Beneath the Barricades

After several tense hours of searching, Victor and Hiroshi finally returned, their steps heavy and their expressions darker than the storm clouds overhead. As they entered the dimly lit room, the faint metallic clinks of the weapons they carried broke the suffocating silence. Yet, the moment Victor dumped their findings onto the table, disappointment was etched into every crease of his face.

“These things won’t last a week,” Victor hissed, his voice sharp with frustration. With a deliberate motion, he began laying out their modest arsenal, each weapon hitting the surface with a dull thud.

A Glock 19 slid across the table, its scratched surface revealing years of wear. Next, a battered Beretta M9, the grip taped together in a makeshift repair. He tossed in an Ithaca 37 shotgun, its barrel dented and the pump action stiff with rust. A pair of lightweight but unimpressive Smith & Wesson Model 60 revolvers followed, their muzzles already dull from neglect.

Victor then set down a set of daggers—karambits and push knives, their once gleaming blades now dulled by time. A rusty machete completed the collection, its edge jagged and uneven, more useful for intimidation than actual combat. Finally, there was a crossbow, ancient and creaking, accompanied by only a handful of mismatched bolts.

Hiroshi grimaced but said nothing, his hand lingering over the crossbow as if he hoped it might miraculously transform into something deadlier. Victor, however, was less restrained, running a hand through his unkempt hair as he glared at the pitiful assortment.

“This isn’t just disappointing,” he muttered, his voice dropping into a low growl. “It’s suicide. What are we supposed to do with this? Threaten them with antique collectibles?” He slammed a fist on the table, causing the Glock to wobble precariously.

Hiroshi finally spoke, his voice calm but edged with fatigue. “It’s all we could find. Every armory in the sector’s been raided, and anything decent was taken long before we got there. If we’re going to survive, we’ll have to make these work.”

Victor didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he stared at the weapons as though willing them to become something better. His jaw tightened.

“Fine,” he said at last, though the word came out more as a growl. “But these won’t be enough for long. We need better plans or we'll be staying here until I say so."

He glanced toward the adjoining room just in time to see Azumi emerging, her hair slightly disheveled, while Hiroshi knelt by the couch to check on Adelina, who was fast asleep, her breathing soft and steady.

“Well,” Azumi said, approaching the table and poking one of the dull daggers with her finger. “Let’s just hope zombies can die from tetanus.”

“Ha ha,” Victor grimaced, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’d never let you handle this garbage. You’d probably end up cutting yourself.”

“Ahh, you underestimate me so much,” she teased, her lips curving into a playful pout.

“No,” Victor shot back almost too quickly, his tone firm. “I just can’t let you get hurt.” He paused for a moment, his gaze softening as he looked at her. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve got some cleaning to do.”

Before Azumi could respond, Victor leaned down and pressed a light kiss to her forehead, a gesture so instinctive and genuine that it made her heart clench. Without another word, he turned and began sorting through his collection of cleaning tools—oils, brushes, and cloths. Every movement was precise, almost ritualistic, a reflection of his skill as a hunter and his deep understanding of weapons.

Azumi stood still, watching him work, a thin smile forming on her lips as warmth filled her chest. It was in these small acts, his unspoken care, that she realized just how deeply he loved her. But the moment of joy was fleeting, replaced by the heavy weight of her conscience.

“It’s for his safety, Azumi,” she reminded herself silently. “It’s for everyone’s safety.”

With a heavy sigh, she turned and walked toward the garden, seeking solace among the barricades they had hastily constructed. Leaning against the uneven wood, she gazed out at the ruined city below. Once bustling with life, it now stretched before her as a sprawling graveyard of shattered windows, collapsed buildings, and streets littered with abandoned cars and rotting garbage. A hollow emptiness hung in the air, as if the city itself mourned its lost humanity.

"I'll do anything to help bring back humans," Azumi muttered softly to herself. She was about to head back inside when a sudden glint of light hit her eyes, sharp enough to pull her attention.

She paused, squinting into the desolate landscape below. Her eyes scanned the area, searching for the source of the reflection. At first, it was hard to pinpoint, but then she caught movement in the shadows of an alley.

Azumi blinked repeatedly, trying to focus, and then she saw it—no, saw her. A figure. Someone was deliberately flashing the light in her direction, as if to catch her attention. She instinctively leaned forward against the barricade, straining her eyes, even though she knew it wouldn’t help.

The figure—a woman—noticed she had succeeded in capturing Azumi’s attention. The light disappeared, replaced by movement. A moment later, the woman raised something—a banner or a sheet of some kind. Azumi squinted harder.

