Lily

"Move, now!"

The voice was a whip-crack of authority, cutting through the low groans of the undead. I froze, mid-step, clutching the box of crackers I’d risked everything to find.

A shadow loomed behind me—too fast, too close. The zombie’s breath, fetid and hot, grazed my neck just as a blade whistled through the air.

The sickening crunch of steel meeting flesh was followed by silence.

I turned, my breath catching as I saw the headless body slump to the ground. Standing just feet away was a man—broad shoulders, blood-streaked arms, and an axe glinting in his hand like something out of a nightmare.

He yanked the axe free from the zombie’s neck with practiced ease, his cold, sharp eyes pinning me in place. "You’re either incredibly brave or painfully stupid," he said, his tone dripping with disdain.

I swallowed hard, my voice barely above a whisper. "I… I didn’t know it was following me."

"No kidding," he muttered, wiping the blade against his dark cargo pants. He looked me over, taking in my dirt-smudged face, the too-small backpack slung over my shoulder, and the crackers I was still clutching. "What the hell are you even doing here? This place is crawling with them."

"I was hungry," I admitted, my voice trembling.

His lips curled into a humorless smirk. "Hungry? Well, congratulations. You almost became dinner."

"Thank you for—"

"Save it," he snapped, cutting me off. "If you’re dumb enough to wander into a death trap, don’t expect anyone to save your ass again."

I flinched at his harsh tone, but before I could respond, he turned his back to me and started walking toward the store’s shattered exit.

"Wait!" I called, my feet moving before I could think.

He paused, glancing over his shoulder. "What now?"

"Where are you going?"

"Why?" He raised an eyebrow, his voice mocking. "Hoping for a chaperone?"

"No," I said quickly, then hesitated. "I just… don’t want to be alone."

His laugh was low and mirthless. "Newsflash, sweetheart: in this world, you’re always alone."

I bit my lip, trying to muster some courage. "Then why did you save me?"

His expression hardened, and for a moment, I thought he wouldn’t answer. Finally, he said, "I didn’t save you. I killed a zombie. Don’t confuse the two." Started leaving.

"Wait!" I called again, running to catch up.

He stopped abruptly, spinning around so fast I nearly crashed into him. His hand shot out, gripping my wrist tightly.

"Let me make one thing clear," he growled, his face inches from mine. His eyes, cold and calculating, bore into me with an intensity that made my heart race. "I’m not your friend. I’m not your protector. If you follow me, you’re on your own. Got it?"

I nodded, my voice caught in my throat.

"Good." He released my wrist, but the imprint of his grip lingered, burning like a brand.

**********************************

Later,on the road.

Despite his warning, I trailed after him, keeping a cautious distance. He didn’t tell me his name, but I didn’t need to ask to know what kind of man he was. Ruthless. Dangerous. The kind of person who survived by not caring about anyone but himself.

"Stop dragging your feet," he barked without turning around.

"I’m not," I said, though I was struggling to keep up with his long strides.

"You’re slowing me down."

"Then leave me behind," I shot back, surprising even myself with the bite in my voice.

He stopped abruptly, turning to face me. His eyes narrowed, and for a moment, I thought he might actually leave. Instead, he sighed, muttering something under his breath. "Fine. But keep your mouth shut and your hands to yourself."

When a faint scraping sound echoed through the street, my breath hitched. I froze, my heart pounding in my chest. Without thinking, I reached out, grabbing the back of his shirt.

He stopped abruptly, spinning around so fast I barely had time to react. His hand shot out, grabbing my wrist and pinning me against the cold brick wall of a nearby building.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" His voice was low and dangerous, his face inches from mine.

"I heard something," I whispered, my voice trembling.

"And your first instinct is to grab me?" His grip on my wrist tightened just enough to make me gasp, but his eyes... there was something in them I couldn't place. Frustration.

Concern. Fear?

"I'm sorry," I breathed, my chest rising and falling rapidly.

His eyes flicked down, following the movement. "Sorry doesn't keep you alive."

The air between us felt charged, heavy. I could feel the warmth of his breath on my skin, the tension rolling off him in waves. My heart raced for reasons that had nothing to do with the zombies.

"You're going to get us both killed," he murmured, his voice softer now but no less intense.

"I won't," I whispered, my voice barely audible.I bit my lip nervously.

His gaze dropped to my lips for the briefest moment before snapping back up to my eyes. He let go of my wrist abruptly, stepping back as if the proximity had burned him.

"Just stay out of my way," he muttered, running a hand through his dark hair.

Before I could respond, a loud crash echoed from the alleyway. I jumped, instinctively reaching for him again.

His hand caught mine before it could grab his shirt. "What did I just say?"

"It's just a mouse!" I whispered frantically

We stood there for what felt like an eternity, his hand still holding my hand. Finally, he stepped back, letting me go.

"Keep up," he said, his tone cold again. "And don’t touch me unless you want to lose that hand."

I nodded, falling into step behind him once more.