over with her hands on her knees, chest heaving. The fear caught up with her all at once, nausea rolling violently through her stomach. She gagged, barely turning aside in time as bile burned up her throat.
Bones was there instantly again, one hand braced on Paigeâs back, the other tangled in her hair, holding her steady while she retched.
âI know,â Bones murmured. âI know.â
Paigeâs vision blurred, tears spilling freely now that she couldnât stop them. âI thought you were dead,â she whispered, voice breaking completely. âI really did.â
Bones pressed her forehead against Paigeâs temple, breathing just as hard. âIâm here,â she said. âIâm not going anywhere.â
Sillexa watched them from a few feet away, jaw tight, eyes scanning the edges of the roof even as she registered the moment. Below, the city screamed and thrashed, relentless.
She thought of the van.
Of how easily it could disappear if the wrong person decided they needed it more.
âOkay,â Sillexa said finally, voice steady despite everything. âNext step. Closest car first. Then we drive to the second.â
Paige nodded, wiping her face, forcing herself upright.
Sillexa added, quieter, almost to herself, âGod help us if the first oneâs ours.â
The roof didnât give them mercy for long.
The stairwell door on the far side resisted at first, rusted hinge screaming in protest as Sillexa forced it open just enough to peer through. The smell hit them immediately. Old blood. Damp concrete. Something sweet and wrong underneath it all.
Sillexa swore under her breath. âWeâre not alone.â
They descended anyway, because there was no other choice.
The first walker came at them three steps down.
It lurched out of the shadow like it had been waiting, jaw hanging loose, one arm dragging uselessly behind it. Paige barely had time to register its shape before Sillexa was already moving, knife flashing in the narrow space.
âBackâbackââ
There was no room. The stairwell was a bottleneck of bodies and panic and sharp edges. Paige slammed herself against the wall as Bones drove her blade up under the walkerâs chin, the impact vibrating through the metal railing. It collapsed forward, dead weight tumbling down the steps with a sound like sacks of meat being dropped.
Another followed it.
And another.
They fought shoulder to shoulder now, breaths ragged, knives slipping slick with blood. Paigeâs arm screamed in protest as she shoved a body away, teeth snapping inches from her wrist. The sound, that sound, wet and tearing and intimate, clawed at her nerves.
Sminty screamed when one grabbed her ankle.
Paige reacted on instinct, lunging forward and hacking downward until the grip loosened and the walker fell back, skull cracked open against concrete. Sminty collapsed against the wall, sobbing, face pale and slick with sweat.
âI canâtâPaige, I canâtââ
âYou are,â Paige snapped, grabbing her shoulders. âYou are.â
Sillexa finished the last one with a brutal efficiency that left her shaking afterward, chest heaving, eyes glassy.
For a moment, just a moment, there was quiet.
They stood there panting, surrounded by bodies, the stairwell slick and reeking and undeniably cleared.
âNo more,â Krystal muttered. âI am officially done with stairs.â
They reached the bottom floor carefully, weapons raised.
The street outside the glass frontage looked⊠wrong.
Empty, mostly. Abandoned cars skewed at odd angles, doors left open like mouths mid-scream. No horde. No immediate movement. Sunlight slanted in dusty and harmless-looking, like a trap.
As if summoned, something slammed into the glass from the other side of the lobby.
Not outside.
Inside.
The ground floor was open-plan, wide, echoing, full of overturned furniture and shattered planters. And walkers. Not dozens. Not yet. But enough. Clustered near the street-facing windows, pacing, bumping into one another, drawn to light and sound like moths to a flame.
And between them and the street.
The revolving door.
âOh no,â Sminty whispered. âNo, no, no, absolutely not.â
The door stood pristine and stupid and intact, four glass panels slowly turning as something nudged it from the other side. A design meant to control flow. To trap air.
To trap people.
Sillexaâs face went tight. âThatâs our exit.â
Krystal barked a humorless laugh. âOf course it is.â
Paigeâs eyes flicked to the street, and her heart sank further.
Parked half a block down, angled badly against the curb, unmistakable even at a distance.
The van. Their van.
The buildersâ logo still ghosted along the side. One back door dented from when Paige had misjudged a turn weeks ago. Fairy lights faintly visible through the rear window if you knew where to look.
Sillexa noticed too. Her jaw clenched hard enough it looked like it might crack.
âFuck,â she breathed.
Bones followed her gaze. âThat yours?â
Sillexa didnât answer immediately. Paige felt the tension spike beside her, sharp and ugly and private.
âYes,â Sillexa said finally. âAnd itâs too close.â
The walkers in the lobby shifted as a group, heads snapping toward them now that they were fully visible. One shrieked. Another stumbled forward, hands slapping uselessly against glass.
The revolving door creaked as something pushed into it from the far side.
Chai spoke softly, cutting through the rising panic. âWe canât fight them all. We have to move through.â
Paige stared at the door, dread pooling low and heavy in her gut. The mechanics of it ran through her head unbidden, how it forced you to slow, to commit, to be vulnerable in increments. How it only let one person pass safely at a time.
âHow fast does it turn?â Krystal asked grimly.
âToo slow,â Sillexa said.
Sminty shook her head violently. âI donât like that. I really donât like that.â
Paige reached for her without thinking, fingers curling into Smintyâs sleeve. Sminty clutched back like she might fall otherwise.
Sillexa exhaled sharply, eyes flicking between the door, the walkers, the van. Calculating. Choosing who got to live with the consequences.
âOkay,â she said. âListen to me. One at a time. No stopping. No freezing.â
Her eyes met Paigeâs brieflyâapologetic, resolute.
âWe go fast,â Sillexa continued. âWe do not turn around for anything.â
They didnât have time to decide who went first.
They ran.
Paige barely remembered her feet hitting the floor, only the violent jolt as she slammed into the revolving door, shoulder first, glass rattling as Sillexa shoved in behind her and Bones barreled through on the other side. The door lurched, began to turn, slow and agonising, its panels catching the light like a cruel joke.
The lobby erupted.
Walkers poured in from the side corridors, too many, moving too fast, drawn by the sudden noise and the crush of living bodies. Krystal and Chai were still outside the door, knives flashing, trying desperately to thin the swarm enough to follow.
âGOâGOâGO!â Sillexa screamed, shoving the door harder, muscles burning as she forced it around.
Paige stumbled out onto the pavement, nearly falling flat on her face. Bones grabbed her arm, hauling her upright as Sillexa burst out behind them, already spinning back toward the door.
They turned together.
And saw immediatelyâ
This wasnât survivable.
The street might have been quiet, but the inside was a nightmare. Walkers slammed into the glass from every angle, hands smearing blood across it, mouths open in soundless screams. Krystal and Chai fought like hell, backs pressed together, blood splattering the pristine marble floor.
âWE CANâT CLEAR THEM ALL,â Krystal yelled, voice raw. âITâS TOO MANY!â
Sillexaâs face went white.
âChaiâNOW!â she shouted.
Chai ducked under a grasping arm and dove into the revolving door just as it came back around. Krystal followed, swearing viciously as she shoved her way in, slamming her shoulder into the glass to keep it moving.
And then.
Sminty screamed. Not a scream of fear. A scream of shock.
