Chapter 6
Bella's POV
---
Night again.
Funny how fast days move when you're just trying not to die.
The apartment felt smaller. Darker. Like the walls were holding their breath with us.
Jesse quietly sharpened her kitchen knife on the sink edge.
Alya sat hugging her knees, eyes puffy from silent crying.
Violet paced like a panicked hamster.
The boys checked their makeshift weapons repeatedly.
My stomach growled loud enough to be legally considered a zombie alarm.
"We go tonight," Jesse said finally. "Food won't come to us."
"And roof?" Violet whispered. "What if zombies parachute onto it??"
"No parachuting zombies." I sighed. "Please don't manifest that."
---
The plan ( or as Violet calls it: The Event That Causes My Hair Loss)
1. Quiet exit
2. Check pharmacy and convenience store
3. Avoid dying
4. Come back alive
5. Eat spaghetti and cake in the future
Simple.
Terrifying.
I tied my shoelaces tight.
Alya clutched my sleeve. "I don't… I don't feel ready."
Me neither.
But we move.
---
The hallway outside the apartment was dim, the air stale like fear aged in a bottle.
Halfway to the stairs, we froze.
A scratching sound from one of the rooms.
Soft. Desperate.
Someone here was still turning.
Alya whimpered.
Violet squeezed her hands like a prayer machine.
"Don't look," I whispered.
Because seeing someone becoming a monster is worse than seeing the monster already formed.
We moved faster.
Down the stairs.
Through the gate.
Into the night.
---
Zombies wandered in the dark — slow, confused, hunting by sound.
We crouched behind a car as two shuffled past.
Their skin sagged.
Eyes blank.
Human once.
Gone now.
Violet held her breath like it was a precious limited resource.
Jesse mouthed: *Wait.*
They drifted away.
We sprinted quietly across the street to the convenience store.
A smashed window.
Blood on the floor.
Inside: shelves knocked over, food raided.
"Grab anything," Jesse whispered.
We scavenged fast:
* canned tuna
* crackers
* ramen
* one lonely can of peaches (Violet kissed it)
* lighter
* batteries
Then—
Bang.
A metal shelf clanged in the back.
Something moved.
My throat closed.
Footsteps.
Dragging.
Too fast to be dead.
Jesse motioned GO NOW.
We ran.
A shadow burst out behind us, human-shaped, fast, rabid—
But alive.
A crazed survivor.
Eyes wild.
Skin scratched bloody.
Laughing.
"Oh great," Violet gasped, "we have DLC enemies."
He lunged.
One boy shoved me aside and swung the chair leg.
CRACK.
The man fell — screeching like a feral animal.
Not dead. But down.
We bolted.
---
Inside the pharmacy, it smelled like alcohol and panic.
Shelves mostly empty but we found:
* pain meds
* bandages
* antiseptic wipes
* one pink hairbrush (Violet: "Moral support tool")
A crash outside.
Zombies heard the commotion.
We hid behind the counter.
Alya shook silently. Tears slipped down her face.
"I miss my mom," she whispered, voice breaking. "I miss my house, my bed, everything—"
I grabbed her hand.
"We'll see them again."
"And if we don't?" she choked.
"We will."
She cried quietly, my hand in hers, and that fear punched through my chest — the kind that hurts more than getting bitten ever could.
Because losing people hurts way more than dying.
---
Jesse peeked outside.
Zombies swarmed the street.
"We take the back alley."
We moved through a narrow alley, stepping over trash and avoiding broken glass.
Then a loud SCREECH echoed above us.
We looked up.
Rooftop.
A zombie leaned over the edge, drooling, staring right at us.
"Oh COME ON," Violet whisper-screamed. "They have rooftop DLC too?!"
It pushed forward—
Slipped—
FELL.
Right toward us.
We dove as it crashed onto the pavement, bones cracking.
It twitched.
Jesse stabbed it without hesitation.
My heart tried to leave my body permanently.
We walked fast, trying to stay quiet. The streets got darker, colder, like the world forgot to breathe. Broken cars, trash everywhere, and that smell — old smoke and something dead.
No one talked.
We were tired. Scared. Hungry.
My legs felt heavy, but my heart was heavier.
Alya walked beside me, gripping her bat.
Jesse scanned the road ahead, always alert.
Violet kept looking behind us, scared something would grab us from the dark.
And the two boys — Rico and Mateo— stayed close.
They were the ones we met before reaching the gym… and now they were with us again, helping carry water and canned food.
But something was wrong.
Mateo's breathing sounded rough.
His skin was pale, sweaty.
He kept touching his arm, where a jacket sleeve looked torn.
Rico noticed me staring.
He shook his head like he was trying to calm himself — and me — but his eyes said everything.
He knows.
