The silence that cocooned them in the subway was unnatural — too still, too breathless — broken only by the occasional hum of distant groans echoing through the tunnels. Lena sat against the tiled wall, Ethan hunched beside her. His eyes remained closed, body tense, hands curled as if fighting every second of his existence.
They had stayed that way for hours. She didn't know what time it was anymore. Days and nights blended in this world. Her stomach ached with hunger, her limbs heavy with fatigue. But she stayed. For him.
Then, without warning, a sound cracked through the tunnel like the sky splitting in half.
BOOM.
A tremor rolled through the floor. Dust rained down from the ceiling. Ethan's body jolted violently, his head snapping up as a sharp, inhuman scream ripped from his throat. He clutched his ears, shaking and snarling in agony.
Lena jumped to her feet. "Ethan!"
Another BOOM. Louder this time. The walls shuddered. The lights above flickered violently.
Ethan fell to his knees, his eyes wild with pain and confusion. Blood leaked from his ears. He clawed at the walls as if trying to escape the very sound invading his brain.
Lena knelt beside him. "I'm here. I'm here," she whispered, but her voice was lost under the barrage of bombing echoing through the underground.
They're bombing the infected, she realized with horror. They're close.
The army must've moved in. Maybe someone had tipped off the presence of infected hiding underground. Maybe they were just clearing every zone.
She placed her hands near Ethan's shoulders — not touching him, just close enough so he'd feel her presence.
But it was then, through the haze of noise and shaking, that she saw something move down the tunnel.
A shadow. Small. Light footsteps. Breathing fast.
"Hello?" a tiny voice called out.
Lena's breath caught. A child?
A little girl stepped into the faint light. Her clothes were torn, face smudged with dirt and tears. Her big brown eyes locked on Lena's.
"Please… help," the girl whimpered.
"No! Stay back!" Lena cried out. She held out a hand, shaking her head. "Please, don't come any closer!"
But the girl moved anyway, stumbling toward the safety she thought Lena represented.
Behind Lena, Ethan rose slowly.
His head jerked.
His breath changed.
The smell.
The sound.
The heartbeat.
He turned toward the girl, and something feral overtook him. His jaw clenched. His pupils narrowed.
"Ethan," Lena gasped, standing between them, "don't."
But he shoved her aside.
"No!" she screamed, stumbling.
With a flash of speed that no human could match, Ethan lunged at the girl.
Lena's scream echoed down the tunnel.
There was a terrible sound — a wet, sharp snap — and the girl cried out once. Then silence.
Lena crawled to her, tears already falling. The girl twitched on the ground. Bite marks on her neck. Her small frame convulsed — the infection setting in faster than ever.
"No… no, no, no, no…" Lena whispered, cradling the girl's body.
Ethan stood above them, panting, blood dripping from his mouth. His eyes… his eyes showed something more devastating than hunger. They showed shame.
For a second, he seemed to realize what he had done. His hands shook. His lips parted, and a broken groan escaped.
Lena looked up at him, face streaked with horror and heartbreak. "You killed her."
He stepped back.
"You said nothing, but I thought you still had something left. I thought I could save you." Her voice was soft now, but laced with steel. "I was wrong."
Ethan fell to his knees.
Lena stood. Her legs trembled. Her chest burned.
"I love you, Ethan. I probably always will," she said through clenched teeth. "But you're not him anymore."
Ethan let out a whimper, shaking, unable to meet her eyes.
Lena looked down at the girl, now still, then back at the man — the monster — she had refused to let go of.
"I stayed," she whispered. "But now I have to go."
She turned, not daring to look back.
Ethan didn't follow.
And for the first time since the world broke apart, Lena walked away — completely, utterly alone.