Chapter Text
Screaming.
All Francesca could hear were screams echoing through the open space, mixed with the thunder of footsteps as chaos unfolded around them. She tightened her grip on the strap of her backpack, her other hand clutched tightly in Eloise’s. Their knuckles had turned white from how desperately they held on to each other.
Francesca tried her best to keep up as people slammed into her from every direction with enough force to nearly knock her over. Somehow, she manages to stay upright. She focused on her sister ahead of her, who in turn was gripping Ben’s hand with her free one. The whole family had formed a chain, desperately holding on to each other as they pushed through the crowd.
They had to get on that bus.
One of the last buses that would take them behind the wall.
Before all of this, they had been standing in line patiently, waiting for the doors to open. No one had been paying attention to the danger lurking only miles away. Of course they knew the undead existed, everyone did. It was the reason they were fleeing in the first place. But at first, it had all seemed distant. Only a few had been spotted near Mayfair. A small number, people said. Nothing big enough to panic over.
Until it became too late.
The creatures had reached the city limits faster than anyone expected. The government had ordered everyone to stay inside for days. No one dared leave their homes knowing what might be roaming the streets outside.
But then the announcement came. A city protected by massive walls. Safe behind fortified gates. Refugees were being evacuated there by bus. Anthony had immediately made everyone pack small bags with only the essentials before leading them toward the pickup stops just outside Mayfair.
And that was what had brought them here, right into the middle of a nightmare.
The horde had appeared out of nowhere, gathering out of sight only a few miles behind the double-decker buses. By the time the creatures came running toward the crowd, people had just started boarding.
As the family struggled to push through the crowd, Francesca, the last one in line, fought desperately to keep up. It was only Eloise’s tight grip on her hand that kept her from getting separated. If she had just lifted her feet a little higher, If she had only looked where she was going…then maybe, just maybe, she could have made it onto that bus. She could have made it behind the wall, but she hadn’t.
Someone fell directly in front of her, and before she could react, her foot caught against them. Her hand slipped from Eloise’s grasp as she crashed onto the pavement hard enough to knock the air from her lungs. The screams around her faded into a loud ringing in her ears. Her vision blurred as she struggled to look up, desperately searching for her family.
Despite the chaos, she could hear her name being called, muffled as though from a great distance. Through watery eyes, she saw Anthony and Benedict inside the bus, slamming their fists against the closed doors hard enough to make the metal shake. Their eyes were wide with panic. Her mother and siblings clawed at the windows, screaming for her.
And all Francesca could do was stare.
Stare as she lay motionless on the ground, her body too weak to move. A single tear slipped down her cheek as the bus slowly pulled away from her, disappearing through the chaos.
***
Eloise doesn’t remember her sister letting go she doesn’t remember the exact moment her hand had slipped from hers. All she remembers are the screams. Her brothers screaming at the driver to stop the bus, her mother wailing as she held her siblings close crying out for Francesca over and over again and all Eloise could do was sit there. Sit there and try to remember where it had gone wrong when had she lost her. When had she let go?
No one on the bus moved, they all sat huddled close together eyes tightly shut as if not looking outside would somehow make it all disappear. But it didn’t, it kept going. It didn’t stop. Not for Francesca, not for anyone.
Eventually the screaming died down replaced by silence and acceptance because deep down they all knew the truth the bus was never going to turn around. So they sat there tears falling silently as the bus got further and further away from their sister
Eloise’s hand remained curled tightly in her lap as if she could still feel Francesca’s hand holding onto hers. And they stayed like that until the bus finally reached the wall.
The bus stopped with a loud creak, the brakes groaning as the vehicle exhaled and lowered to the ground. The doors had not been open opened, and yet people were already pressing themselves against them. The moment they slid apart, everyone spilled out.
They had not left the chaos behind. It had merely settled inside the bus, waiting to erupt again.
