Chapter 7: The Quiet Before the Storm

The farmhouse was silent. In the dim light of dawn creeping through the cracks in the boarded-up windows, I lay awake, staring at the ceiling. My mind refused to rest, and every sound—every creak of the old house, every gust of wind outside—had me on edge. I kept expecting to hear the infected scratching at the walls, moaning, waiting to get in. But for now, there was only stillness.

Mia was asleep on the couch beside me, her breathing slow and steady. I was glad she could sleep. She needed the rest. But my body wouldn't let me relax. Not after everything we'd been through.

I sat up quietly, careful not to wake her, and walked to the window. The early morning light painted the valley outside in soft hues of gold and green, a stark contrast to the destruction we had left behind. For a brief moment, it felt like the world wasn't ending. Like we were just two people in a quiet farmhouse, far away from the horrors that had consumed everything else.

But I knew better.

The infected were out there. Maybe they hadn't reached this place yet, but it was only a matter of time. I could feel it, like the calm before a storm. We had bought ourselves a little time, but soon, we'd have to move again.

The question was: where?

I stepped outside, the cold morning air biting at my skin. The world felt eerily normal out here, the kind of quiet that made you question whether the apocalypse had really begun. Birds chirped in the distance, the grass swayed gently in the breeze, and the distant mountains were bathed in the soft light of dawn.

I wandered around the farmhouse, scanning the perimeter. It wasn't much, but it was defensible. The house had thick walls, and with the doors and windows barricaded, it would take the infected time to break in—if they found us. Still, I couldn't shake the feeling that we were sitting on borrowed time.

As I made my way to the barn a few hundred feet from the house, I caught sight of a figure standing near the fence at the edge of the property. My heart lurched, and I immediately reached for the knife at my waist. But as I squinted, I realized it wasn't one of the infected.

It was a person.

I froze, uncertain of what to do. In a world like this, it wasn't just the infected you had to fear. People could be just as dangerous, desperate for food, weapons, or simply out of their minds. But this person—whoever they were—wasn't moving. They just stood there, staring out at the fields.

I took a cautious step forward, keeping my distance. "Hey," I called, my voice low but firm. "Who are you?"

The figure didn't move for a long moment, and I began to wonder if they had heard me. But then, slowly, they turned. It was a woman, her clothes dirty and torn, her face pale and gaunt. She looked like she hadn't eaten in days, her eyes hollow and sunken.

"I'm not… infected," she said, her voice weak. "Please. I just need help."

I hesitated, glancing back toward the farmhouse where Mia was still sleeping. Letting a stranger in was a risk, especially now. But the woman didn't look like a threat—just someone who had been through hell, like the rest of us.

"What happened?" I asked, keeping my distance. "How did you get here?"

The woman took a shaky breath. "I've been… wandering. Since the outbreak started. I was with a group, but we got separated when the infected overran the town. I've been walking for days."

I glanced around, scanning the horizon for any signs of danger. "Are you alone?"

She nodded. "I've been alone since… since they all died."

I lowered the knife, though I kept it within reach. "What's your name?"

"Rachel," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Please… I just need a place to rest. I'm not a threat. I promise."

I stood there for a moment, weighing my options. Mia and I were already low on supplies, and adding another person to our group could make things more difficult. But leaving Rachel out here to die didn't sit right with me. We were all just trying to survive, and maybe—just maybe—having someone else around would make things easier.

"Okay," I said finally. "Come with me. But don't try anything."

Rachel nodded, relief flooding her face. She followed me back toward the farmhouse, her steps slow and unsteady. When we reached the door, I knocked lightly to let Mia know I was coming in. She stirred on the couch, blinking sleepily as we entered.

"Jake?" she asked, rubbing her eyes. "Who…?"

"This is Rachel," I said, helping the woman inside. "I found her outside. She's been wandering since the outbreak started."

Mia sat up, her brow furrowed in concern. "Is she—?"

"She's not infected," I assured her. "But she's been through a lot. I figured… we couldn't just leave her out there."