Paige saw it happen in fragments, her brain lagging behind the reality of it. A walker lunging from the side. Teeth sinking into Smintyâs collarbone and neck. Flesh tearing away in a wet, obscene sound that cut straight through the chaos.
Sminty staggered back, eyes wide, mouth opening and closing.
âOhâohâheyâhey,â she said, confused, like sheâd tripped. âThatâheyâthat really hurtââ
Blood poured down her chest in sheets.
Half her collar was gone. Torn open, muscle and bone visible beneath shredded fabric, her skin hanging in ruined ribbons. One side of her neck sagged unnaturally, bite marks deep and catastrophic.
She didnât seem to understand.
Adrenaline held her upright, frantic and blind.
âIâm fine,â Sminty insisted, voice wet and bubbling already. âIâm fineâI didnâtâI didnât get bitâIâm okayââ
She lurched toward the revolving door just as Krystal and Chai spilled out onto the pavement.
Sminty slammed into the glass.
âLET ME IN,â she screamed, pounding weakly now, palms smearing red. âPLEASEâPLEASE LET ME INâIâM NOT BITâIâM NOTâIâM FINEââ
Krystal turned. Saw her. And froze.
For half a second, her face broke completely, horror, grief, disbelief tearing through the sarcasm like it had never existed.
Then she moved.
She planted herself in front of the door, arms out, body blocking it.
âNo,â Krystal said hoarsely.
Sminty stared at her, betrayed and terrified. âWhatâwhat are you doingâKrystal, moveâIâm bleedingâI need helpââ
She clawed at the glass harder now, nails scraping, leaving bloody crescents behind. Walkers surged behind her, pressing her flat against the door, their weight pinning her there.
Paige screamed her name.
Sillexa grabbed Paige around the waist from behind, holding her back as she thrashed. âPaigeânoâdonâtââ
Smintyâs voice went high and thin, breaking apart. âMum,â she cried suddenly. âMumâI need youâMumâit hurtsââ
The walkers descended.
Hands tore at her shoulders. Teeth sank into the open wound at her neck, ripping away what little was left. She screamed until the sound shredded itself raw, until it turned into choking, gargling sobs as blood flooded her throat.
She banged her head weakly against the glass once.
Twice.
âPLEASE,â she sobbed, mouth filling, red spilling down her chin. âI donâtâI donât wantââ
A walker latched onto her jaw and pulled.
The sound was unspeakable.
Paige sobbed violently, trying to break free as Bones wrapped her arms around her from the other side, holding her up as her knees gave out.
Smintyâs body went slack as they tore into her, screams dissolving into wet, broken noises until there were none left at all.
Her hand slid slowly down the glass, leaving a final red streak before disappearing beneath the mass of bodies.
Krystal slammed her fist into the door with a scream that ripped her voice raw.
Chai sank to her knees, hands over her mouth, silent tears streaming down her face.
Sillexa finally dragged Paige away as the walkers began battering the door from the inside, the glass spiderwebbing under the assault.
They ran like animals.
Not coordinated, not clean, just raw, panicked motion, lungs burning, feet slipping on blood-slick pavement as the doors behind them finally gave way with a sound like a breaking bone. The office vomited walkers into the street, bodies spilling out in a heaving, grasping mass, drawn by noise and scent and fresh death.
Smintyâs death followed them.
They couldnât see her anymore, but they could see the proof.
One walker stumbled first out of the doorway, jaw working uselessly as it chewed nothing at all. A curtain of dark hair hung from its teeth, tangled and unmistakably hers. Another dragged itself forward on ruined knees, collarbone slick and red, fingers clutching a strip of fabric patterned with little stars, Smintyâs jacket, torn clean through. Blood shone wet on their mouths, their chins, their hands. Fresh. Still dripping.
Paige made a sound like she was being torn in half.
âDONâT LOOK,â Sillexa shouted, though she herself couldnât stop seeing it, couldnât stop the image from burning itself into her brain, Smintyâs hand sliding down the glass, the way her voice had broken when she screamed for her mum.
They bolted.
The van was there, too far, impossibly far, parked at the curb like a cruel miracle. Walkers poured from side streets now, drawn by the chaos, some sprinting, some staggering, all of them hungry.
Sillexa hit the van first.
She wrenched the driverâs door open and physically threw Paige inside, hands on her shoulders, shoving her across the seat hard enough that Paige cried out.
âGET INâGET INââ
Paige collapsed onto the passenger side, curling in on herself immediately, breath hitching violently.
Sillexa vaulted into the driverâs seat, slammed the door, locked it with shaking fingers. Bones appeared next, face white and feral, yanking the side door open as Krystal and Chai sprinted toward them.
For half a second, just one.
Sillexaâs hand hovered over the ignition.
She thought⊠I could go. I could save her. I could save Paige.
She thought of hands clawing at glass. Of bites. Of blood. Of trust that could kill you faster than any walker.
And then Krystal reached the door, eyes wild, screaming something Sillexa couldnât hear over the roar in her own head.
Sillexa swore violently and stayed.
Bones dragged Chai inside. Krystal scrambled in last, slamming the side door shut as walkers collided with it seconds later, bodies thudding against metal, fingernails screeching as they tried to pry their way in.
Bones lunged for the latch, hands slipping, blood smearing across the handle as she forced it down with a violent shove.
The van rocked as walkers slammed into it.
Faces pressed against the windows, flattened noses, wide eyes, mouths opening and closing, teeth clicking inches from living flesh. One dragged its tongue slowly across the glass, leaving a cloudy smear. Another beat its forehead against the window again and again, the dull thud echoing through the van like a heartbeat.
Paige was hyperventilating.
She was folded in on herself, knees to chest, hands clawing at her shirt like she couldnât get enough air into her lungs. Her breaths came sharp and useless, little gasps that went nowhere.
âIâLexâIââ she choked, eyes unfocused, tears streaming down her face. âI canâtâI canâtâI canâtââ
Sillexa reached across the console, grabbed Paigeâs face with both hands, forced her to look at her.
âPaige,â she said, voice shaking but fierce. âPaigeâlook at me. Look at me.â
Paigeâs eyes flickered, unfocused, then locked on.
âYouâre here,â Sillexa said. âYouâre alive. Youâre in the van. Youâre okay right now.â
The van lurched violently as a walker slammed into the hood.
âDRIVE,â Krystal screamed from the back. âDRIVE OR THEYâRE GETTING INââ
Sillexa turned the key.
The engine roared to life like a prayer answered too late for someone else. She slammed her foot down, the van surging forward, bodies rolling off the hood, walkers stumbling and falling beneath the tires with sickening thumps.
They tore down the street, walkers scattering behind them, the office disappearing in the rearview mirror like a nightmare that refused to stay buried.
Bones didnât hesitate.
There wasnât space for it, no room in the van or in the moment for disbelief, for the weight of youâre real, youâre here, you didnât die. Whatever part of her had learned to survive by locking everything down simply⊠stepped aside.
She moved like gravity.
Paige was shaking so badly it rattled the seat, breath still stuttering, eyes glassy and unfocused as if she were half a second away from vanishing entirely. Bones climbed over the console without thinking, knees knocking into metal, one hand braced against the dashboard as the van swerved.