As the bus emptied, several armed men and women on horseback guided the crowd toward an entrance. Eloise noticed there were armed guards there too, checking each individual for marks. It would not take much. A tiny scratch would suffice — anything that drew blood could turn you into one of them. Eloise had read the research papers on the virus back when it had still been contained.
A hard shove pulled her from her thoughts. She hadn’t even registered Benedict grabbing her arm and dragging her toward the gate, where they were now being roughly inspected for any signs of infection. It felt violating, almost humiliating, yet she stood still and let them search her. Anything to be safe.
Others weren’t so lucky. As she glanced to her right, screaming erupted nearby. A man was being dragged away, begging for another chance, insisting it had been his dog, but they could all see it. Blood trickled down his abdomen, and beneath his ribs a row of human teeth marks had been permanently carved into his flesh.
Then
A shot.
Eloise whipped her head forward again, her entire body shaking as the quiet consumed the area. They had shot him. He had begged for his life, and they had shot him.
“Come on,” Benedict whispered, gripping her arm tighter.
They had all been cleared and instructed to follow two women on horseback. Eloise couldn’t help but take in her surroundings as they were led trough the city. It had felt wrong behind the wall. Not because it was ugly or broken, because honestly compared to the outside it looked almost beautiful. It was just strange how life continued after the world had ended. Like people had simply decided they were going to keep going no matter what had happened beyond those walls.
The walls themselves towered over everything, massive slabs of concrete covered in metal plating and old watchtowers where guards stood day and night with rifles hanging from their shoulders. Wires and spikes wrapped around parts of the wall as extra protection. Some parts had cracks running through them from previous attacks, quickly repaired with whatever materials they could find.
Inside however there was life.
People walked through the streets carrying baskets filled with vegetables or buckets of water while others dragged carts behind horses through muddy roads. Children still played outside despite their parents constantly yelling at them to stay close. There were little market stands lining the square with people trading crops, old clothes, tools or scavenged items brought back by the Trailblazers.
There was a church near the square too, half destroyed but still standing somehow. Parts of the ceiling had collapsed years ago and most of the statues were broken, but candles still burned inside day and night. People went there when they needed something. Food. Shelter. Hope.
Old world buildings stood between newer structures built after the outbreak. Some apartments had entire sections covered in vines while others had wooden planks nailed over broken windows. Store signs still hung above abandoned shops faded by time and weather while candles flickered behind the glass.
The group was guided toward an abandoned shop. It looked as though it had once sold ice cream — or maybe baked goods. The place had been painted a soft but deep shade of green, with a broken neon sign hanging crookedly on the wall that read Good Vibes. The walls were crumbling, and a dusty counter with an old display case still stood near the entrance.
The tables and chairs had been shoved aside, some stacked against the windows as extra protection. The middle of the room was now filled with worn sleeping bags and pillows stained yellow from excessive use.
“This is where you’ll be staying. Someone will come by later to collect your information and assign jobs to all adults eighteen and older,” one of the girls explained from atop her horse, ready to move on and guide the rest of the crowd to their designated shelters. “The children will attend survival classes during the day and help take care of the animals. Please settle in first. The rest will follow, but you’re safe now.”
“Wait!” Anthony followed up before she could urge her horse forward.
“Our— our sister,” he stammered. “She’s still out there. We have to do something.”
The woman’s expression softened with sadness as she turned back toward him.
“I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I cannot help you.”
“No, please, there has to be something, anything else!” Eloise stepped forward.
She was practically begging now. The only reason she hadn’t collapsed to her knees was because Ben was holding her upright, pressing her tightly against his side.
The girl hesitated for a moment, her expression looked almost pained as she glanced between the family and the restless crowd she still had to lead. Then she turned toward her companion.
“Lisa, why don’t you go ahead with these people? I’ll catch up,” the girl said as she looked back. The other girl nodded and guided her horse past the new Bridgerton resident.
The girl’s grip on the reigns tightened as her eyes shifted from Anthony to Eloise, then to Ben, before settling back on Eloise. She leaned down slightly, stroking her horse along its neck in reward for its patience.
