A human surviver

"Got any beef cans left? I'm out of food."

The voice jolted Ayra awake.

She stirred on the cold ground, her body aching as she realized she was lying in an alleyway. A bag sat nearby, and a teenage boy was rifling through it.

He looked maybe sixteen or seventeen—blond hair messy, dark blue eyes sharp with hunger. He was lanky, dressed in sports pants like he'd just come from soccer practice. High school, probably.

"Who… who are you?" Ayra croaked, her voice weak.

She pushed herself up and leaned against the wall, trying to piece together how she'd ended up here.

The boy glanced at her briefly, then went back to the bag. "You were unconscious. I found you and dragged you here. This was with you," he said, holding up the bag—a small schoolbag with Scooby-Doo printed on it, like it belonged to a child.

"I'm starving, so... forgive me for trespassing."

His eyes lit up as he pulled out a can. "Ah, jackpot," he grinned, plopping down beside her and popping the lid open with a small, excited chuckle.

Ayra stared blankly at the boy—and the bag.

It could have belonged to someone else, she thought. She didn't even own a bag. But should she even care about that right now? The world was falling apart. There were bigger things to worry about.

Her stomach rumbled loudly, and the boy stiffened.

Finally, he opened the beef can and handed it to her. "Here. You need food."

Ayra shook her head. He looked around sixteen—how could she deprive him of food just because she was hungry? "No. You need it more than I do."

The boy's lips curled into a smile. "I'm trying to be a gentleman here, lady. Take the offer while I'm being nice."

Ayra smiled, almost forgetting the chaos surrounding her. "You can have it."

He shrugged and began eating the beef with his bare hands. "I hope you're not repulsed. I don't have a spoon..."

Then he stopped, his eyes catching the fork in her hand. "Hey, you should've just told me you had a fork instead of making me use my hands."

Ayra quickly shoved the fork out of sight. "This is... not an eating fork."

How could she give him the same fork she had used to kill those creatures?

"Suit yourself," he shrugged. "There are more cans in the back. You can take one if you're hungry."

Was she?

Despite the growl in her stomach, she realized she had no appetite.

She watched him bend slightly, savoring his food. "Did you come across those creatures?"

The boy glanced at her briefly, then shrugged. "They came to my school, just before we started our football match."

His lips twitched. "Greg dared me the other day. He's the class bully, and I wanted to show him I wasn't inferior by beating him in today's match."

His shoulders slumped, and he stopped eating. Leaning back against the wall, his gaze fixed ahead—hollow, distant. "Just before we could start, the students began screaming. Everyone was running, no one knew what was happening. Not until..."

He gulped, gritting his teeth. "Not until one of those creatures jumped on Greg and bit him on the neck."

Ayra sighed. She already knew there was no hope for Greg. Not after seeing what had happened to the guests in the church—and to her father...

"I didn't wish that on him. At first, I was confused and just stood there watching, until I was shoved. That's when I ran."

He sighed again, then began devouring the beef, this time hastily. Pain still flashed in his eyes.

Ayra stared at the fork, remembering her mission.

There was nothing she could do now. The world was doomed, and she had to fight these creatures to complete her task.

The guardian had said it was her fault—that she had caused the outbreak.

"And you? What's your story?" He pushed the empty can away with his shoe. "You're wearing a wedding gown."

Ayra quickly hid the fork and flashed him a bitter smile.

"Don't tell me," his eyes widened. "These creatures showed up while you were having your wedding?"

Ayra nodded.

He looked at her with sympathy. "Yours is even worse. I'll curse the world if that ever happened to me."

Ayra smiled faintly, remembering that she had indeed cursed, screamed, and cried. It was a little comforting to know that someone else could relate to her pain.

"And your groom? Where is he?" He studied her blank expression, then gasped. "Don't tell me the creatures got to him."

Ayra blinked at him, her lips parted as if to speak, but no words came out. What could she say? That Ethan had run away? It would be too embarrassing. Instead, she replied quietly, "We… we got separated in the chaos."

He looked at her with pity, and she wished he hadn't. She didn't want to cry, didn't want to be reminded of turning around and seeing he wasn't there—of him leaving her behind.

"That's really sad," he said softly. "I hope you two reunite. It'll make your day a little less miserable."

Ayra stared at him. His gaze darted around the alleyway, and though he looked scared, he was masking it well. "What's your name?"

"Jeffery," he replied, turning to face her. "But in a world that's already ending, what does a name matter?" He shrugged.

"My name is Ayra," she said, despite his apparent disinterest. "What's the world like out there?"

Once she stepped out of this alley, she would be greeted with the dismal reality of a world in chaos, so she thought but she didn't know how bad it is in the city.

"Worse," he said. "Those strange creatures are everywhere, and everyone's looking for a way to escape. The military? The government?" He shook his head. "None of them have come to help."

Ayra glanced around the alleyway. So far, it seemed safe, but for how long? Could they stay here for long?

She searched the bag and found another can and a bottle of water. She handed the water to him. "Take this."

Jeffery took it with a quiet thanks, gulping down the water, but left some for her.

Ayra grabbed the can of beef, though her appetite had vanished. She knew she had to eat. The excitement of the wedding had kept her from eating anything—not even water.

If she didn't eat now, she'd lose her strength to fight the creatures.

As she opened the can, she noticed a handwritten note on a sheet of paper. The handwriting was messy, as if written by a child, but the words were clear: "Thank you for saving me."

And then, Ayra realized who had given her the food.

She smiled, carefully placed the note back in the bag, slung the bag over her shoulder, and began to open the can.

"Here," Jeffery offered. "Let me help." He took the can from her before she could protest and handed her the half-empty water bottle. "Drink this, you need it."

"Thanks." She gulped the water, watching him as he began to open the can.

Then, suddenly...

The system's voice echoed in her head:

[Alert: 1 Riftwalker approaching]

Then came the hiss…

The growl…

A warning—the Riftwalker was here.

Jeffery and Ayra both turned toward the sound to see a Riftwalker. Its back was bent, and it moved steadily, calculating its approach toward them.