âHey,â Bones said, soft in a way she almost never allowed herself to be. The word cracked. âHey, love. Look at me.â
Paigeâs head jerked up at the sound of her voice.
For a split second, nothing registered, then her face collapsed. A broken, animal sob tore out of her as she lunged forward, hands clutching fistfuls of Bonesâ jacket like she was afraid Bones might dissolve if she didnât anchor her there.
Bones wrapped around her immediately.
She pulled Paige into her chest, one arm locked tight around her shoulders, the other cradling the back of her head, fingers threading through blonde hair that was sticky with sweat and blood that wasnât hers. Paige buried her face into Bonesâ neck and cried like something had finally given her permission to fall apart.
âI thought you were dead,â Paige gasped, words tumbling out between broken breaths. âI thoughtâI keptâI kept waitingââ
âI know,â Bones murmured, rocking her gently despite the vanâs violent motion. âI know. Iâm here. Iâve got you. Youâre okayâjust stay with me, yeah? Breathe with me.â
She pressed her lips to Paigeâs temple, then her hair, grounding herself in the reality of it, the warmth, the weight, the fact that Paige was solid and alive and shaking in her arms.
Sillexa watched them for half a second too long.
Her chest tightened painfully, relief and terror tangling into something sharp and unmanageable. She forced her eyes back to the road, knuckles white on the steering wheel as the city blurred past, burning cars, abandoned buses, figures moving too fast between alleyways.
âFuck the car,â Krystal said hoarsely from the back, voice rough with screaming and grief. âJustâLexâjust get us out. I donât care where. Anywhere but here.â
The van hurtled through red lights, clipped curbs, bounced over potholes hard enough to make teeth clack. Walkers lurched into the road and scattered again, some going under the wheels, others slamming into the sides with hollow thuds.
In the back, Chai hadnât said a word.
She sat hunched slightly forward, arms wrapped around her middle, face pale in a way that had nothing to do with fear. Her breathing was shallow, uneven, not panicked, just⊠wrong.
After a long stretch of silence, she cleared her throat.
âI feel a bit sick,â she said quietly. âLikeâum. Nauseous. Might be nothing.â
Bonesâ head snapped up instantly.
âYou okay?â she asked, gentler than the question deserved to be. âYou hit your head back there?â
Chai shook her head slowly, a small frown pulling at her mouth. âNo. I donât think so. Justâmy stomach feels weird. And my chestâs tight.â
She coughed then, soft, wet, like she was trying not to draw attention to it.
Krystal turned, eyes narrowing. âChai?â
âIâm fine,â Chai said automatically, too fast, offering a weak little smile that didnât reach her eyes. âProbably adrenaline. I just need water.â
Sillexa met Krystalâs gaze in the rearview mirror.
Something cold slid down her spine.
The van sped onward, out of the worst of the city, sirens wailing somewhere far behind them like ghosts that didnât know they were already dead.
Bones held Paige tighter.
And in the back of the van, Chai coughed again, just once, into her sleeve, where a dark red spot bloomed and quickly disappeared as she pulled her arm back to her chest.
No one said the word.
It sat in the van with them anyway, heavy, unspoken, breathing down their necks.
Paige and Bones had migrated fully into the back without anyone consciously deciding it. Paige was folded into Bonesâ side, legs tangled, forehead pressed into the hollow beneath Bonesâ jaw like she had finally found the only place left in the world that made sense. Bonesâ arms were locked around her, possessive and protective in a way that felt almost feral, thumb rubbing slow, grounding circles into Paigeâs spine.
If Bones let go, she was convinced Paige would shatter.
Paigeâs crying had softened into something quieter now, hiccupping breaths, tears soaking into Bonesâ shirt, hands still clenched tight like she was afraid Bones might disappear if she loosened her grip even a little. Bones pressed her cheek into Paigeâs hair, breathing her in, memorising the feel of her because Jesus Christ, sheâd already mourned her once.
In the front, Krystal had climbed into the passenger seat.
Sillexa drove like she was holding the world together by force of will alone, jaw tight, eyes flicking constantly between the road and the mirrors. The city thinned behind them, fewer walkers now, more abandoned cars, the buildings stretching lower and wider as they pushed outward.
Krystal leaned in slightly, voice low.
âSheâs been bit,â she said flatly.
Sillexa didnât look at her. âYou donât know that.â
Krystal snorted quietly. âI do know that. Iâve seen that cough before. And the nausea. And the way sheâs trying to act normal about it.â
Sillexa exhaled hard through her nose. âOr she inhaled a lungful of walker dust and adrenaline and panic and almost got eaten alive.â
Krystal glanced back at Chai.
Chai sat very still, head resting against the window, eyes closed. One hand was pressed lightly to her ribs like she was bracing against a wave that hadnât quite crested yet. She looked⊠peaceful, almost. Too peaceful.
Krystal swallowed.
âOkay,â she murmured. âSo whatâs your plan, then?â
Sillexaâs grip tightened on the wheel. âPlan for what?â
âFor when she turns.â
Sillexa let out a sharp, humourless laugh. âJesus Christ, youâre dramatic.â
âOh, Iâm dramatic?â Krystal scoffed, leaning her head back. âYou literally ran over three corpses back there without blinking.â
Sillexa shook her head slowly. âThatâs fucked.â
Krystal smiled faintly. âYeah. Welcome to the apocalypse.â
They fell into silence again, broken only by the hum of the engine and the occasional thump of something hitting the road beneath them.
Then Sillexa muttered, âWe could stop at a Tesco. Get her Lucozade. That fixes everything.â
Krystal barked out a laugh. âOh my god. Youâre right. Zombies? Fine. Apocalypse? Sorted. Just get Chai a fucking meal deal.â
âYeah okay.. that was stupid,â Sillexa said dryly.
Krystal laughed harder then, covering her mouth, shoulders shaking as the sound escaped her despite everything. It cracked something open in her chest, grief and terror leaking out sideways as ridiculous, hysterical humour.
They were quiet again after that.
Human again.
In the back, Paige shifted, lifting her head slightly. Her eyes were red and swollen, but calmer now, glassy in that exhausted way that came after the worst of the storm had passed.
âSheâs⊠tired,â she said carefully, voice low and soothing. âJust needs rest.â
Paige nodded, trusting her instantly, then burrowed back into Bonesâ chest, fingers curling into the fabric of her shirt like it was a lifeline.
Bones closed her eyes for half a second.
She didnât know if Chai had been bitten. She didnât know how much longer any of them had. All she knew was that Paige was here, breathing against her skin, alive.
The road stretched out in front of them like a held breath.
London thinned reluctantly, spitting them out in ragged pieces, burnt-out cars abandoned at obscene angles, traffic lights blinking uselessly over empty junctions, shop fronts smashed open like mouths left mid-scream. The further they drove, the quieter it got, but the quiet didnât feel like safety. It felt like the pause before something noticed you.
Sillexa kept the speed just high enough.
Too slow and the walkers would start to follow, not sprinting, not yet, but that awful, purposeful drifting that turned into a problem miles down the road when they suddenly had a moving wall of bodies behind them. Too fast and theyâd burn fuel they didnât have to spare.
The vanâs fuel gauge sat just under half.
Sillexa clocked it again. And again.
