The Wrong Kind of Family Reunion

Ava's eyes cracked open, the cold, musty air of the bunker heavy in her lungs. She stared at the cracked ceiling for a moment, the tension in her body already familiar. No alarm clocks here—just the ache in her bones and the promise of another brutal day.

Her stomach growled, sharp and hollow. She needed food. Which meant one thing: Quota tickets.

She shoved off the thin mattress, her muscles screaming from yesterday's ordeal. The scrape on her shoulder throbbed, but she ignored it, grabbing her boots and lacing them tight.

The bunker's halls were already crowded—Normals heading for work shifts, Mutants prepping for scavenges, Shifters prowling like they owned the place.

Ava kept her head down, pushing through the swarm until she reached the ration counter.

A thick pane of reinforced glass separated the workers from the soldiers inside. The slot beneath it opened with a metallic clank.

Ava slid her scavenging slips through—her hard-earned tickets from the last expedition.

The soldier behind the glass barely glanced at her before tossing a handful of ration tickets back. "That's your cut. Next!"

Ava counted them. Four tickets. Barely enough for a proper meal.

Her stomach twisted. Not enough.

She stepped aside, tucking the tickets into her pocket. The only way to get more? Go out again. Scavenge more. Risk more.

And she would join an open group.

It was a risky play as the them were a combination less strong mutants and normal people that made up for talent with numbers, groups of thirty to forty people at a time. It was run by first class shifters who took a cut of everyone's loot.

At nine in the morning the scavenger group gathered at the airlock, faces grim, weapons improvised but ready.

Ava tightened her grip on the rusted knife at her side. She didn't need to be told how dangerous it was out there. She'd survived it before.

"Move out," barked Chen, the team leader. "Stick to formation. You fall behind? You stay behind."

The airlock hissed open, and Ava felt the familiar punch of acrid, metallic air hit her lungs. The outside was dead—burned, cracked, and empty. But it was also the only place with opportunity.

She took one step forward—

And her blood ran cold.

A voice, sharp and grating, sliced through the group's murmur.

"Oh? Look who it is."

Ava's heart sank.

She turned—

And there they were.

Linda Zhang. Rose Zhang.

Her mother's side of the family. Her personal plague.

Ava had survived monsters. Starvation. Bunker's hell.

But nothing compared to the misery of seeing them.

Linda's sharp, smirking face hadn't changed—faded blonde hair, cold eyes that always found a flaw. And Rose? All hard lines and judgment, her scowl permanently carved into her features.

Ava's chest burned with the instinct to turn back. But it was too late.

Linda's eyes swept over her like she was inspecting trash. "Didn't expect you here, darling. Thought you'd still be inside, sorting garbage."

Ava's fingers twitched on her knife. She kept her face blank. "Funny. I thought you'd be dead by now. Guess I was off by a few months."

Linda's smirk tightened, but Chen's voice cut through before she could snap back.

"Listen up," Chen growled. "Warehouse five miles out. Might be salvageable tech. Might be nothing. Stay sharp. If we hit trouble—" his eyes swept over the group—"run if you're weak. Fight if you're not."

Ava felt Linda's gaze burning into her, heard the low, amused chuckle under her breath. "Guess we'll see which one you are."

The city ruins swallowed them whole—crumbling towers, broken highways, everything stained with rust and decay. The silence out here was wrong. Not empty. Waiting.

Ava kept her steps light, her eyes sharp.

Survive. Get the salvage. Get your tickets. Get your food.

Simple.

A harsh whisper broke the silence.

"Didn't think you had the guts to come outside," Linda murmured, her voice dripping fake amusement as they weaved through shattered glass and broken pavement.

Ava didn't take her eyes off the ruins. "Yeah? I didn't think you had the guts to do anything useful. Yet here you are, wasting oxygen."

Linda huffed a bitter laugh. "Smart mouth. Let's see how smart you are when you're bleeding."

The team froze at Chen's sudden signal—his fist raised, body low.

Ava's gut went cold. Something wasn't right.

Ahead—an intersection.

A collapsed truck lay overturned near the overpass, crates scattered around it. The dim light glinted off something in the wreckage.

Food supplies.

But—

Ava's stomach knotted. It was too easy. Too obvious.

Rose's voice broke through, tight with suspicion. "Someone's been here."

Linda, eyes sharp, muttered, "And if they left food behind, they're planning to come back."

Chen's voice was low, cold. "Then it's a trap."

BANG.

A shot split the air.

Someone screamed.

Chaos exploded.

Ava hit the ground as bullets whizzed overhead, sparks flying off shattered concrete. Shadows moved fast through the ruins—Scavenger raiders. Armed. Organized.

"Fall back!" Chen roared.

But there was nowhere to fall back to.

A figure rushed Ava from the side—a man, masked, swinging a crowbar—

She ducked—too slow.

The impact clipped her shoulder—pain burst white-hot down her arm.

Ava's knife flashed—

Slick. Deep.

The raider crumpled, screaming.

Another shot rang out—someone else went down. She didn't look back.

Ava sprinted through the ruins, lungs burning, her body screaming—

But she wasn't alone.

Footsteps. Behind her.

Not a raider.

Linda.

Ava slowed, twisting—

"What the hell—"

Linda's eyes were flat, cold—

The pipe swung.

Ava felt her ribs crack.

Air punched from her lungs as she crashed to the ground.

The world spun, the sharp tang of blood in her mouth. Linda's boot pressed hard into her chest, pinning her to the rubble.

The look on her face—so familiar—

Cruel. Self-satisfied.

"You really thought," Linda said softly, "that you belonged out here?"

Ava's fists clenched, fury shaking through her battered body.

"You—" she gasped, "always—" her nails bit into her palms— "talk too much."

Linda's weight pressed down harder, a sneer curling her lips.

"You were always a disappointment," she hissed. "I should've finished you in the bunker. But out here?" Her eyes gleamed, sharp and cold. "No one will ask questions when you don't come back."

Ava's heart pounded, adrenaline fighting through her pain. Her mind raced—reach for the knife—no, too far—find cover—no time—

Then—

A sound.

A low, wet snarl.

The pressure on Ava's chest lifted as Linda's head snapped toward the noise.

And Ava saw it—

Emerging from the shadows—jagged teeth. Blackened flesh. A predator born from the end of the world.

The thing growled, its dead, hollow eyes locking onto them.

Linda froze.

Ava's lips, bloody and raw, curled into something that almost looked like a smile.

"Guess I'm not the only one you should've killed first."

The creature lunged.

And suddenly—

Linda wasn't so smug anymore.