“Follow the wooden signs leading to City Hall. There’s an open hour where residents behind the wall can speak to the council about their concerns,” she explained, glancing back toward the crowd her companion had already begun leading away. “If you truly believe your sister is still alive, the Trailblazers can keep an extra eye out whenever they go beyond the wall.”
“I have to keep going now,” she said softly, offering them an apologetic smile as she turned her horse around.
“Wait!” Eloises suddenly shouted.
The girl was already farther away now, her horse trotting steadily forward.
“What’s your name?”
The girl looked back over her shoulder as her horse continued onward. “It’s Maia!” she called back.
And so the family walked. They followed the signs, eventually ending up in a large square. People had already gathered there, a long line stretching from inside an old church. As they stood in line, they could hear the voices echoing through the church walls. The closer they got, the more Eloise could make out. A man requesting more tenants to help tend to his sheep. A woman informing the council about the crops and their concerns regarding a possible food shortage. And then it was their turn.
At the end of the room stood a large table. In the middle sat a woman. She sat tall, her hair braided and tucked into a neat bun at the back of her neck. Her dark skin was illuminated by the soft glow of the candles surrounding the table, making her look almost unreal. It took Eloise a second to look away, her eyes drifting to the rest of the people seated there. To the woman’s left sat a man who resembled her quite a lot. He looked young as well, maybe around her own age, though there was something kind about him. To the right of the woman sat two more women and another man, all of them looking down at the family expectantly.
She didn’t even register her brother stepping forward until his voice bounced off the ruined church walls. The statues had crumbled long ago, and parts of the room still looked destroyed, probably from the chaos that had erupted there years ago.
“Good day,” Anthony started. “First, I want to thank you for taking in my family and providing us with a safe place to live. For giving us a community.” His gaze was intense as he mostly addressed the woman in the middle of the table.
“But I want to ask for a favor. Our sister…” He looked back at Ben and Eloise. “She…”
“She didn’t make it to the bus,” Eloise stepped forward, sensing her brother was too overwhelmed to continue. “I was… I held her, and she slipped from my grasp. I… she got left behind.” Her voice cracked.
“We need to look for her. She’s strong. She’s incredibly smart. I know we can find her if we try. Please.” She hadn’t even realized she had started crying until both her brothers rested their hands on her shoulders in an attempt to comfort her. They knew she blamed herself. Knew she was convinced it had somehow been her fault.
The whole table looked at them with sympathy. It practically radiated off them, their eyebrows knitting together as they allowed the silence to stretch. Only Violet’s sobbing could be heard from behind them.
“I am sorry that your sister got left behind,” the woman finally said, “but we cannot simply go out there and risk the lives of others for one person we do not even know is alive.” Her voice was gentle, but firm.
“Our Trailblazers have already spent weeks searching outside the walls and only returned three days ago. We cannot simply send them back out there again, especially not now. The waves are starting up again. Hordes are gathering during this time.” At those words, the room seemed to grow heavier.
“In two weeks, another group will go out looking for resources. We can ask them to keep an eye out for your sister, but she will not be their priority.”
“No,” Violet responded immediately, bitterness coating her voice. “No, you simply cannot do this. My daughter is out there. You must look for her.”
“We have heard your request,” the woman replied, sadness evident in her expression, “but we must decline. I am truly sorry.”
“No!” Violet screamed this time, stepping forward desperately. “Please. That is my baby. Do you not have children? Do you know what it feels like to have a piece of your soul ripped away from you?”Her voice broke.
“I do not know where she is, but I know my daughter, and she is strong. She is out there.” Tears streamed down her face now. “I beg of you.”
The woman studied her carefully, taking in every word before her expression softened. “I do know,” she admitted quietly. “I truly do. My daughter is a Trailblazer herself, against my wishes, of course.”
For a brief second, sadness flickered across her face.