The words on the banner hit her like a punch to the gut. "THEY'RE COMING! LEAVE ASAP!"

Azumi gasped audibly, her hand flying to her mouth. Her heartbeat quickened as the urgency of the message sank in.

"Love! LOVE!" she shouted, her voice trembling with panic as she called for Victor, her eyes never leaving the alley below.

Victor came rushing to her side, his boots thudding heavily against the wooden floor. "W-WHAT HAPPENED?!" he demanded, his voice tight with concern. His hands immediately went to her shoulders, turning her this way and that, checking for injuries.

"Love! Someone's out there!" Azumi exclaimed, pointing toward the alley. But when Victor followed her gesture, there was no one. The woman was gone.

"Who?! Where?!" His tone was sharp, eyes scanning the empty street.

"S-She was there earlier!" Azumi protested, desperation creeping into her voice. "She had a banner! She said 'They’re coming, leave as soon as possible.' She was warning us!"

Victor’s eyes narrowed as he processed her words. "Coming who?!" he asked, his voice low, but the tension in it was unmistakable.

Before Azumi could answer, Hiroshi and Adelina burst out onto the balcony, alarmed by the commotion.

"What’s going on?" Hiroshi asked, his hand already resting on the rusty machete tucked in his belt.

"There was a woman out there," Azumi explained hurriedly, her voice rising with anxiety. "She said we need to leave! She said something—someone—is coming!"

Victor pulled her into his arms, holding her close to steady her trembling frame. "Love, calm down," he said gently but firmly. "We don’t know who that was. For all we know, she could be trying to scare us off so she can take this place for herself. We can't trust anyone out there."

"But what if she’s not?" Azumi interrupted, her voice cutting through his reasoning like a blade. "She even knows we're here—that there are still people living up here."

Azumi couldn’t even formulate the words to respond, not without betraying the secret she and Adelina had been keeping from Victor and Hiroshi. Her thoughts raced, tangling into a mess of fear and guilt.

How could she explain without revealing too much? They had just spoken about this—about the possibility that someone might be orchestrating everything: the collapse of cities, the hordes of zombies, the isolating chaos.

Victor couldn't dismiss the warning entirely, not in a world as cruel and unforgiving as theirs. But leaving without preparation was its own death sentence.

Victor glanced at Hiroshi and Adelina. Neither of them were fighters, and Azumi... she wasn’t built for survival out there, not like he was. If they abandoned their haven now, they would be vulnerable to whatever dangers lurked beyond the barricades.

He swallowed hard, his throat dry. "L-Love, I—I can’t protect you out there. Not yet," he admitted, his voice cracking with frustration.

Azumi looked up at him, her eyes shimmering with the same fear he felt but wouldn’t voice. She knew he was right. The risks were immense, but the alternative was equally grim. If the woman’s warning was genuine, staying might mean death for them all.

Victor’s fists clenched. He knew she was right. The odds were stacked against them either way, but he couldn’t bear the thought of losing her—or any of them. His mind churned, calculating their next move.

Finally, he exhaled, his voice steady despite the fear clawing at his chest. "Then we don’t leave blind. We prepare. Hiroshi and I will scout the area first and then we'll leave. You and Adelina pack the weapons and food—"

Victor halted mid-step, his gaze sharpening as he turned to Adelina. "Wait, are you sure your wounds don’t hurt anymore? This journey will push us hard. If we can’t keep up... we won’t make it."

Adelina’s lips curved into a reassuring smile. "Don’t worry about me," she said, her tone light but steady. "Azumi did a great job stitching me up, and the painkillers are working wonders. I’ll manage."

Satisfied, Victor gave her a curt nod before facing Azumi. "I’ve cleaned most of the daggers. Take your pick—whichever feels right in your hands."

Azumi smiled softly, reaching up to tap the hand still resting protectively on her shoulder. "Thank you for trusting me, love."

Victor’s expression softened, and without a word, he pulled her into a firm embrace, holding her close for a fleeting moment. Then, with a determined glance at Hiroshi, he turned and disappeared outside, leaving the women to their preparations.

As Azumi and Adelina packed, the air between them buzzed with unspoken tension. Adelina’s hands moved deftly, gathering the instant food Hiroshi had scavenged. "Did you get a good look at her face?" she asked suddenly, breaking the silence.

Azumi hesitated, carefully sliding the daggers into one of Victor’s worn hunting bags. "Not clearly," she admitted. "It was dark, and everything happened so fast. But if I see her again, I’ll know."

Adelina paused, her expression thoughtful. "Maybe," she murmured, her voice lowering. "Maybe she can lead us to the laboratory or better yet—" she gasped in realization. "What if she's one of us?"