Jaxon stared at the man's still body one last time. His hands shook harder, and before he could stop himself, he turned to the side and threw up. His stomach twisted, the aftertaste mixing with the stench already filling the room.
He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, then slowly stepped out. His head was lowered, his eyes dull, like all the strength had been drained out of him.
Natasha was waiting in the hallway. The moment she saw his face, she understood without needing to ask.
"Jaxon... you..." Her voice broke slightly as she stepped forward and pulled him into a tight hug.
Her arms wrapped around him firmly, her soft body touching his. The feeling snapped him out of his shock little by little, grounding him.
"It's okay," she whispered softly. "You didn't do anything wrong. You only helped him... you saved him from worse."
Jaxon let out a shaky breath and hugged her back, leaning into the comfort she offered.
After a short moment, he pulled away gently.
"I'm okay now, Sis. Thanks," he said, forcing a small but grateful smile.
Natasha nodded, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze.
"Let's go," he whispered. "We still have things to do."
They walked down the hallway in silence. Neither of them mentioned what they had seen or what Jaxon had been forced to do. They didn't need to. The memory sat heavy between them.
Before leaving, he glanced back at the room. His chest tightened.
'I can't ever let this happen to my family,' he thought. The image burned into his mind, fueling a deep, fierce determination.
He stepped forward with a new fire inside him, one that was stronger than fear.
They walked out of the gate without looking back. Whatever fate waited behind that house was already sealed. What mattered now was what lay ahead.
They didn't talk much as they moved. Both were still shaken, but they kept going.
Soon, they started roaming through the neighborhood, going from one house to another. Every now and then, a zombie would appear, wandering alone between the empty streets.
Fortunately, the ones they met were the usual kind. They were still fast and strong, but as long as Jaxon stayed calm and shot them from a distance, they fell one by one without trouble. Each kill earned him more coins, adding up slowly.
Inside one house, Natasha pointed at the shelves. "Should we grab some food?" she asked, looking at the canned goods and the stuff in the fridge.
"Take what you want. We can't carry everything," Jaxon said.
She nodded and picked a few things, frozen meat, canned food, and some spices. Just the essentials.
They continued checking house after house, careful and quiet. By the time they finished the last one in the block, they finally reached the first overturned military vehicle lying in the middle of the road.
Jaxon walked around it, checking every corner and every gap under the metal frame. After a long moment, he finally relaxed his grip on the rifle.
"It's clear," he whispered.
They stepped closer.
"Natasha, start grabbing the guns. I'll keep watch." Jaxon positioned himself a few steps away, his eyes scanning the street.
Natasha quickly picked up the M16 lying on the ground. Dust covered the metal, but it looked usable.
"How do we know this thing still works?" she asked, carefully turning it in her hands.
"Just take it for now. We'll check everything once we're home."
She nodded, then leaned inside the overturned vehicle. The inside was cramped and dark, but she still reached in to grab anything she could find. Metal clattered softly as she pulled out weapons one after another.
While she was busy, Jaxon looked around again and noticed a soldier's body half-crushed under the vehicle. There was no gun on him, but something round caught Jaxon's eye. He bent down and picked it up.
A grenade.
'If I use this, the whole city might hear it,' he thought. 'But it might save us one day.'
He slipped it into his bag.
"Jaxon, I got everything!" Natasha said with a small spark of excitement. She came out carrying two pistols and three M16 rifles.
"Good. Let me help." Jaxon took the rifles and placed them in his bag, while Natasha kept the two pistols.
"Let's go," Jaxon said quietly.
Together, they began to retreat from the area.
But then Jaxon froze.
Far in the distance, tiny shapes were moving. At first, they looked like shadows, but when he lifted his rifle and checked through the scope, his eyes narrowed.
Almost seven hundred meters away, more than twenty zombies were wandering through the streets. They weren't fast, but they were heading in their direction.
He reacted at once and grabbed Natasha's arm.
"Jaxon...?" she whispered, confused.
"Zombies," he said quietly. "Dozens of them."
Her expression changed immediately, and without wasting time, Jaxon pulled her toward the nearest house.
They slipped inside, checked every corner, and made sure no zombies were hiding inside. The place was bloody, the furniture overturned, the walls scratched, but at least it was empty.
They locked the door and moved deeper into the house, keeping their breaths low.
Minutes later, the sound came.
Slow at first... then louder... then heavier.
Footsteps.
Dozens of them.
Jaxon and Natasha peeked through a small gap in the window.
More than thirty zombies were approaching, filling the street outside.