“And I will not send her out there now. Not when it’s like this.” She paused. “From the bottom of my heart, I am sorry about your dear daughter and sister, but there is nothing we can do for her now.”
The silence that followed felt unbearable.
“In three weeks,” the woman continued softly, “I shall send my daughter out, and I will tell her to keep an eye out for your Francesca.”
At that response, Violet dropped to her knees. Her shoulders sagged in defeat. Anthony had already turned away, unable to face the council or even look them in the eye. He grabbed his younger siblings by the arms and stumbled out of the church.
Eloise forced herself to move, quickly walking toward her mother to help her up. She looked toward Ben for help, but all he could do was stare. Tears slipped silently down his face as though he were frozen in place.
“Ben,” Eloise whispered.
Nothing.
“Ben,” she said louder this time, pulling him from his haze.
“Yes— sorry.”
The walk back to their new home was silent.
No one spoke. And somehow, that silence followed them into the days that came after. Everyone tried to move on in their own way, burying themselves in work just to make it through the day. Ben had applied as a cartographer, helping the Trailblazers prepare for their journeys by making detailed maps of the places they had already explored beyond the walls. Anthony had boldly applied for a seat on the council, despite the fact that they hadn’t even lived there for a month. Until a decision was made, he worked as an accountant for the market square, keeping track of crops, supplies, and stock. It was fitting for him.
And Eloise, Eloise had applied to work for the newspaper, helping ensure everyone behind the walls stayed updated on the progress within the city and the changes that would follow. Their mother, however had not been the same since that day, unable to move on. She stayed in their new home most days, crying silently for her daughter while Hyacinth and Gregory attended school or helped with the animals on the farms.
As three weeks had gone by, it was time for the Trailblazers to head outside of the walls. Their horses were tacked up, their bags were packed, and all that was left were the goodbyes.
***
Michaela turned to her mother, as she had done many times before. She knew what she was doing was extremely dangerous, that it was something her mother wished she could forbid, but Michaela was never the type of person to let herself be contained by walls, not even if death was waiting behind them. So as she hugged her mother and cousin goodbye, she let herself settle into her saddle, double-checking if she had everything, her hands gliding over her thigh where her knife rested before moving to the side of her hip where her gun sat securely. She looked down from her horse, sending her mom a smile.
“I’ll be okay, I promise. I’ll see you in two weeks weeks.”
“Be careful, Michaela. Come back to me,” her mother almost demanded, her fists clenched tightly at her sides. Helen had tried, she really had, to contain her daughter’s chaos, to make her daughter content within these walls, but she knew her daughter’s chaos would never be able to find peace by simply staying there, so she had to let her go.
“I will, Mama. I will,” Michaela’s voice softened, repeating the promise she made every single time she left. “Always. I’ll see if they have some more of those awfully boring books you like, John,” she joked, trying to lighten the mood.
Her cousin scoffed dramatically, lifting his head high in response. “I will have you know that those books you speak of are quite informative.”
“Right. Don’t miss me too much while I’m gone,” she joked again, looking ahead to see her team gathered by the wall waiting for her.
“Be careful, Micky,” John said seriously this time. “I need you.”
The teasing disappeared from her face. “I know,” she replied quietly before clicking her tongue, urging her horse forward.
“Michaela, wait!” her mother suddenly yelled, making her pull the reigns to a stop before turning back around.
“There’s this girl. I forgot her name, but she was last sighted outside of Mayfair.” Helen quickly pulled a folded note from her pocket. “I know there isn’t much hope,” she continued more quietly, “but her family left a description, and her brother drew a picture of her. So if you find her… bring her with you.”
Her mother handed her the note before stepping back.
“Okey. I will see,” she replied, tucking the note into her back pocket. “I have to leave now. I love you guys.” And with that, she left them behind, urging her horse into a trot as she approached the group waiting by the wall.