We reached a corner and froze.
Dozens of zombies dragged across the street ahead.
Slow.
Hungry.
Empty eyes.
Dead bodies walking like they forgot how to be human.
"Back, back!" Jesse whispered.
We pressed against a wall, hiding.
My hands were shaking.
Happy birthday to me, right? What a party.
Mateo suddenly coughed — loud.
My stomach dropped.
The zombies turned toward us.
"No, no, no, not now…" Alya whispered.
We ran. Again. My lungs burned. Violet almost tripped, so I grabbed her wrist and pulled her.
We turned into an alley, breathing hard, hearts racing.
Mateo dropped to his knees, holding his head.
Rico knelt beside him, panicking.
"Bro, please. Stay with me. You said you were fine—"
Mateo looked up.
His eyes… weren't normal anymore.
My chest hurt.
I knew this look.
We all did.
"Rico," Alya said softly, voice breaking. "He's turning."
"No!" Rico yelled quietly, holding him. "We can help him! We— we just need time—"
Mateo growled.
His fingers clawed at the floor.
His body shook.
And then he lunged at Rico.
Alya swung her bat, stopping him mid-air.
The sound echoed.
Mateo fell still.
Silence.
Rico stared at him, frozen.
Tears fell down his face, hitting the ground like tiny broken pieces.
"I told him we'd survive together…" he whispered.
I wanted to hug him.
I wanted to scream.
I wanted the world to stop taking people.
But we still heard growls getting closer.
"Rico." Jesse spoke gently. "We have to move."
Rico wiped his tears, nodded slowly, stood up — but he didn't look at Mateo again.
We started walking.
Step by step.
Tired. Scared.
Trying not to fall apart.
And all I could think was:
*Why does everyone die on my birthday?, actually it's not my birthday anymore but it feels like it*
Got it — **continue + mix** the paths.
No new random characters.
Same flow.
They're on the way to the apartment, shaken, Rico grieving, tension high.
The street felt heavier after Mateo…
Like the air turned thicker, harder to breathe.
Rico walked behind us, silent.
His steps dragged, like every step hurt.
No one blamed him — he just lost someone.
Again.
We moved slowly now, staying close to walls.
Every shadow looked dangerous.
Every sound felt louder than my heartbeat.
"We're almost there," Jesse whispered.
"Our building is three houses away."
Almost.
Just a little more.
We could rest. Eat. Breathe.
Just survive one more night.
But when we reached the apartment gate…
The door was already open.
My stomach dropped.
Someone was inside.
A soft rustling sound came from upstairs.
A slow footstep.
Then another.
Alya whispered, "Weapons ready."
Violet clung to my sleeve, shaking.
I squeezed her hand — trying to be strong for her even if I felt like glass inside.
We stepped inside carefully.
The lobby smelled like dust and old food.
Chairs were knocked over.
Pictures on the wall crooked.
Jesse raised his crowbar.
Alya held her bat.
I gripped my knife tight.
Then — a voice upstairs.
"…hello?"
We froze.
It wasn't a zombie.
It sounded scared. Human.
Jesse whispered, "Stay quiet. Could be a trap."
But suddenly Rico broke.
He stepped forward and shouted — voice cracking,
"We're alive! We're not infected!"
"Agh — Rico!" I hissed.
His voice echoed through the building.
Too loud. Way too loud.
A sudden growl answered from somewhere down the hall.
Not human.
Violet whimpered. Alya cursed under her breath.
Footsteps rushed down the stairs — fast.
A figure appeared — messy hair, backpack, holding a kitchen knife, terrified eyes.
"Please don't hurt me," the person whispered.
Before we could answer—
A zombie crawled out from behind the reception desk, snarling, drawn by Rico's yell.
Everything happened at once.
Alya swung.
Jesse grabbed the stranger's arm and pulled them back.
Violet covered her ears and screamed softly.
The zombie hit the floor, still twitching.
Alya kicked it away, breathing hard.
Silence again.
Rico sank to his knees, shaking.
"I didn't mean to… I just… I don't want to lose more people…"
His voice cracked.
He looked so tired. So broken.
I knelt beside him.
"I know," I whispered. "We're all scared too. But please — don't shout again. We need you alive, okay?"
He nodded weakly.
The stranger stood awkwardly, still holding their knife.
"I'm… Kai," they murmured.
"I've been hiding here since morning. I heard screams earlier and—"
We all exchanged tired looks.
Another survivor.
Not a threat… at least not right now.
Jesse exhaled slowly.
"Okay. We'll stay the night. But tomorrow… we move again."
I leaned against the wall, exhausted.
Another day alive.
Another person lost.
Anyone could be next.
But at least… for now…
we weren't alone.
And sometimes, that's enough to keep walking.