âWeâre going to need petrol soon,â she said, not loud, just factual, like she was naming the weather. âAnd not the fun kind where you pop into a station and grab a Coke.â
Krystal hummed. âWe have⊠what. Two jerry cans left?â
âTwo and a bit,â Sillexa said. âAnd weâre still carrying too much weight.â
Krystal glanced at the back, then at the blood smeared on her hands. âYeah. No shit.â
Outside, a cluster of walkers drifted out from between parked cars as the van passed. They didnât chase, not exactly, but their heads turned in eerie unison, bodies reorienting, feet adjusting their aim. One tripped and fell. The others stepped over it without slowing.
âSee?â Sillexa muttered. âThey hear us. We slow down, they stack.â
Krystal shuddered. âLike fucking ants.â
The van rumbled on.
In the back, Paige and Bones were their own small universe.
They were curled together on the narrow bench, knees tangled, Bonesâ back against the cold metal wall while Paige fit herself into the space like it had been made for her. Paigeâs head rested on Bonesâ chest now, ear pressed right over her heart, listening like it was proof of life.
Bones traced lazy patterns along Paigeâs arm, thumb brushing over goosebumped skin. Her touch was careful, reverent, like she was afraid to startle something fragile back into pieces.
Paige sniffed softly. âYouâre warm,â she murmured.
Bones huffed a quiet laugh. âThatâs because Iâm alive. Shocking, I know.â
Paige tilted her head just enough to look up at her, eyes still red but brighter now. âDonât joke like that.â
âIâm not joking,â Bones said, lips twitching. âIâm bragging.â
Paige pressed her face back into Bonesâ chest with a breathy, almost hysterical laugh. âGod. I really thought I was hallucinating you.â
âRude,â Bones said gently. âIâd haunt you better than that.â
Paige smiled despite herself, fingers curling into Bonesâ shirt. âYouâd be a terrible ghost.â
âIâd knock things over constantly,â Bones agreed. âJust to be annoying.â
They fell quiet again, the vanâs vibrations rocking them gently.
Outside, the road dipped into a long stretch of dual carriageway. A wrecked lorry lay jack-knifed across one lane, its cargo spilled open boxes of bottled water scattered like bones. Walkers wandered between them, some crouched, some gnawing on nothing, some just⊠standing, as if waiting.
Sillexa slowed just enough to edge around them.
âFuel,â she muttered again, softer this time. âWeâre going to have to risk it.â
Krystal nodded. âYeah. And when we do, itâll be loud. Smelly. Obvious.â
Sillexaâs jaw tightened. âWhich means we canât stay long.â
In the back, Paige shifted, frowning slightly. âYou think theyâll follow us?â
Bones answered before anyone else could. âThey always do. Just depends how many notice.â
Paige sighed. âCool. Love that.â
Bones pressed a kiss into her hair. âWeâve survived worse.â
Paige snorted weakly. âHave we? Because I feel like thatâs objectively untrue.â
Bones smiled against her hair anyway.
Outside, the sun dipped lower, casting everything in that horrible golden light that made blood shine and shadows stretch too far. The van cut through it, loud and vulnerable and very, very alive.
Chai didnât collapse all at once.
That was the worst part of it.
She unraveled slowly, like a body that hadnât yet received the message that it was already lost.
At first it was just the way she lagged half a step behind whenever they stopped. The way her feet dragged, scuffing the asphalt. The way she leaned heavier into anyone who tried to steady her, apologising breathlessly every time.
âIâm sorry,â she kept saying. âIâm justâgive me a second. Sorry. Iâm okay.â
She wasnât.
Sillexa noticed the smell first.
Not rot, not yet, but blood, coppery and wrong, layered beneath sweat and fear. Chaiâs breathing had turned wet, each inhale catching like something was bubbling where it shouldnât be. Her skin had taken on a greyish cast, pallid under the grime, and her pupils were blown wide, unfocused.
Sillexa met Krystalâs eyes across the front seats.
Krystal didnât need to say it.
They both knew.
They drove anyway.
The petrol station appeared like a mirage at the edge of the road, two pumps still standing, the forecourt littered with abandoned cars and bodies that had long since stopped pretending to be people. Walkers clustered there in numbers that made Sillexaâs stomach drop. Fifteen, maybe twenty. Some wandering. Some still. All of them close enough to hear the engine.
âWe canât clear that,â Krystal whispered.
âWe donât have a choice,â Sillexa replied, already slowing. âWeâre running on fumes.â
Krystal swallowed, eyes flicking to Chai as she stumbled against the vanâs side when they stopped.
A horrible, unthinkable thought slid into the space between them.
âWhat ifââ Krystal started, then stopped, face twisting. âWhat if we⊠used her?â
Sillexaâs hands went numb on the wheel.
âI know,â Krystal rushed, voice shaking. âI know itâs fucked. I justâsheâs already bit, Lex. Sheâs slowing us down. If weâif we let her draw them offââ
âNo,â Sillexa said immediately. âNo. Weâre not doing that.â
The fight was brutal and fast and loud, knives flashing, gunshots cracking the air like broken bones. Walkers fell hard, skulls splitting, bodies jerking in that horrible half-alive way. Paige stayed close to Bones, trembling but focused, stabbing when she had to, crying quietly every time something crunched under her blade.
They cleared enough.
Barely.
They grabbed fuel, water, anything they could carry, but the noise had already done its damage. Shapes began to appear at the edges of the forecourt, staggering toward them, drawn by the gunshots and the screaming metal of dying engines.
âBack to the van!â Sillexa yelled.
They ran.
Chai tried to keep up. She didnât make it.
Her legs buckled halfway there, knees slamming into the concrete hard enough to crack teeth together. She cried out softly, more surprised than hurt, palms scraping red as she tried to push herself back up.
âI canâI can get up,â she said, voice slurred. âI just needââ
Krystal grabbed her under the arms, hauling her forward, but Chaiâs weight sagged dead and heavy. She coughed again, deep this time, and blood spilled freely from her mouth, dark and thick.
Paige screamed her name.
Bones dragged Paige back as Sillexa slammed the side door open, shoving Krystal inside.
Chai reached the van at last, fingers clawing at the doorframe.
âPlease,â she sobbed, finally terrified now. âPlease donâtâplease, I donât feel goodâI think Iâm sickâI just need helpââ
Sillexa slammed the door shut.
The sound echoed like a gunshot.
Chai stared at the metal in disbelief, hands flattening against it.
âLex?â she cried. âKrystal? Whyâwhy did you close it?â
Krystal broke down sobbing inside the van, pounding the wall weakly with her fists.
âOPEN IT,â Paige screamed. âOPEN ITâSHEâS STILL ALIVEââ
Sillexaâs hands shook violently on the wheel.
âIâm sorry,â she whispered. âIâm so fucking sorry.â
Chai began to scream.
High, desperate, tearing sounds that shredded the air as walkers closed in, drawn by her voice like a beacon. She beat on the van with both hands now, sobbing, begging, sliding down to her knees.
âI donât want to die,â she cried. âPleaseâI donâtâI donât understandâwhat did I doââ
Sillexa couldnât drive.
She just sat there, frozen, as the first walker reached Chai.
Just one. It was slow. Almost gentle.
