They are gone. Yaryu stares back at the collapsed van. It lay there wounded and abandoned. The children were nowhere to be seen, not even a single trace as if they had vanished. Her thoughts kept circling back and forth: the children. Orion, her nephew. How could she let this happen? She bites onto her lower lip, it's skin slowly peeling. She has failed. As an adult, teacher and guardian. She felt pathetic. 

"Orion." She mutters leaving the university grounds. Were they taken? Killed? Abducted? Or did they run away? But it's not safe, where would they go? If the undead get to the children... 

A sickening shiver churns her stomach. She sniffles swallowing back her guilt and broken heart. Anaki shifts, his burning cheek touching her nape. His breathing is shallow, labored, each rise and fall of his chest slower than the last. Time is running out for him, too. "His fever is worsening." Yaryu walks by the gates twisted and crumpled, their rusty bars bent inward like broken bones. Flakes of rust litter the ground, and leans crookedly, barely holding together, its hinges creaking as if in pain. Its silent moans press her aching heart, she continues forth.  

"Stay with me, Anaki," she mutters, though the boy remains still. She had dressed his head injury, but he needs immediate medical attention. Options run through her mind in a relentless loop. 

"Should I go to a hospital?" She looks about the alien city she has never before set foot in. Even if she heads to a hospital, would it be safe? Are there any survivors? There could be more infected at the hospital since it's a medical facility, most of the bitten were probably taken there before they were turned. It could be overflowing. Maybe a pharmaceutical? She tugs the heavy sack over her shoulder, these were the only resources she could scavenge. 

Her mind raced with each step, her breath shaky as the weight of Anaki and the provisions nearly buckle her knees. The quiet of the city gnaws at her senses—too quiet, the absence of life haunting. Every shadow, every distant creak could be something worse than what she dares imagine.  

Nighttime was around the corner, she needs to find shelter. 

Yaryu trudges forward, her body aches with the combined weight and bruises from the crash. Every muscle in her body screams for rest, but she knows she can't stop. Not yet. Not until they find a safe-point. 

She halts, gazing up at a boarded-up diner across the street. The broken glass and overturned tables give no illusion of safety, but at least it can cover them for the night. She crosses through a narrow alley, the only path leading to the shelter and is safe of any eyes. A low growl freezes her in place. Her heart skips, then races. Slowly, she turns her head. 

A body tumbles out from behind a trash bin, jerking with unnatural movements. Its eyes—cloudy, lifeless—lock onto her. A guttural hiss escapes its throat as it lurches forward, faster than she expected. 

"Shit," Yaryu dodges, panic flaring in her chest. Anaki stirs slightly on her back, but he remains unconscious, his fever raging. She can't drop him. She can't leave the provisions either. She has no choice. 

Her hand fumbles for the metal pipe Anaki would use, gripping it tightly as the infected charges. With her heart pounding in her ears, she swings wildly as it reaches her, but the blow barely grazes its shoulder. She can't go all out with the weights restricting her movements. The creature snarls, undeterred, lunging at her again. This time, its filthy fingers graze her arm, tearing at her sleeve. 

Yaryu stumbles back, nearly losing her balance. Anaki's weight pulls her down, her legs threatening to give way beneath her. She can hear the infected's ragged breaths, smell the rot clinging to its body. 

It leaps.

Yaryu, driven by sheer survival instinct, shifts her grip and thrusts the pipe forward, catching the infected in the chest. The creature gurgles, clawing at the metal, but she pushes with every ounce of strength she has left, shoving it back. 

It falters, crashing against a nearby wall, giving her a brief moment to regain her balance. Her arms are shaking, her vision blurred from the effort. She knows she can't keep this up. 

Without thinking, Yaryu slams the pipe down again, this time catching the infected in the side of the head. A sickening crack echoes in the empty street. The creature twitches, collapsing in a heap at her feet, stiff. Again. She mutters stabbing the pipe at the center this time. 

Breathing hard, Yaryu staggers back, eyes wide as she watches the body. Dead for good this time. Her chest heaves, and for a moment, she feels like she might collapse too. 

But there's no time. 

"Keep moving," she whispers to herself, glancing back at Anaki's still form. His fevered breaths are not getting any better. She picks up the provisions she dropped during the struggle, the weight feeling impossibly heavier now. 