Understood — **continuation + mix**, same characters, no replacing, no changing events already happened. One of the boys is infected, but they don't know yet. We continue right from where we stopped, inside the building, with Kai now there.
---
We shut the front door behind us and slid the metal lock in place.
The echo of the bolt clicking felt like one of the only things in this world that still worked.
The lobby was dark except for weak sunlight creeping through the dusty glass.
Jesse motioned at us to move quietly, and we followed the stairs up, step by careful step.
Kai walked close, eyes scanning, knife in hand like he expected shadows to grow teeth.
Rico trailed behind, quiet… too quiet.
He moved slower than all of us now.
His breathing sounded heavier.
I pretended not to notice.
Alya pretended not to notice.
Jesse definitely noticed — her eyes kept cutting back at him.
But no one said anything.
We were all tired of losing people.
---
Second floor landing.
The hallway smelled like old carpet and fear.
Jesse whispered, "Check apartments. Carefully."
We split in twos.
Me & Violet.
Alya & Jesse.
Rico with Kai.
We didn't want Rico alone — not after what happened.
And Kai seemed steady. Quiet, tense, but aware.
I opened the first door.
Empty living room. Broken lamp. Shoes scattered like someone ran out fast.
Violet tugged my sleeve.
"I'm scared," she whispered.
I squeezed her hand. "Me too."
We kept moving.
Across the hall, Alya opened another door — clean inside, untouched.
A kid's drawing still taped to the fridge.
Stick family holding balloons.
The dad's balloon floated away.
We shut the door fast.
Didn't need that kind of sadness.
---
Then it happened.
A thump.
Sharp. Heavy. From down the hall.
Jesse froze.
We all did.
Rico's voice shouted — panicked:
"GET BACK!"
Then snarling — wet, vicious.
We ran.
At the end of the hall, a zombie had lunged out of a half-opened apartment door, pinning Kai to the floor.
Kai struggled, knife shaking inches from his throat.
Rico grabbed the zombie's shirt, yanking — too weak, too slow.
I didn't think.
Didn't breathe.
I jumped and slammed my bat down hard.
Crack.
The zombie hit the floor, twitching.
Alya kicked it again, just to be sure.
Kai rolled over, gasping.
Jesse pulled him up by the collar, checking for bites.
"You good?" she asked sharply.
Kai nodded. "Yeah — yeah. Didn't… didn't get me."
Jesse exhaled.
But my eyes had already shifted to Rico.
He was pale.
Sweat dripping down his forehead.
Breathing ragged.
Eyes unfocused.
And on his wrist — hidden under his jacket sleeve until now —
a bruise-like mark.
Purplish.
Too round.
Too sharp on the edges.
Not a bruise.
A bite.
My stomach dropped through the floor.
Rico noticed me staring.
He pulled his sleeve down fast, shaking.
"Don't," he whispered, voice cracking.
"Please don't."
Everyone looked at him.
Silence thicker than fear.
Violet covered her mouth. Alya's eyes filled.
Jesse's jaw clenched like she wanted to scream but held it in by force.
I felt cold.
So cold I couldn't feel my hands anymore.
"Rico…" I whispered, voice barely there.
He stepped back like the truth might bite harder than the infection.
"I—I can still help," he stammered.
"I'm not turning yet. I can fight. I swear. Please…"
His knees nearly buckled.
Kai looked between us, confused, scared.
"Is he—?"
"Yes," Jesse said, voice steady but breaking at the edges.
"He's bitten."
Rico shook his head desperately.
"Please don't leave me. I don't want to die alone."
My throat burned.
My knees felt weak.
He wasn't just a teammate.
He was a kid like us.
A boy who tried to save his friend.
Someone who still hoped to see his family again.
And he was infected.
A ticking heartbeat.
A countdown.
A friend with death stuck in his skin.
"We're not leaving you," I whispered.
Not yet.
He looked like he would collapse from relief.
But deep inside, something else also settled in me:
Fear sharper than teeth.
Because tomorrow, we fight again.
But tonight…
We might have to fight him too.
We didn't yell.
We didn't panic.
We just… stood there, staring at someone we cared about like he was already halfway gone.
Rico leaned against the wall, shaking so badly I thought he'd collapse.
Alya whispered, voice trembling,
"Rico… why didn't you tell us?"
He swallowed hard.
"I thought I could hide it. I thought maybe I'd be okay. Just—just a scratch, you know?"
But it wasn't a scratch.
We all knew that now.
Jesse lifted her chin, fighting tears she didn't want us to see.
"We need to tie your hands. Just to be safe."
Rico didn't move.
Then, slowly, he nodded.
"Okay," he whispered.
"But… please don't lock me alone. I can't— I don't want to be alone."