“Alright,” Michaela began once everyone had gathered. “You guys know the drill. I’m heading east toward Mayfair. Maia, you take south. Elizabeth, take west. Dan, you take north. Please be safe, and if anything happens, put yourselves first. Always. I mean it.”
Everyone nodded.
“Alright. I’ll see you guys in two weeks, okay? Same spot as always.”
She pulled out her compass like the others before heading east.
“It’s just you and me, girl” she said softly to her horse as they walked together. Michaela enjoyed this. She would never tell anyone, but the idea of leaving the city to dwell out just so she could live surrounded by animals had never sounded bad to her. So as she walked through the abandoned streets together with her loyal companion, she couldn’t help but feel content.
Gealach had been a foal gifted to her by her father, the only piece of him she had left. And as weird as it sounded, the animal had truly become her friend. Gealach understood that even if Michaela was like a hurricane of chaos, she could also settle into a soft breeze. She enjoyed quiet, peace, and Michaela was only ever able to find peace outside of the walls. So every time they went beyond them, she soaked up every moment. Only this time, the moment was interrupted.
Gealach suddenly shifted nervously beneath her, ears flicking frantically while her tail swished back and forth. Michaela frowned immediately, placing a hand against her horse’s shoulder.
“What’s the matter, girl?” she asked softly, concern evident in her voice. She looked around carefully, trying to find whatever had unsettled the mare so badly, but there was nothing. Nothing she could see. So she ignored it, convincing herself maybe Gealach was simply in a mood.
Michaela sighed softly before pulling out her map. During quieter periods, when the hordes disappeared for roughly two weeks for reasons nobody understood, the council would send people out to build secured shelters beyond the walls. It allowed the Trailblazers to travel farther while still having safe places to rest.
And so she headed toward their first stop. Within four days, Michaela arrived just outside of Mayfair, where the buses had once gathered. The smell hit her immediately, making her eyes sting. She gagged as Gealach carefully walked through the piles of bodies scattered everywhere. Flies buzzed around them while maggots gathered inside open wounds. Men, women, children, all viciously slaughtered by those creatures.
Michaela squeezed her eyes shut briefly. She always struggled with this part, but she reminded herself of the same thing every time. It was better they slaughtered you. Better that than becoming one of them. At least, that’s what she would have wanted.
As they finally left the gruesome scene behind, Michaela guided Gealach toward the mall. They needed school supplies, and hopefully she could still find food that hadn’t expired. She loved her cousin John, truly, but the lunches he packed for her sometimes made her wonder if he had secretly been the source of the outbreak.
A faint smile tugged at her lips as she stopped Gealach in front of the abandoned mall. Sliding off her horse, she moved toward the back of the saddle and pulled off the duffle bag attached to it.
“You stay here, okay? I’ll be right back.” She gave Gealach one final pat. The horse simply stared at her. Michaela had never tied Gealach up. She was terrified that if something ever attacked her horse, it wouldn’t be able to run, so she always allowed her to roam freely. And Gealach always came back.
But this time felt different.
The mare stood tense, ears alert, tail still moving anxiously.
“Stay,” Michaela repeated more firmly, pointing a finger at her before finally turning away with a sigh.
She entered the mall, glancing back at Gealach one last time before disappearing inside the massive building. The duffle bag hung over her shoulder while she pulled a small flashlight from her jacket pocket. With her other hand, she grabbed the knife strapped to her thigh, holding it carefully in front of her.
The mall swallowed her whole the second she stepped inside. The air felt wrong. Dust floated through weak streaks of light that slipped in through the cracked glass ceiling above, illuminating abandoned storefronts and overturned benches. Escalators stood frozen in place, stained with dried blood and dirt, while old banners still hung from the ceiling advertising sales that would never happen.
The smell hit her first. Rotting food, mold and something dead. It clung to the back of her throat so heavily she almost gagged. Every sound inside the building echoed endlessly. The soft creak of metal somewhere above her, dripping water in the distance, the crunch of shattered glass beneath her boots. It made the entire place feel alive somehow, like the mall itself was breathing around her.
