The world ended.
Benny was only ten at the time. Wandering the streets, starving, freezing, too tired to be afraid. Just smoke and silence and cold asphalt under bare feet. Everything inside was hollow and done.
Then a baby cried.
Soft and cracked like a broken music box in the distance. That baby was Milo.
He could've walked past. Should've. But he didn't. Picked the kid up out of instinct, or maybe mercy, or maybe some stubborn part of him that still wanted to fight. Either way, that baby became the only thing keeping him from laying down and giving up. Milo was the reason he was still breathing.
Now Milo was six, and Benny sixteen. Short, skinny, pale. White T-shirt, black jeans, bright blond hair that wouldn't stay out of his eyes. No gear, no weapons worth bragging about. Just him and the kid. But that was enough.
It was 2033. Rain slid down the windshield in crooked lines. The wipers groaned every time they passed. The road beneath the car was dirt and mud, cutting through the forest like a scar. Trees leaned in on both sides like they were watching.
Milo sat curled up in the back seat, wrapped in a blanket, tapping the foggy window with one finger. His afro bounced a little every time the car hit a bump. In his arms was Officer Crunch—his battered teddy bear, one eye missing, patches on his chest where stuffing peeked through.
"You okay, kiddo?"
A small nod.
"No, you're not. Come on. You can talk to me."
Milo let out a soft sigh and hugged Officer Crunch tighter.
"He not talkin' again."
"Officer Crunch?"
"Yeah… he just real quiet."
"Hmm. Maybe he's mad."
"But I didn't do nothin'," Milo said, frowning.
"I know. He's probably just tired. The rain gets to people sometimes."
Milo ran his hand over the bear's head, gentle like it might fall apart.
"He only talks when it's warm. I think he gets scared when it's rainin' and cold. Like now."
"Yeah. That makes sense."
He shifted a little, pulled his knees in, then slowly put one hand on his stomach.
"You feeling okay?"
"My tummy hurts," Milo muttered.
Benny glanced back again, more alert now.
"Is it bad? Like are you gonna throw up?"
Milo shook his head. "Nah… just hungry."
"Right. Hang on."
One hand on the wheel, the other feeling around under the seat until fingers closed around something small. An old crumpled chocolate bar—half melted, but still edible.
"Got lucky."
Milo's eyes lit up when Benny handed it to him. He carefully peeled the wrapper, like he was opening treasure.
"Thank you, Benny."
"Of course. But listen—if you're ever hungry, or sick, or anything feels off, you need to tell me right away, okay? Don't keep that stuff to yourself."
"I will. Promise."
He took a bite, chocolate smearing across his cheek. A second later, he held the bar up to Officer Crunch.
"He said he want some too. But only the last bite."
"Smart bear."
Milo stared at the bear seriously. "He said if I don't share, he gon' bite me when I sleep."
"Can't have that."
The road ahead narrowed. Just trees and rain and miles of mud. But for a moment, the car was warm and quiet.
"Benny?"
"Yeah?"
"Is it okay to be scared… even if you're big?"
Benny took a breath.
"Yes. Especially if you're big."
Milo leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes, Officer Crunch held tight in his arms. The rain kept falling, soft and steady.
And for the first time in a while, it didn't feel like they were just surviving.
They were living.
After a few more minutes of driving, the trees thinned out and the muddy path opened up into what used to be a parking lot. Cracked pavement, tall weeds, a crooked sign that barely hung above the building.
They'd made it.
The gas station.
It stood slouched in the rain like it didn't want to be noticed. Glass shattered. One pump was ripped clean off. Moss growing on the edges of the roof. The kind of place that looked like it had been dead long before the world ended.
Benny cut the engine. Rain drummed on the roof like fingers tapping a warning.
He leaned forward, squinting through the wet windshield. Four infected. Wandering near the front entrance. Slow. Mindless. One was missing a shoe. Another dragged half its leg like it forgot how walking worked. None of them had spotted the car yet.
He pulled out the tattered notebook from under the dash. Flipped to the page labeled "INFECTED" in all caps. Quick notes scribbled in a sharp, almost panicked hand.
If they bite you, you're infected.
They'll eat anything.
They're not afraid. Mindless husks. Don't feel pain.
Headshots only.
Benny closed the notebook and tucked it away again.
He glanced into the back seat. Milo was sitting up now, eyes wide and curious, still holding Officer Crunch. The kid was quiet, but not calm.
"Alright, Milo. Remember what I told you, okay? If you see any infected, you duck down. Make sure they don't see you."
Milo blinked, then frowned.
"But I wrant to come wiff you."
"No, it's too dangerous. I can't risk bringing you with me. You stay in the car, lay low, alright?"
Milo pouted, lower lip sticking out like a shelf. His little fists tightened around his bear.
"Mreety pleeease, Penny?"
"It's Benny. Not Penny."
"...Penny."
Benny closed his eyes and let out a long breath through his nose. He looked back toward the gas station. Only four infected. Wandering slow. It wasn't ideal—but it wasn't the worst odds either.
He turned back to Milo.
"Okay. Fine. You can come with me."
Milo's eyes lit up instantly. He sat straight up, grinning like it was his birthday.
"Yesss!"
"But—" Benny held up a finger. "You need to listen to everything I say. No wandering off. No yelling. And stay very, very close to me. Like glue. Got it?"
Milo tilted his head. "What's glue?"
"You don't know what glue is?"
Milo nodded confidently. "It's poo... and um, when I use the pathbroom!"
"…The what?"
"You know! The pathbroom! It's loud and it go like—"
He made a buzzing noise and mimicked a vacuum.
"…Toothbrush?"
"No! The big one! For da carpet!"
"…You mean a vacuum?"
"Ohhh. Yeah."
Benny rubbed his eyes. "Okay. I'll teach you what glue is later."
He reached to the passenger seat and grabbed the climbing pickaxe he'd found a few towns back. Dented but sharp enough. Useful in close quarters. He shoved it through the belt loop on his jeans.
Opened his door slowly. Rain poured in immediately, soaking his shoulder. He stepped out, then quietly opened the back door and crouched.
Milo climbed out, small feet landing softly on the wet pavement. Benny shut both doors gently. The car gave a small creak but nothing loud enough to draw attention.
Milo whispered down at his bear. "Bye Offier… stay here and don't be scared, okay?"
Benny tapped Milo's shoulder. "Get down."
Milo dropped into a crouch instantly, copying the way Benny moved. They crept behind a rusted-out car shell near the front row. The smell of moss, rust, and old fuel clung to everything.
Benny peeked around the bumper.
The infected were still there. One was closer now, but hadn't noticed them. Rain helped cover the sound. That was something.
He leaned close.
"Okay, Milo. I need you to be brave. Can you do that for me? No noise. No screaming. Alright?"
"But I'm not scared," Milo whispered proudly, puffing out his chest.
"Right," Benny muttered. "You said that last time. Then you screamed because a bird flew at you."
"It was big!"
"It was a pigeon."
"It had big flappy arms!"
Benny narrowed his eyes. "Wings."
"Same fing!"
"Okay. Also, we need to work on your grammar."
"What's grammar?"
"Exactly."
Milo giggled a little, then covered his mouth. Benny gave him a quick nudge on the shoulder.
"Shhh. We're close now. Eyes up. Quiet feet. Stick to my side like... what?"
"Glue!"
"Atta boy."
They crouched together behind the car, just a few yards from the front of the station. Benny's hand hovered near the pickaxe. Milo clutched the edge of Benny's shirt, eyes wide, but steady.
And just like that, they moved.
Two shadows slipping through a world of the dead—one protector, one child. Both small, but not alone.