With one last glance at the infected's body, Yaryu moves toward the diner, tears burning her heart. She didn't feel anything after killing it. Focus. Yaryu shifts her grip, pulling Anaki closer as she trudges toward the doorway, praying that whatever had come through this place was long gone. 

She steps inside; the stale air worsening her nausea. It reeks of rot and abandonment, but at least the windows face away from the main road, shielding them from prying eyes—or worse. 

Yaryu sets Anaki down gently, her hands shaking as she checks his fever again. "Damn it," she curses under her breath, wiping the sweat from his brow. She should be able to fix this. She has to. 

And yet, the gnawing guilt remains. I failed again. Her thoughts echo in the hollow silence of the diner. 

Followed by silent sobs. 

"You know," she began, her fingers sliding against one another as if to warm herself. "It's strange," her sapphire eyes glimmer under the distant city lights. Memories welling through her slowly like sands from a forgotten hourglass. "The reason I chose to be a teacher wasn't because of impact or passion. I needed a break." 

She chuckles as if the lonely breezes blew her sweet whispers. "Orion was only eight back then. I was a stranger of an aunt to him but he still reached out to me. He told me about taking it easy since the adults would slack off during their classes. I was speechless. Should I file a complaint?" Anaki shifts, then lies in more grieving silence. Yaryu continues, the lump in her throat eating away her words. "Instead I filed a form. Maybe if I hung around children like Orion, I would be able to move on. Forget my failures as an athlete." 

Her lips purse together, "but turns out I'm a failure as a teacher, too." Her figure sits in the shadows of the diner, aching for a response but only the ghosts of the abandoned walls visit her ears. 

She lets her head hang. "What am I even doing?" 

A low creak jolt energy bullets into her flesh, she yanks her out the hidden corner. Staring wide-eyed at the creeping shadow, there was a silhouette of a man. Thin with long arms. His footsteps pressing against the wooden planks and kicking aside the debris as if blind. 

Her fingers wrap around the metal pipe; it moved slower than the sweat beads rolling off her chin. 

It halts. 

Her breath held in her lungs, she wouldn't dare make the first move. "If you run into an infected hide," Anaki's warning dug its way into her. "Don't attack. Confidence can be fatal." 

"But." Yaryu mutters to herself, her eye glancing back at him. "I have to protect you." She slides the sack and covers over Anaki with her shoal like a tent. Convinced he'll be safe hidden, she crouches over the floor and crawls behind the counter. Her ears wince, it's closing in where Anaki is. He's alone. She can feel it. Lunging over the counter, Yaryu strikes it. 

It grabs her arm, she tumbles back pulling herself free. If it had reacted any sooner she would have died. Maybe this is foolish. No. Her mind shuts out all the voices. She must protect Anaki. She must keep him safe from these monsters. It's all their fault the world is in ruins. Their fault Orion and the children are missing. Anaki is in pain because of these monsters. A sob bites onto her bleeding lip. She huffs, heavy gasps pushing her body back and forth. Is she angry? Her hands were warm and shaking; she felt her temples throb. "I am angry." She tightens her fists, feeling the rage build inside her like a storm ready to unleash. 

The children are lost. She doesn't know if they are safe or alive. And Anaki is fighting for his life. It's all these bastards fault. She'll destroy every one of them. She won't hesitate to strike. 

She does. This time right across its jaw. The monster drops to the floor struggling to reach out. Panic and anger flare into her chest, it was holding a weapon. And she knew the smell well. Chlorine. She clenches her teeth, why are these bastards resorting to these types of methods now? Her veins pump her raging blood through her arms, they contract, and she jerks her arm forward. A clean strike right against it's head. 

Her eyes watch the puddle of blood well by her foot. Red. Bright red? Fear shoots through her, and she stumbles back, frightened by its touch. She clamps a hand over her mouth, trembling. "What have I done?" 

The intruder's body lay still beneath her touch, thin and dirty, drenched in its blood. But there were no signs of infection: no purple veins, no milky whites for eyes. Just a haunting stillness. Grabbing her hair in despair, she felt her a whirlpool swallow her, "I've killed someone." 

Her heartbeat drowned out every other sound as she grasps his shirt, her hand moving as if it had a mind of its own. Please no. Desperate, she checks for a pulse. Nothing. No breathing. Even his body warmth was fading. A sob escaped her lips, and she slumps forward, grasping the stranger's collar, mumbling over and over to him and to herself, "I am sorry. I am so sorry."