Chapter 2: The search begins

The city was chaos.

James sensed it with every step as he sprinted through the alleyways, his heart pounding in his chest. The distant sirens, the screams—everything was so distant, as if he was living in a dream that he couldn't wake up from. The world had changed in the blink of an eye, and there was no going back.

As he took a turn, he saw it—the start of destruction. A vehicle overturned on its side, smoke billowing from the hood of the car. The windows of the stores around him were shattered, shards of glass littering the streets. A fire burned in the distance, its flames illuminating the grey clouded sky.

He had to get out. He had to find someone.

James's head reeled as he made another turn, his gaze scanning the streets for the slightest hint of activity. No destination, no plan—just an inescapable need to find another human being.

The isolation was unbearable.

The world was a battlefield in one night, and James had no idea what was more terrifying—the danger of the infected, or the crushing quiet that followed.

He knew that there were survivors out there somewhere. He had to cling to that. But the more steps he took, the less likely it seemed. Was anyone else alive? Was anyone out there?

As he reached a tiny convenience store, he saw movement through the broken door. His heart leaped up into his throat.

Someone.

He moved cautiously, making a gentle course between the wrecked vehicles in the road, not wanting to upset anything. He had to remain silent. If the infected did exist, he didn't want to be their first casualty.

The store was in darkness, the shelves bare mostly, but there was a flickering light in the back. James hesitated for a moment, then swung open the door, the bell above it clinking faintly.

He kept his eyes shut and breathed shallowly.

There was a woman in the gloom, facing away from him. She was tall with dark, short hair. Her fists were clenched and her shoulders were tensed, as if she was ready to battle.

She didn't notice him at first.

"Hello?" James called softly, his voice trembling.

The woman spun around, her hand reaching for a crowbar that was propped against a shelf. Her eyes were wild, filled with fear, but there was something else there too—a sense of caution, like she didn't trust anyone.

James raised his hands, trying to show he meant no harm. "I'm not—"

Before he could finish, she stepped forward, her crowbar raised.

"I don't trust you," she said, her voice cold and sharp. "You're not one of them, are you?"

James's heart skipped a beat. He couldn't tell if she meant him or the infected, but he knew he had to tread carefully.

"I'm not," he said quickly. "I'm just… I'm looking for anyone. Survivors. People who are still alive."

Her eyes narrowed, looking him over. After a long pause, she let the crowbar down slowly, but didn't release it.

"What's your name?" she asked cautiously.

"James."

"Emily." She nodded slowly, her grip on the crowbar never relaxing. "Where'd you come from?"

"I was just. out there," James waved vaguely toward the devastated city beyond the convenience store. "I saw what happened. People. changed.".

Emily looked at him for a moment, as though deciding whether or not to believe him. Then she seemed to soften slightly, though her guard remained up.

"I've been here for two days," she said, her voice quiet. "There were a few others. But they're gone now."

The words hit James like a gut blow. He had been praying—hoping—there were others. But to have that hope crushed in one sentence made it all the more real.

"Have you seen any… infected?" James asked, barely daring to hear the answer.

Emily's expression became black, and she nodded again. "They're everywhere. It's not the illness, James. Something else. Folks are becoming." She broke off, clearly stuck for an explanation.

"Monsters," James filled in.

Emily looked at him, and for one moment there was a wordless recognition between them.

"Yeah," she breathed. "Monsters.".

James swallowed. "I—I won't remain here. I won't. I need to check if there are others outside. I need to…" He trailed off, uncertain what he was even saying. The words were hollow.

Emily regarded him silently for a second. "You're not by yourself," she said finally. "But if we do make it through, then we need to stick together."

James nodded. "I want to.".

It was when they heard the sounds outside—a distant scream, followed by the unmistakable growl of the infected. Emily's eyes widened, her body rigid.

"They're coming closer," she whispered, looking at James with a look of desperation.

The sound of thumping footsteps echoed down the street, growing louder second by second.

"We have to go," James said. "Now.".

Emily wasted no time. She grabbed her crowbar, and the two of them made a dash for the back of the store. The door groaned open, and into an alleyway that could give them a temporary reprieve—or an escape route.

As they stepped into the darkness, the sound of the infected closing in, James realized one thing:

Survival was all that mattered now. And he would do whatever it took to survive.