It grabbed a fistful of Chaiâs hair and yanked her head back. Chai screamed, hands flying to its wrists, fingers scrabbling uselessly as its teeth sank into her jaw with a wet, cracking sound.
She didnât die quickly.
The walker tore sideways, ripping her cheek open, skin peeling away like fabric. Chai gargled, blood pouring freely as she tried to scream again, the sound collapsing into choking, bubbling sobs.
She looked at the van.
At them.
Her eyes begged even as her mouth could no longer form words.
The walker bit again, into her throat this time, and Chai convulsed violently, body arching as it ripped out something vital. Blood sprayed across the concrete in bright, obscene arcs.
Sillexa finally slammed her foot down.
The van lurched forward as Chai was dragged out of view, her body collapsing bonelessly beneath the walker as others began to close in.
Paige sobbed hysterically, screaming into Bonesâ chest as Bones held her so tightly it hurt.
Krystal slid down her seat, hands over her mouth, making broken, animal sounds.
Sillexa drove.
She didnât look back.
And somewhere behind them, Chai died alone, soft and kind to the very end, while the world kept moving forward without mercy
There was nothing left to do but drive.
No destination, no plan beyond the thin, desperate hope that somewhere ahead there might be quieter roads, fewer bodies, a place that hadnât yet been swallowed whole. Sillexa kept the van moving like stopping might let the grief catch up, like if the wheels slowed, Chaiâs screams would finally reach them.
The roads betrayed them again and again.
One turn opened onto a high street clogged wall-to-wall with walkers, bodies pressed so tightly together they swayed as one mass, a living, no, unliving thing. Sillexa swore and wrenched the wheel, reversing hard, tyres screaming. Another road dipped into an underpass where walkers clustered thick beneath the echoing concrete, heads snapping up in eerie unison as the engine noise bounced off the walls.
âNope. Nope, nope, nope,â Krystal muttered, rubbing her face hard. âAbsolutely the fuck not.â
They rerouted. Again. And again.
Every detour burned fuel they didnât have.
The van smelled like blood and fear and hot metal. No one spoke for a long time. The only sounds were the engine, the scrape of tyres on broken asphalt, and Paigeâs quiet, exhausted breathing as she clung to Bones in the back like an anchor in open water.
Eventually, it was Krystal who broke the silence.
âEveryone check,â she said flatly. âNow.â
It was automatic. Muscle memory already.
Sleeves shoved up. Collars pulled down. Hands shaking as they checked arms, necks, ribs, anywhere teeth might have found flesh in the chaos. Sillexa twisted awkwardly in her seat so Krystal could check her shoulder. Krystal lifted her shirt without comment, exposing bruises blooming dark and ugly across her side.
âNothing,â Krystal said after a moment. âYou?â
Sillexa nodded. âClear.â
In the back, Bones gently guided Paigeâs hands away from her own chest and checked her instead, slow and careful, thumbs brushing over skin already marked with scrapes and fingerprints.
Paige nodded, eyes glassy. âI know. I just⊠needed to see.â
Bones checked herself last, quick, efficient, then sat back, exhaling shakily.
No one mentioned Chai. Not at first.
It crept in sideways, the way guilt always did.
Krystal scoffed suddenly, harsh and brittle. âShe shouldâve told us.â
Sillexa didnât respond immediately, but when she did, her voice was tight. âYeah. She should have.â
âShe knew,â Krystal went on, words tumbling faster now, like if she didnât keep talking sheâd scream. âShe fucking knew she was bit. That cough? The nausea? She lied.â
Paige flinched slightly at that, fingers tightening in Bonesâ shirt.
Bones said nothing, jaw clenched.
Sillexa nodded, swallowing hard. âShe put us all at risk.â
The words tasted wrong in her mouth, but she said them anyway. Said them because it was easier than saying we left her to die.
Krystal leaned her head back against the seat, staring at the ceiling. âWe didnât have a choice.â
In the back, Paige pressed her face deeper into Bonesâ chest, voice muffled. âShe was scared.â
Bones closed her eyes.
âI know,â she said softly. âBut that doesnât mean she didnât lie.â
They clung to that. The lie. The betrayal. Anything that made it feel less like murder by omission.
Outside, the world continued to rot.
They passed a school where walkers stood clustered at the gates, backpacks still hanging from skeletal shoulders. A petrol station burned in the distance, flames licking the sky, smoke curling thick and black. Somewhere far off, gunfire echoed, three sharp cracks, then silence.
Sillexa drove.
She didnât know where they were going anymore. Only that stopping felt impossible. Only that if she slowed long enough to think, she might fall apart completely.
In the back, Bones pressed a kiss to Paigeâs hair.
âWeâll find somewhere,â she murmured, more promise than certainty.
Paige nodded weakly, eyes staring past the metal wall of the van at nothing at all.
They kept driving.
Through blocked roads and empty stretches and the long, suffocating aftermath of survival, where the danger didnât stop, it just changed shape.
And behind them, somewhere on the road they would never take again, Chai was gone.
And the silence she left behind was louder than any scream.
Time stopped behaving properly.
Days slid into one another without ceremony, measured less by sunrises than by fuel gauges, hunger, and the way exhaustion crept into their bones. The road became their whole world, miles of cracked tarmac, hedgerows gone feral, towns half-swallowed by silence. Sometimes they drove for hours without seeing a single walker. Other times theyâd crest a hill and have to detour immediately, the road below clogged with bodies standing shoulder to shoulder like they were waiting for something to begin.
Those days were the worst.
But slowly, slowly, the noise thinned.
It was as if the world had exhaled and not bothered to breathe back in.
They slept in lay-bys and behind abandoned warehouses, rotating watches that grew lazier with each quiet night. The van became less of an escape pod and more of a home again, cluttered, smelling faintly of petrol and damp clothes and the comforting familiarity of them.
Grief didnât leave. It just stopped screaming.
It sat with them instead, like an extra passenger no one acknowledged.
And then, one night, there was space for something else.
Bones was driving.
It was late, deep blue sky bruising into black, stars faint but visible once they were far enough from the cityâs dead glow. The road was empty in that eerie, almost sacred way that made it feel like they were the only people left in the world.
Paige sat in the passenger seat, legs tucked up sideways, bare feet on the dash despite Bonesâ earlier protests.
âYouâre gonna get decapitated if we crash,â Bones muttered, eyes on the road.
Paige grinned lazily. âBold of you to assume I wouldnât look hot doing it.â
Bones snorted despite herself.
Paige leaned closer, chin propped on her hand, watching Bonesâ profile like she was studying something precious. The tension had drained out of her face in the low light, no tight jaw, no thousand-yard stare. Just her. Soft. Real.
âYouâre a really good driver,â Paige said, voice quiet.
Bones glanced at her. âYeah?â
âYeah,â Paige smiled. âVery competent. Very hot.â
Bones rolled her eyes, ears going pink. âYouâre insufferable.â
Paige hummed. âAnd yet.â
Bones reached over briefly, squeezing Paigeâs knee. âI missed you.â
The words landed heavy and gentle all at once.
Paige didnât joke that time. She just reached for Bonesâ hand and held it, fingers lacing together like they were relearning how.
In the back, Sillexa watched them through the gap between the seats, a faint smile tugging at her mouth before she looked away and pretended very hard not to be emotional about it.