Stores had been torn apart. Some looked looted, shelves emptied and scattered across the floor, while others still stood untouched behind rusted gates. Mannequins were toppled everywhere, some missing limbs, others covered in grime and dried blood to the point where they almost looked human in the dark.
Nature had started reclaiming parts of the building too.
Vines crawled through cracks in the walls, wrapping around railings and store signs. Water dripped steadily from the ceiling where rain had slowly eaten through the roof over the years. Near the food court, green moss spread across tiles that used to shine. It felt frozen in time. Like the world had ended in the middle of an ordinary shopping day and everyone had simply vanished. A stroller still stood near the entrance of a children’s store. Shopping bags remained abandoned near overturned chairs and somewhere deeper inside the mall, metal scraped against metal.
Michaela tightened her grip on the knife immediately.
A soft shuffle behind her immediately made her whirl around, knife raised, eyes wide. Her heartbeat thundered in her throat as she scanned the darkness frantically.
Nothing.
Then the pipes creaked somewhere above her.
Michaela exhaled shakily, trying to convince herself it was just the building settling, just the echoes of memories left behind in the empty mall, but then she heard it again. A shuffle only the sound had been closer this time.
Without hesitation, she spun around, knife raised exactly where she knew it would meet a throat, feet planted and prepared, but not prepared enough, because instead of an infected, she was met with equally terrified eyes.
A yelp escaped the stranger as Michaela’s knife pressed against the girl’s chest. Michaela hadn’t accounted for the height of her attacker, and she couldn’t see clearly anymore since her flashlight had tilted down during the movement.
“Who are you?” she practically yelled, somehow forgetting where she was, forgetting the possibility of the undead lurking nearby, waiting for any sign of life.
“Shhh!” the girl hissed urgently.
Before Michaela could react, the stranger clamped a hand over her mouth and pulled the shorter woman into a random store, dragging her behind the counter.
A flickering store light buzzed above them, dimly illuminating the cramped space where they now sat hidden. Michaela immediately shuffled backward as far as possible. She didn’t know this person. For all she knew, she could be infected. So she kept pushing back until her spine hit the wall with a soft thud.
The girl turned toward her fully and suddenly Michaela could finally see her face clearly.
“Francesca?” Michaela whisper-yelled in disbelief.
“You have got to be kidding me,” Michaela thought, or actually she had said it out loud because Francesca sat across from her with a scowl on her face, probably in response to the clear distaste in Michaela’s voice.
They sat there for a while, and Michaela couldn’t help but really look at her. All disheveled and bruised, with a small cut above her eyebrow, stains of dried blood covering parts of her face and arms, her jeans ripped, and her jacket covered in dirt and holes. When she looked back at Francesca’s face, the scowl had disappeared, replaced by a look of relief, but it only lasted for a second before her shoulders tensed again, her hands clutching the straps of her backpack as her entire body froze.
“They’re here,” she whispered, her voice trembling.
Michaela looked at her in confusion, eyes scanning around the small store they were hiding in. She had to fight the urge to scoff and roll her eyes, but something about the way Francesca sat there, the genuine fear in her eyes and the uneven pace of her breathing, made her think that for once Francesca was not overreacting. So she crawled back toward the counter, closer to Francesca now.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” she whispered back.
Francesca immediately slapped a hand over Michaela’s mouth. “You have to be quiet. The Echoes… they’re here.”
Michaela scowled at that, but just as she was about to shove Francesca’s hand away, heavy steps echoed nearby, almost as if something was standing right outside the store. Both girls froze behind the counter, trying to stay as silent as possible. Michaela could feel herself shaking, sweat building at the nape of her neck as a shrill sound, something close to a scream, echoed through the mall while the footsteps slowly grew closer and closer.
