my zone emerging through the fog, now black and thick with smoke.
I ran towards the open gate, a lump clawing its way into my throat. Burning embers swirled around me, singeing my clothes and leaving small burns on my skin. I barely took notice as I burst through the gate.
The scene was chaos, with people frantically trying to salvage things from the fire. One of the people swung at me with a pitchfork, catching me in the gut with the blunt staff.
My eyes watered and stung while the man geared up for another attack. “Leave him!” a voice bellowed. I could make out someone pouring water from a bucket up ahead.
“Grab something and help me put out these flames!” John shouted, gesturing at a fire breaking out in the guard area. I approached him, shielding my face from the heat.
“Where is Kaatje?” I shouted, dread filling my stomach. “She headed up to the apartment building with a group of refugees, talking about getting them to safety.”
I was already tearing away up the street, leaving him to protest to the wind. There was only one block of flats in the area, marked out as a safe zone long before I was born. I ran as fast as I could, cutting through alleyways where possible.
Scenes of devastation lay before me at every turn, civilians and bandits lay dead or dying, some even beginning to reanimate. I ignored it all, the burning buildings, the blood-soaked streets, even the cries of lost children. The world I once knew sped past me in a blur as I closed in on my goal.
My destination came into view, an old apartment building, dilapidated and abandoned, distinguishable only by the tattered sign that hung from its roof. It used to read ‘HELP’ before a storm ripped away the ‘P’ and was a preoutbreak relic remaining in this zone.
I sprinted towards it, navigating a slalom of rusted cars, my legs burning and sweat pouring down my face. I reached the front gate and bolted through and took the stairs two at a time. Reaching the top, I pressed myself against the wall, my lungs aching for air. My hands shook as I drew my knife, the sense of dread becoming even harder to ignore. The big glass doors hung slack on their hinges and I entered the lobby, a white-knuckled grip on my weapon.
There she was.
She hung from the nails in her hands, naked and blood-soaked. One leg was broken, a shard of bone protruding from her thigh. Other women lay in pools of fresh blood all around her. I rushed over to her, tears falling from my eyes, my whole body numb from the claws of ice clutching my heart.
I raised my hand to her face and jumped back as her head lurched forward, white eyes wide under her matted hair; teeth bared and spit falling onto her pale skin. I dropped to my knees in front of her, my knife clattering by my side.
I looked up into her once beautiful features, now twisted by bloodlust and hunger. Her body jerked, striving to be free of the nails holding her. A shadow moved to my left, and her attention diverted, her eyes facing somebody else.
Laughter, deep and vengeful laughter, crawled up my spine and into my ears. A hand grasped my hair and pulled, yanking me to my feet. I stood looking into the singular eye of a heavily built man, his thin mouth curved in a sick smile.
A knife hilt hung around his neck.
My knife hilt.
I looked back to the floor, seeing the stiletto laying there gleaming in the light of the flames outside. Looking back up into his face I could make out a scar protruding from behind a leather eye patch and my stomach flipped. I had stuck my old blade into the eye of this man on the day I met Kaatje, and now he had reaped his revenge on her.
I forced myself to look at her, hanging and snarling at the two potential meals stood before her. I took a step towards her and another. I could sense the bandit growing concerned.
A further step and I was almost nose to nose with Kaatje. “Oi!” the bandit shouted, “Get back over here!”
I ignored him; continuing to stare into Kaatje’s shining white eyes and letting all else fade from my mind.
I moved forward and embraced her.
The pain was instant, her teeth ripping excitedly into my shoulder. The bandit shouted something but the pain ringing within