The days found a rhythm after that.
One afternoon, Sillexa and Bones stood at the open back of the van arguing over inventory like it was a sacred art.
âWe have three tins of beans,â Sillexa said flatly. âWe donât need more beans.â
Bones crossed her arms. âBeans are protein.â
âSo is literally everything else.â
Paige piped up from inside the van, holding a packet of biscuits. âI vote beans because they make Bones grumpy.â
Bones shot her a look. âYouâre on thin ice.â
Krystal, crouched beside a crate of supplies, snorted. âYou say that like she hasnât been skating on it since day one.â
Paige leaned over and kissed her cheek. âShe is.â
Bones sighed, but she didnât move away.
Another day, quiet enough to feel suspicious, Sillexa and Krystal took the risk.
The town was small, almost pretty in its abandonment. No bodies in the street. No smashed windows. Just leaves skittering across the road and the distant creak of a sign swinging in the wind.
âWeâll be quick,â Sillexa said, already scanning rooftops.
Krystal nodded. âIn and out. Ten minutes.â
Bones watched them go, jaw tight. Paige slipped her hand into Bonesâ without comment.
âTheyâll be fine,â Paige murmured.
Bones exhaled. âI know. I just hate waiting.â
They waited anyway.
They sat on the hood of the van, legs dangling, sharing the last of a chocolate bar like it was something sacred.
Paige leaned her head on Bonesâ shoulder. âYou know,â she said thoughtfully, âthis is probably the most domestic weâve ever been.â
Bones laughed softly. âZombie apocalypse really brings out the commitment.â
Paige smiled, eyes closing. âI like us like this.â
Bones looked down at her, at the curve of her mouth, the quiet trust in her posture, and felt something warm and terrifying bloom in her chest.
âMe too,â she said.
When Sillexa and Krystal returned, arms full, triumphant and bickering, the relief was immediate and loud.
For a little while, they were almost normal.
Not happy. Not safe.
But alive. Together. And still capable of laughter.
Which, in the end, felt like a kind of miracle.
They ended up on the roof because there was nowhere else to breathe.
The van sat tucked behind a line of trees just off the road, engine long cooled, the night spread wide and quiet around them. No walkers. No distant screams. Just crickets and wind and the soft tick of metal contracting as the day finally let go of its heat.
Paige climbed up first, easy and fluid as if the world hadnât ended, then stretched out along the roof like she owned it. Bones followed more cautiously, grumbling under her breath as she hauled herself up and sat beside her, legs dangling over the edge.
For a moment, they just lay there. Stars overhead. Silence big enough to feel unreal.
Paige turned her head, smiling slowly. The kind of smile that meant trouble.
âYou know,â she said lightly, âIâve been very patient.â
Bones snorted. âHave you?â
âPainfully so,â Paige replied, dramatic, hand flopping over her chest. âDo you know how long itâs been since you so much as looked at me like you wanted to misbehave?â
Bones glanced at her sideways. âWeâve been sleeping in a van with two other people. During the apocalypse.â
Paige hummed. âExcuses.â
Bones laughed quietly, shaking her head. âYouâre ridiculous.â
Paige rolled onto her side, propping herself up on one elbow, blonde hair spilling down her shoulder. âAm I? Or are you just avoiding the fact that youâve been doing absolutely nothing about how hot I look lately?â
Bonesâ eyes flicked over her before she could stop herself. Paige caught it instantly.
âOh,â Paige purred. âThere it is.â
Bones groaned. âYou are insufferable.â
âMmhm,â Paige teased, scooting closer, her knee brushing Bonesâ thigh, âyou havenât moved away.â
Bones swallowed. âPaige.â
Paige leaned in just enough that their noses nearly touched. Close enough to feel Bonesâ breath hitch.
âI miss you,â Paige said softly, teasing edge dulled just a little. âI miss us.â
Bonesâ voice came out rougher than she meant it to. âI know. But now is not exactlyââ
Paige kissed her.
Not hard. Not rushed.
Just a slow, deliberate press of lips that felt like a question more than anything else.
Bones froze for half a second, then melted.
Her hands came up automatically, settling at Paigeâs waist like muscle memory, thumbs brushing against warm skin through fabric. Paige smiled against her mouth, pulling back just enough to nip gently at Bonesâ bottom lip before kissing her again, slower this time.
âYouâre very tense,â Paige murmured between kisses. âAll that brooding. Very unattractive.â
Bones huffed a breathless laugh. âYouâre trying to get murdered on the roof of a car.â
âAm I?â Paige said innocently, straddling Bonesâ lap in one smooth movement. âOr am I just encouraging you to relax?â
Bonesâ hands tightened at her hips. âPaige.â
Paige leaned down again, kissing along the corner of Bonesâ mouth, her jaw, just close enough to drive her mad without quite giving her what she wanted. She pulled back, smiling sweetly.
âYou could stop me,â she whispered.
Bones stared up at her, jaw clenched, eyes dark. âYouâre doing this on purpose.â
âObviously,â Paige said brightly. âIâm needy. And bored. And you havenât so much as pinned me against a wall in weeks.â
Bones laughed under her breath, shaking her head. âWe have no alone time.â
Paige kissed her again, slow, lingering, maddening. âWe do right now.â
She pulled back just far enough to grin, thumb brushing Bonesâ lip where sheâd bitten it earlier.
âUnless,â Paige added softly, teasing, âyouâre too distracted.â
Bones exhaled sharply, forehead dropping to Paigeâs shoulder as she laughed. âYouâre impossible.â
Paige wrapped her arms around her, smiling into her hair. âAnd you love me.â
Bonesâ arms tightened around her in response. âYeah,â she said quietly. âI really do.â
They stayed there like that for a while, kissing, laughing softly, pretending for just a moment that the world wasnât broken beyond repair.
Just two people on the roof of a car.
Alive.
Together.
And desperately, beautifully human.
By the time two weeks blurred past, the truth settled in quietly and without mercy.
They werenât out of supplies.
They were about to be.
It crept up on them in small ways, the way Sillexa lingered a second longer over the crates, mentally rearranging tins to make them last. The way Paige started breaking biscuits in half without comment. The way Bones stopped offering extra portions entirely. Fuel was worse. The gauge dipped faster than any of them liked to admit, each mile driven a small, invisible cost.
Eventually, Krystal said it out loud.
âWe need a proper run,â she said one evening, voice steady but tired. âNot scraps. Not âgrab what we can carryâ. A real one.â
No one argued.
They drove until the towns grew smaller, until the buildings slouched instead of loomed, until the streets felt less watched. When they finally rolled into a place that looked quiet enough to gamble on, it was late afternoon, the sun already slanting low.
It wasnât untouched. Nothing was. But it wasnât teeming either.
Shops stood open-mouthed and empty. A newsagent with its windows intact. A chemist half-looted but not gutted. No movement in the street. No sound beyond wind and distant birds.
Sillexa cut the engine. The silence felt oddly loud.
âOkay,â she said, turning in her seat. âWe do this clean.â
They stood by the van, doors open, laying everything out like ritual. Two guns. Four varying blades. Backpacks checked and rechecked. Radios, useless, but comforting to carry anyway.