Michaela snapped out of her fear first, eyes darting around while never daring to look over the counter. There was only one option for them, and that would be the entrance they had come through, the same entrance the Echo had most likely used. So Michaela crawled toward the side of the counter, carefully peeking around it. Nothing looked unusual.
She glanced back at Francesca, who was already staring at her.
Using her hands, Michaela tried to communicate her plan, but Francesca immediately shook her head. There was no way she was doing that. She had been surviving on her own for almost a month now. She had seen things. She had studied these creatures from a distance, learning how to survive around them. Everything she learned had been written down inside her notebook because she knew the knowledge could help people one day.
She had discovered there were different species, each with their own behaviors and traits, which also meant she knew Michaela’s stupid plan was going to get them killed. And there was no way Francesca was going to spend her final moments with her of all people, so she stayed exactly where she was, waiting for the creature to retreat.
Little did Francesca know that while she had been lost in her thoughts, Michaela had already crawled to her side and grabbed her by the wrist, yanking her forward with an unexpected amount of force. Francesca had never known someone that small could be this strong, and before she knew it, she was being dragged halfway across the store toward a clothing rack where long dresses and skirts hid them from view.
The creature let out another awful shriek, making both girls wince because this time it had been right behind them. The fabric of the clothes rustled as the creature’s decaying body brushed against them, its odor making the girls hold their breath as the smell of death consumed the air around them. It stayed there for what felt like forever, grunting softly while looking around before eventually retreating in the opposite direction.
The second the footsteps faded, they took their chance, crawling toward the exit before finally jumping to their feet and sprinting out of the mall. But the moment they burst through the doors, the sound of running stopped them in their tracks.
The ground rumbled beneath them as clouds of dust formed nearby.
“Fuck, they’re coming!” Michaela yelled, immediately looking around for Gealach, but the horse had noticed the danger long before they had. Her hooves thundered against the pavement as she bolted away, the whites of her eyes visible with fear, nostrils flared wildly.
“No, no, Gealach, wait!” Michaela screamed, immediately trying to run after her, but Francesca had already wrapped a hand tightly around her wrist, yanking her backward behind a group of bushes while holding her there as Michaela struggled against her grip.
“No, no, no,” Michaela kept repeating, squeezing her eyes shut tightly.
Eventually she had calmed down. Her breathing evened out before she roughly shoved Francesca away from her. “We need to find her,” she said, determination evident in her voice. “And then we go back to the wall.”
“No, we’re not. We have to go. The sun is setting, and I’m not dying because you can’t survive without your overly grown emotional support dog,” Francesca huffed as she stood up and looked around cautiously.
She knew what happened after sunset. She had a safe place nearby, somewhere she knew they could survive the night. So she hoisted her backpack further up her shoulders and turned around.
“Where are you going?” Michaela asked while watching Francesca walk away from her.
“Somewhere safe, obviously,” Francesca replied without looking back.
Without another word, Michaela got up and followed after her. As much as she despised Francesca, she still wanted to make it home. She had promised, just like she always did before leaving, so she followed her through the empty streets until Francesca suddenly stopped beside a building.
Michaela watched as she crouched down beside an overgrown vine crawling along the wall before tracing it downward toward a hidden sewer lid. She watched as Francesca gripped the metal handle and pulled it open before looking up at her expectantly.
“There’s no fucking way,” Michaela says the second the stench reaches her nose, her face twisting in disgust as she stumbles back from the open sewer lid. The smell was awful, thick and rotten, so heavy it felt like it coated the inside of her throat the second she breathed in.
Franesca, however, looked entirely unimpressed.
“Do you want to live, yes or no?” she asks while holding the lid open with both hands, her voice flat like this was the most obvious solution in the world. Michaela just stared at her for a second in disbelief before groaning loudly and climbing down anyway, muttering curses under her breath the entire time. The second the lid shut above them, darkness swallowed the space whole.
