A Memory That Haunts

The night stretched on like an endless void, the darkness around Alex thick and suffocating. His footsteps faltered on the uneven dirt path leading away from the ruined bridge. Each step felt like a betrayal, a reminder that he was walking away—away from Sam, away from Chloe, away from the promises he couldn't keep.

The cries of the children still echoed in his ears, even though the bridge and the horrors it held were far behind him now. He had tried. God, he had tried. But the world didn't care about effort—it only cared about results, and Alex had failed.

The cool night air burned his lungs as he stumbled, catching himself on a jagged rock. Blood seeped from cuts on his hands, but he didn't care. The pain grounded him, giving him something tangible to focus on, something that wasn't the hollow ache in his chest.

Memories clawed their way to the surface, unbidden and relentless. Another time, another failure. Nora face flickered in his mind, her weak smile framed before her last dying breath. he had sworn to protect her kids. Alex shook his head violently as if he could dislodge the memory. "You couldn't save her, either," a voice whispered in his mind. It was his own voice, cruel and unyielding. "And now, you've lost them too."

He sank to his knees in the middle of the road, the chill of the ground seeping through his torn jeans. His head fell forward, his shoulders shaking—not from the cold, but from the weight of his grief. A sound escaped him, raw and guttural, a mix between a sob and a scream. It echoed into the night, swallowed by the emptiness around him.

He thought about Sam's wide, tear-streaked eyes, Chloe's terrified screams. He had promised them safety. He had promised them hope. And now they were gone. The thought hit him like a physical blow, and he punched the ground with a trembling fist.

"Why can't I save anyone?!" he roared into the void, his voice breaking. The sound of his despair hung in the air for a moment, before fading into silence. The world didn't answer him. It never did.

In the distance, the low groans of the infected reached his ears. They were still out there, wandering aimlessly, as if mocking his failure. Alex didn't move. For a fleeting moment, he considered staying there, letting them come. Letting the infected take him. Maybe he deserved it. Maybe it was time to stop fighting, to stop pretending that he could make a difference.

But then his hand brushed something in his pocket. He pulled it out—a crumpled piece of paper, stained and torn but still legible. It was a drawing, one Chloe had given him not long after he promised her that would stay together. Stick figures of the four of them, smiling under a bright yellow sun. Below it, in shaky, childlike handwriting, were the words: "Family forever."

Alex stared at the drawing, his vision blurring. His breath hitched, and his fingers trembled as he clutched it to his chest. Family. That word had once meant everything to him. It still did, even now, when all he had left were ghosts.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice breaking. "I'm so sorry…"

The wind howled around him, carrying with it the faintest sound of a child's laughter. It wasn't real—he knew that—but it was enough to stir something deep within him. He couldn't stay here. Not yet. Not like this.

With a groan, Alex forced himself to his feet. His legs were weak, his body screaming for rest, but he kept moving. He didn't know where he was going, only that he had to keep walking. Maybe there was still a chance. Maybe he could find another way. Maybe the world hadn't taken everything from him yet.

But as the night stretched on, the weight of his failure stayed with him, a heavy chain dragging behind him with every step. And in the back of his mind, the thought lingered: How many more would he lose before this was all over?

The road ahead was long, and the darkness seemed endless. But Alex walked on, carrying his pain, his guilt, and the faintest glimmer of hope. Because if he stopped, if he let the darkness consume him, then Carter would have been right. And Alex couldn't let that happen—not again.

It had been years ago, back when the world was still whole. Back when he still had a family. Back when his little sister, Rain, was still alive.

The Diagnosis

Alex had been fifteen when he first heard the word cancer spoken in a hushed, terrified tone by his parents. Rain was only ten at the time, her laughter and boundless energy a constant source of light in their lives. But that light had dimmed as the sickness took hold, draining the color from her cheeks and the strength from her limbs.

He remembered the hospital visits, the sterile smell of antiseptic that clung to his clothes, the somber looks exchanged between doctors and his parents. Rain had been so brave, even as the chemo began to take its toll. Her once-bouncy hair fell away, leaving her scalp smooth and pale. Her bright eyes dulled with fatigue, though they still sought him out whenever he entered the room.

Alex's parents did everything they could. They sold what they could spare, worked extra hours, and sacrificed endlessly to afford the treatments. But Alex? He stayed.

Every night, after the house fell silent and their parents collapsed into restless sleep, Alex would sneak into Rain's room. She'd be waiting for him, her frail body propped up by pillows, her lips curling into a weak smile at the sight of him.

"Hey, Rai," he'd whisper, sitting by her bedside.

"Alex…" Her voice was always soft, barely a whisper. She'd reach out her small, trembling hand, and he'd take it gently, holding it like it was the most fragile thing in the world.

He'd sit there for hours, stroking her bald head, watching the slow rise and fall of her chest as she struggled to breathe. She'd ask him the same question every time, her voice trembling with hope and fear.

"Will I be okay?"

He'd swallow the lump in his throat, forcing a smile. "Of course, Rai. You're the strongest person I know."

She'd close her eyes, seeming to draw strength from his words. "Stay with me tonight?"

"Always," he'd say, climbing into the bed beside her. She'd curl against him, her tiny body fitting perfectly against his, and he'd wrap his arms around her, holding her as if he could shield her from the cruel reality of the world.

Rain loved his stories. Even as her energy waned, she'd listen intently as he spun tales of brave knights and magical lands, her tired eyes lighting up with wonder.

"Tell me about the brave knight again," she'd whisper, her breath warm against his chest.

"He was the strongest knight in the kingdom," Alex would begin, his voice steady despite the ache in his heart. "But his strength didn't come from his sword or his armor. It came from his promise to protect those he loved."

Rain would sigh contentedly, her voice fading as sleep overtook her. "I like that… promise…"

And every time, she drifted off, Alex would press a kiss to her forehead and whisper, "I'll always protect you, Rai. Always."

Alex trudged through the forest, his steps heavy, his shoulder throbbing with pain. The gash Carter had left was deep, and though he'd hastily patched himself up with torn fabric from his shirt, the bleeding hadn't entirely stopped. Each step sent fresh waves of pain coursing through him, but he gritted his teeth and pushed forward.

The shelter loomed ahead, its weathered walls blending into the shadows of the trees. Before he could approach, Alex stopped at the clearing where Nora's lifeless body still lay.

Dropping to his knees beside her, Alex felt a wave of grief crash over him. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face. Her expression was serene now, free from the pain she'd endured in her final moments.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice cracking. "I promised to protect you, to protect everyone. And I failed. I failed you, Nora."

He dug into the earth with trembling hands, the soft soil giving way easily. The task was grueling, each movement pulling at his injured shoulder, but he refused to stop until the grave was ready. Carefully, he laid Nora to rest, wrapping her in a tattered blanket before covering her with soil.

Kneeling by the freshly dug grave, he pressed a hand to the ground. "I'll make it right, somehow. I'll find the kids, and I'll make sure they're safe. You deserved better, Nora. I'm so sorry."

After a long moment, Alex rose, his body aching with exhaustion and grief. He glanced at the shelter in the distance, its silhouette almost inviting in the dim light.