âWe split,â Sillexa continued. âTwo and two.â
Bones glanced instinctively toward Paige, then stopped herself.
âBones with Krystal,â Sillexa said. âPaige with me.â
Paige opened her mouth, then shut it again. She knew this logic. Bones and Krystal were efficient, blunt, good under pressure. Paige and Sillexa moved like extensions of each other, years of muscle memory and quiet communication built long before the world ended.
âTwo halves of the town,â Sillexa went on. âWe take opposite sides. No heroics. If it looks bad, you leave it.â
Krystal nodded. âWe bolt back here if anything goes wrong.â
âIf one team doesnât make it back by sundown,â Bones added quietly, âthe other waits. Engine off. Lights off.â
Paige swallowed. âAnd if neither of usââ
âWe donât do âifâ,â Sillexa cut in gently. She squeezed Paigeâs shoulder once, grounding. âWe just do it.â
They armed up.
Bones checked her knife, slid it back into its sheath with practiced ease. Krystal adjusted the strap of her backpack, rolling her shoulders like she was gearing up for a workout instead of a potential death sentence.
Paige stepped close to Bones before they separated, fingers brushing her wrist.
âBe careful,â Paige murmured.
Bones smiled faintly. âAlways am.â
âLiar,â Paige said, but she leaned in anyway, pressing a quick, fierce kiss to Bonesâ mouth, too fast to linger, too desperate not to.
Bones watched her walk away with Sillexa, jaw tight, then turned sharply toward Krystal.
âReady?â Krystal asked.
âNo,â Bones said honestly.
They split.
Footsteps echoed too loud in the empty streets. Every doorway felt like a mouth waiting to speak. Paige and Sillexa moved fast and quiet, slipping into shops, grabbing what mattered, food, medicine, batteries, hands working in silence broken only by the soft clink of glass and metal.
Bones and Krystal cleared buildings methodically, backs to each other, checking corners, listening harder than felt reasonable. Every shadow twitched. Every sound threatened to become teeth.
Paige didnât scream when it happened.
That was the first thing Sillexa noticed later, when she replayed it over and over in her head, how quiet it was. How ordinary.
They were moving fast through the back of a half-collapsed hardware shop, bags already heavy, the air thick with dust and rust. Shelves leaned at unsafe angles, tools scattered like dropped bones. Paige was behind Sillexa, humming under her breath, a sound so soft it barely existed.
âGrab the batteries and weâre out,â Sillexa whispered.
Paige nodded and stepped sideways.
And her foot went through the floor. Not all the way. Just enough.
Her ankle caught on something hidden beneath the rot, twisted nail, a bent metal bracket, Sillexa never figured out which. There was a sharp, ugly crack, more felt than heard, and Paige pitched forward with a startled gasp.
âFuckâLexââ
She hit the ground hard, palms scraping, breath knocked clean out of her lungs. Pain bloomed white-hot up her leg, immediate and total, the kind that didnât ask permission.
Sillexa was at her side instantly. âPaigeâPaige, donât move.â
Paige tried anyway.
The second she put weight on it, her face drained of colour.
âNope,â she said faintly, laugh breaking at the edges. âThatâs⊠thatâs bad.â
Sillexa crouched, hands already gentle but urgent, fingers brushing Paigeâs ankle. It was swelling fast, skin tight and angry, the joint sitting at just the wrong angle to be reassuring.
âCan you walk?â Sillexa asked, though she already knew the answer.
Paige swallowed hard. âI can⊠move.â
They didnât have time to debate.
A sound echoed from somewhere deeper in the building, a low, curious moan. Then another. Drawn by the noise, by the scent of living bodies.
Sillexa hauled Paige up, arm slung tight around her waist.
âWeâre leaving,â she said. âNow.â
They moved.
Slowly.
Too slowly.
Paigeâs injured leg dragged no matter how hard she tried to lift it, foot scuffing uselessly along the floor. Each step sent a jolt of pain through her body sharp enough to make her vision blur. Her gait went wrong almost immediately, uneven, jerky, one side lagging behind the other.
It was horrifyingly familiar.
âI know,â Paige whispered, voice thick with fear and something close to disbelief. âI know how I look. Donât say it.â
Sillexa didnât. She couldnât.
They burst out into the street, sunlight blinding after the dark. The town was quieter than it had any right to be, but not empty.
A walker turned its head at the sound of them.
Then another. Paige tried to hurry. Her leg refused.
She stumbled, caught herself, dragged onward again, breathing harsh and panicked. From a distance, from the corner of the eye , she looked wrong. The stagger. The hitch. The way one foot scraped.
Sillexa felt sick.
âEyes up,â Sillexa murmured fiercely, half to Paige, half to herself. âJust keep moving. Iâve got you.â
They crossed the road inch by inch, Paigeâs weight heavy against Sillexaâs side, Sillexaâs heart hammering hard enough to bruise. Walkers began to notice, not rushing yet, but turning, orienting, drawn by movement that didnât quite match the living.
Paige saw it happen.
âTheyâre faster than meââ Her voice broke. âLex.â
Paigeâs breathing went shallow. âIf Bones sees me like thisââ
âStop,â Sillexa snapped, sharper than she meant to. She softened immediately. âYouâre not dying. Not like this.â
They rounded the corner toward where the van should be, Paige dragging herself along, pain and terror blurring together until she could barely tell them apart.
Behind them, the moans grew louder.
And Paige limped on, half-running, half-staggering, moving through the world in a way that was suddenly, terrifyingly indistinguishable from the dead.
The van door slammed shut hard enough to rattle the panels.
Sillexa locked it, slid the bolt home with shaking hands, then immediately turned back to Paige.
âSit. Sitâdonât move, donât put weight on it,â she said, already half-panicked, half-commanding.
Paige was slumped against the built-in bench in the back, face grey, sweat slicking her hair to her temples. Her leg was stretched out awkwardly in front of her, boot still on, laces half-undone from where sheâd tried, and failed, to get it off on the way in.
Sillexa grabbed the crowbar by the door. âIâm going to clear them. Donât.. donât touch it yet.â
Paige nodded weakly. âBe quick.â
Sillexa didnât trust herself to say anything else. She yanked the door open and was gone, the sounds outside turning ugly fast, wet impacts, sharp breaths, the dull crack of bone. Paige forced herself not to listen. She focused on her foot instead.
Her fingers trembled as she finished unlacing the boot.
The smell hit first.
Metallic. Rotting. Not quite blood, not quite rust, something sour and wrong.
âOh god,â Paige whispered.
She peeled the boot off slowly, teeth clenched, every millimetre of movement sending fresh spikes of pain through her ankle. When the boot finally came free, it stuck for a second, tugging at her sock.
When the sock came with it, she gagged.
The fabric was darkened through, stiff in places. Blood, yes, but not just blood. There was something yellowed at the toe, something wet and stringy clinging to the fibres.
Paige swallowed hard and rolled the sock off.
Her foot was a mess.
The ankle was already badly swollen, skin stretched shiny and angry, bruising blooming deep purple and blue around the joint. But that wasnât the worst of it.
The sole of her foot, just behind the ball, was punctured clean through.
The nail hadnât just scraped her. It had gone in.