The weak flashlight in Michaela’s hand barely helped. Its beam only illuminated parts of the tunnel, revealing damp brick walls covered in moss and murky water running beneath their feet. Somewhere deeper in the sewer water dripped steadily, the sound echoing endlessly through the tunnels while the distant shrieks above them slowly faded into muffled noises.
Francesca leaned against the wall with a shaky breath, like she could finally relax now that they were hidden underground. “They can’t smell us here,” she explains quietly, wiping sweat from her forehead with the sleeve of her jacket. “And it’s harder for them to hear us as well.”
“This is just great,” Michaela mutters sarcastically while looking around the sewer with clear disgust. “Exactly how I imagined spending my week.”
Francesca scoffs at that. “You think I want to be stuck here with you?”
Michaela ignores her completely, pacing back and forth through the narrow tunnel while trying not to gag from the smell. Her hands tugged through her curls in frustration as her thoughts kept circling back to Gealach.
“Gealach would never leave me,” she suddenly says, almost like she’s trying to convince herself more than Fran. “She wouldn’t.”
Francesca rolls her eyes immediately.
“She knows the way home,” Michaela continues stubbornly. “I’m sure she’s waiting somewhere nearby.”
That makes Fran laugh, but there’s nothing amused about the sound. It’s bitter and tired. “You think your horse is truly going to wait for us? It’s a horse, Michaela.”
“Yeah well,” Michaela snaps immediately, finally looking at her, “she’s kinder and more loyal than you’ve ever been.”
And just like that the sewer falls silent.
Francesca flinches, It’s small, barely noticeable, but Michaela sees it anyway. Sees the way her jaw tightens, the way her eyes flick away for a second before she forces herself to look unaffected.mFor a moment neither of them speaks.
Then Fran clears her throat and looks away completely.
“We’re stuck together now,” she says stiffly, changing the topic so obviously it almost makes Michaela scoff. “So let’s just work together and once we’re behind the wall again we can go our separate ways.”
Michaela says nothing to that. Instead she slides down against the opposite wall, pulling her knees up while gripping her knife tightly in her hands. The sewer suddenly felt too small with both of them inside it, the tension thick enough to choke on. And so they stay there through the night. Listening to the distant sounds echoing from above them.
Every once in a while a shriek would rip through the silence, muffled by the streets above them, and both girls would freeze before the quiet returned again. Neither of them really slept. Michaela kept catching Francesca staring at her whenever she thought she wouldn’t notice, notebook open in her lap while she scribbled things down between long moments of silence.
Michaela hated that stupid notebook. Hated the way Fran treated everything like research instead of survival. But Fran kept writing anyway, pages wrinkled and covered in messy handwriting as she documented whatever she had learned while surviving out there alone.
Eventually the noises above them quieted.
Fran slowly climbed the ladder before carefully pushing the sewer lid open just enough to peek outside. Michaela watched her shoulders tense while she scanned the streets before finally relaxing slightly.
“We can go now,” she whispers while climbing back down. “It’s morning.”
She immediately crouches afterward, opening her small backpack and pulling out that same baby blue notebook again. Flipping through the pages quickly, she scribbles something down while quietly mumbling calculations to herself.
“If I calculated right,” she starts, “we should have about a hundred and eight miles before we reach the wall, so that would probably take us a week. That is if we keep an average walking pace without the help of that four-legged sausage.”
“Her name is Gealach,” Michaela immediately replies with a glare. “And thank you so much for that useless information. How about we stop wasting time and actually start walking?”
Francesca glares back before snapping the notebook shut hard enough to echo through the tunnel. Then she shoves it back into her bag, throws the backpack over her shoulders, and heads toward the ladder without another word.
Michaela follows after her, climbing back outside right behind her. Cold morning air immediately hits her face. The streets were quiet now, almost eerily so. Empty cars remained abandoned in the middle of the road, vines crawling around tires and broken windows while the early morning fog settled between buildings. Somewhere in the distance a car alarm endlessly beeped before cutting off again.
Michaela pulls out her compass.
“This way,” is all she says before starting to walk.