His voice broke on the last word.
My chest felt like it cracked in half.
Violet wiped her eyes with her sleeve.
"We—we won't leave you. Promise."
Kai looked uncomfortable, but kind.
He handed Jesse a roll of cloth strips he got from the first aid kit.
Rico sat on the floor.
Didn't fight.
Didn't argue.
He held his wrists out like someone accepting handcuffs.
Alya couldn't watch.
She turned away, crying quietly.
Jesse tied his hands gently — like tying a bandage, not trapping a friend.
Rico laughed softly, sad.
"Feels like a sleepover… just, uh… the apocalypse version."
I forced a smile I didn't feel.
"We've got you. Okay? We're here."
He nodded, eyes wet.
"Thank you. Just… if I change, don't let me hurt anyone."
Silence again.
No one wanted to be the one to promise that.
---
Night came fast.
Too fast.
We barricaded the main door, placed a chair against the balcony, checked every window twice.
Rico lay on the couch, breathing unevenly, hands tied but comfortable.
We covered him with a blanket.
He looked freezing.
Alya sat beside him, stroking his hair like a scared sister.
I held my bat while she held my arm like it was the last warm thing in the world.
Jesse checked the locks one more time. Not twice — like five times.
Her hands shook a little, but her face stayed stone serious.
Violet wandered around the kitchen like she was searching for magic food to appear.
She opened a cabinet.
Closed it.
Opened it again.
"Still empty," she muttered. "Just like my will to live."
I grabbed an apple from earlier and rolled it to her.
"Share this with Alya."
Her eyes softened. "I didn't say I was starving, I said I was dramatic."
"Same thing," I whispered.
She took the apple anyway.
Across the room, Alya sat on the couch edge, holding Rico's hand despite the cloth around his wrists.
She talked to him quietly — not about zombies, not about dying — but random things.
"Remember that amusement park we planned?" she murmured.
"The one with the huge ferris wheel?"
Rico laughed weakly. "Yeah. You wanted to ride all the scary ones."
"And you didn't," she teased.
He smiled. "Yeah… I kinda regret that now. Should've ridden everything."
Alya's eyes filled again.
"We still will. You're not done yet."
Rico looked down, breathing slow like each inhale took effort.
Kai sat nearby, sharpening his knife on a piece of tile he'd found.
I didn't know if he was trying to stay ready or trying not to look sad.
Probably both.
He looked up.
"I can take second guard shift," he offered quietly.
"That's mine," I said.
"You can take third."
He nodded.
For a moment, it almost felt normal — like tired students cramming before exams instead of preparing to not die.
Then a sudden crash outside made everyone jump.
Glass breaking.
A scream in the far distance.
A car alarm that sounded like it died mid-cry.
Violet flinched.
Alya hugged Rico tighter.
Jesse moved toward the window but stopped halfway like she didn't want to see what was out there anymore.
My heart hammered — loud enough I thought the walls could hear it.
But nothing pushed through the door.
Nothing ran up the stairs.
Just chaos outside.
And us inside.
Barely holding together.
I breathed out slowly.
"We made it through one more hour."
Violet nodded.
"Cool. That's… 23 more for a full day. I hate this math."
Alya sniffed a tiny laugh.
Even Rico smiled.
And somehow — somehow — that tiny moment felt like we punched the apocalypse in the face.
The night deepened.
We barricaded the door, windows, everything.
Rico lay on the couch under a blanket, shaking but trying to look brave.
Alya sat beside him. Jesse and Kai took first watch. Violet curled up near me.
Outside, the city groaned with distant screams and breaking glass.
Then—
scratch… scratch… scratch…
Something dragged across the hallway outside our door.
Slow.
Hungry.
We all froze.
"Is that—" Violet whispered.
"Shh." Jesse raised a hand.
The scratching continued, louder, then stopped.
Silence.
Too quiet.
A soft, low moan echoed from just behind the door.
Not normal.
Not human.
My heart tried to punch its way out of my chest.
Rico sat up weakly, pale, sweating, shaking.
"If I turn tonight…" he whispered hoarsely, "don't hesitate."
My throat tightened so hard I could barely breathe.
"You're not turning," I whispered back.
"You're still here."
He managed a tired smile.
"Then I'll fight with you until the last second I can."
Outside, the scratching returned.
Faster this time.
Like nails hungry for wood.
For us.
Kai whispered, voice low and scared,
"They know we're here."
Yeah.
They always do eventually.
But we stayed quiet.
We stayed still.
And somehow, that made us feel strong.
Because fear didn't win tonight.
Not yet.
We were bruised, tired, terrified… and still here.
A tiny human heartbeat against the dark.
And one promise echoed in my chest:
We are not losing anyone else without a fight.