Mia nodded, though I could see the uncertainty in her eyes. She didn't say anything, but she moved to help Rachel sit down, offering her a bottle of water from our limited supplies. Rachel took it gratefully, drinking in small, careful sips.

"Thank you," she murmured. "I didn't think I'd find anyone out here."

"How did you end up here?" Mia asked, her voice gentle but wary.

Rachel took a deep breath, as if the memories were painful to recall. "We were hiding in a small town not far from here. There were about ten of us, all strangers at first, but we banded together after the infection spread. We thought we could wait it out… but we were wrong."

She paused, her hands trembling slightly as she held the bottle. "One of us got infected. We didn't notice it at first—he hid it. By the time we realized, it was too late. The infection spread through our group like wildfire. I was the only one who made it out."

Mia and I exchanged a glance. We both knew the risk of letting someone new in. The infection could spread so easily, and trust was a dangerous thing in this world. But Rachel's story sounded genuine, and I couldn't turn her away now.

"You can stay with us for a while," I said, though I made it clear that this was temporary. "But if we're going to survive, we need to work together. There's not much food left, and we'll need to start scavenging for more supplies soon."

Rachel nodded, her eyes grateful. "I'll help however I can."

The day passed slowly, the three of us falling into a quiet routine. Mia and I took turns keeping watch, while Rachel rested. We didn't know how long this farmhouse would remain safe, but for now, it was a reprieve from the chaos outside.

As the afternoon sun began to dip lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the valley, Mia and I sat outside on the porch, keeping an eye on the road. Rachel was inside, still weak from days of wandering, but slowly regaining her strength.

"Do you think we can trust her?" Mia asked quietly, her voice filled with doubt.

I glanced at her, then at the farmhouse. "I don't know. But she's not infected, and she's not a threat. She's just like us, trying to survive."

Mia nodded, though I could tell she wasn't convinced. "I'm just worried… what if we can't trust her? What if she turns on us when things get bad?"

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "We don't have a lot of options, Mia. We need to stick together if we're going to make it through this. Rachel might be our best chance at survival. An extra set of hands, another person watching our back."

Mia stared out at the horizon, her expression thoughtful. "I just don't want us to make a mistake."

"I don't either," I admitted. "But right now, all we can do is take things one day at a time."

The conversation fell into silence as we both watched the sun sink lower in the sky. The quiet of the countryside was deceptive, and I knew it couldn't last. Sooner or later, the infected would spread further, and we'd be forced to move again.

And then, as if on cue, I saw movement at the edge of the trees. A shadowy figure slipping through the woods, too fast and too erratic to be human.

I stood up, my heart hammering in my chest. "Mia… get inside. Now."

She looked at me, alarmed. "What is it?"

"There's something out there."

We both rushed into the farmhouse, locking the door behind us. Rachel was already on her feet, her eyes wide with fear. "What's happening?"

"The infected," I said, my voice tight. "They've found us."

Rachel paled, and Mia grabbed the knife from the table. We barricaded the door with whatever we could find, pushing furniture against it as the sound of shuffling footsteps grew louder outside.

For a moment, everything was quiet again, and I dared to hope that maybe, just maybe, they hadn't noticed us.

Then the banging started.

The infected slammed against the door with inhuman force, their growls filling the air. The walls shook with each impact, and I knew it was only a matter of time before they broke through.

"We need to move," I said, my voice urgent. "We can't stay here."

Rachel looked terrified, but she nodded, grabbing the bag of supplies we had packed earlier. Mia did the same, her face pale but determined.

"We'll head out the back," I said, grabbing the hunting knife. "Stay close, and don't stop running. No matter what."

The banging grew louder, the door buckling under the pressure. We had no more time.

"Let's go."

We burst out the back door just as the front door gave way, the infected pouring into the farmhouse like a wave of death. We ran into the trees, our footsteps heavy and frantic, the sound of the infected behind us.

We had escaped, but only just.

And as we fled into the forest, the realization hit me hard.

There was no safe place left.