There was a ragged hole, the skin split unevenly, edges torn instead of clean, as if the flesh had resisted and lost. Blood oozed steadily, darker now, pooling beneath her heel. The wound gaped slightly when she moved her toes, revealing flashes of raw tissue beneath, pink, red, too exposed, too inside to be outside.
Paige felt dizzy.
âOh myâLex,â she called weakly.
Sillexa burst back in a moment later, breathless, crowbar slick. She slammed the door shut and locked it again before turning.
And froze.
âFuck,â she breathed. âPaige. Paige, donât look at it.â
Paige laughed hysterically, tears spilling over. âBit late for that.â
Sillexa dropped to her knees in front of her, panic flickering across her face before she shoved it down hard. She grabbed the first aid kit, hands shaking as she tore it open.
âOkay. Okay. Nail puncture,â she muttered, more to herself than Paige. âDeep puncture. Risk of infectionâfuck, Paige, this is bad timing.â
âNo shit,â Paige whimpered.
Sillexa poured water from a bottle over the wound.
Paige screamed.
Her whole body arched violently, a sound ripping out of her that didnât sound human at all. She clawed at the bench, nails scraping, heel jerking instinctively away.
âPaige! Paige, I need you stillââ
âI canât, I canât, it burns, Lex, it burnsââ
The water washed fresh blood free, revealing the depth of it. The puncture track was visible now, a narrow channel disappearing into the muscle, angry and inflamed already. Tiny flecks of dirt and rust clung stubbornly inside, ground deep by her weight when sheâd stepped down.
Sillexaâs stomach rolled.
âOkay. Okay. Iâm sorry. Iâm so fucking sorry,â she said, voice breaking despite herself. She soaked gauze and pressed gently.
Paige sobbed, loud and raw, body twisting away. âPleaseâplease stopââ
âIf I donât clean it, itâll get infected,â Sillexa said desperately. âPaige, this kind of woundâtetanus, sepsisâpeople lose feet to this. I need to get it clean.â
She dabbed again, firmer this time, trying to flush debris out.
Paige screamed until her voice went hoarse, hands flying up to cover her mouth as she choked on the sound. Tears streamed down her face unchecked, her leg shaking uncontrollably.
âOh god,â Paige gasped. âI can feel it inside me. I can feel itââ
Sillexa saw it too, the way the tissue around the wound was already swelling inward, the skin angry and hot. She wrapped the foot carefully once she was sure it was as clean as she could manage, layers of gauze and pressure bandage, hands gentle but urgent.
âOkay. Okay. Thatâs all I can do right now,â she whispered, tying it off. âYou donât put weight on this. At all. You hear me?â
Paige nodded weakly, shaking, tears soaking her shirt.
Sillexa leaned back on her heels, chest heaving, and finally let herself look at Paige properly, really look.
Pale. Sweaty. In pain. Bleeding.
And still breathing.
Sillexa reached out and rested her forehead against Paigeâs knee, careful of the injury, eyes squeezing shut for just a second longer than she could afford.
âBones needs to hurry,â she whispered. âPlease fucking hurry.â
Bones almost tripped over a shopping basket and laughed so hard she had to grab the shelf to steady herself.
âOh my god,â Krystal snorted, crouched in the next aisle over, âyou are going to get us killed one day and itâs going to be the dumbest way possible.â
Bones grinned, absolutely unbothered. âYou love me.â
âI tolerate you,â Krystal said sweetly, shoving canned soup into her bag until it bulged. âBig difference.â
The little corner shop theyâd ducked into felt bizarrely⊠normal. Quiet. Sunlight slanting through dusty windows. No walkers banging at the doors. No blood smeared across the floor. Just shelves, half-emptied, like the apocalypse had politely waited its turn.
Bones popped up at the end of an aisle holding a box of cereal. âDo we think Paige would kill me if I ate this dry in the van?â
Krystal squinted at it. âThatâs got raisins in it. Sheâd kill you for choosing it.â
Krystal barked a laugh. âYouâre fucking delusional.â
They moved easily together, a rhythm that came from years of knowing exactly how close was too close, how loud was too loud. Every so often one of them would jump at a creak or a shadow and the other would immediately take the piss out of them for it.
Bones froze when a can rolled off a shelf.
Krystal didnât even look up. âRelax, Rambo. Itâs baked beans.â
Bones flipped her off and kept moving.
They met in the middle of the store again, dumping their finds onto the counter to reorganise, food, batteries, painkillers, lighters. Bones was humming under her breath, rifling through a display near the register when something bright caught her eye.
She paused.
Then slowly, reverently, she pulled it out.
A ring pop.
Cherry red, still in its plastic, slightly dusty but otherwise perfect.
Bonesâ face lit up.
âOh my god,â she whispered, like sheâd just found treasure.
Krystal looked over, immediately clocked it, and burst out laughing. âYou cannot be serious.â
Bones turned it over in her fingers, smiling to herself. âSheâs gonna love this.â
Krystal leaned against the counter, cackling. âYou are in the middle of the end of the world and youâre hoarding novelty candy for your girlfriend.â
âItâs symbolic,â Bones said defensively, slipping it carefully into her pocket. âItâs romantic.â
âItâs a sugar ring,â Krystal said. âYou gonna propose in the van like, âSorry about the apocalypse babe, hereâs diabetesâ?â
Bones shoved her shoulder. âYouâre such a dickhead.â
This is a big section as an apology bc this will not be ready by this weekend as I thought it might đ„Č but hopefully this is ok for now!!
The corner of the book still protruded from the cushion, a thorn in this otherwise rosy picture. Bones had shoved it away, as if ⊠as if trying to hide it.
âWhat are you reading?â Paige asked, as nonchalantly as she could.
She did not expect the question to prompt a flare of Bones' nostrils, a flicker in her eyes.Â
âNothing. It's not important.â
Her voice was frantic, frayed, a thread pulling loose on a tightly-stitched corset.
Paige grasped at it, tugging. âWhat about your plants? Your healing plants - was the book on those?â
Bonesâ eyes darkened.Â
âWhere are all your plants, anyway?â Paige turned back and forth, noticing for the first time in her hazy reverie that the room was no longer full of all the things she had seen last time - no books, no paintings, no curios - but a plain, stark, enormously lonely space.
âIt was a ridiculous hobby. One I needed to stop.â
Paige span around at the voice she didn't recognise, coming from Bones' mouth.Â
âBut ⊠so what do you do for fun, now?â
Bones gave a contented purr. âThe thrill of the hunt is my fun now.â
The crooked smile and the fiery intensity in her gaze hooked onto Paige, as if daring her to comment. And for a few moments Paige struggled to focus on anything else but her eyes, kaleidoscopic fractals of brown and red drawing Paige into them, starting to twirl her mind around in dizzying pirouettes.
But she forced herself to blink, to clear her head.
âYou used to love to read. And your plants, too. Still must do, that sort of thing doesn't go away.âÂ
Bones straightened up, her smile fading. âAll that matters is the strength and power of the clan. I don't have time for such vanities as growing plants.â
Paige spluttered, a confused laugh bubbling from her diaphragm. âWhat are you talking about? You said you loved your plants - you said you healed people all your life -â
âI was naive. Holding onto something from the past, to someone who - who doesn't exist anymore. Someone who hasn't existed in two hundred years.â