She stared at him.
He grinned weakly.
"Look… your brothers probably found somewhere to hide too."
"Maybe."
Jasper tilted his head.
"You planning to look for them?"
"Yes."
"Across the city?"
"Yes."
He whistled softly....
"Damn, it seems I teamed up with a crazy girl"
A.N- ohh hell yeah she is crazy ＼(°o°)／(ﾉ*0*)ﾉ
Mela looked back out the window again.
Her voice came out quiet but firm.
"I'm not leaving them."
Jasper studied her for a moment.
Then he pushed himself up slowly from the floor.
"Alright."
She looked back at him.
"What?"
He picked up a metal pipe leaning against the wall.
"I guess I'm helping you then." although she wanted his help.
"You don't have to."
Jasper shrugged.
"You already patched me up. I kinda owe you."
He walked toward the back window beside her.
Outside, the street was still silent.
"Besides," he added, "I'm not surviving this mess alone."
Mela watched him for a moment.
Then nodded once.
"Fine."
The banging at the front gate had almost stopped now.
The infected were losing interest.
Soon they would wander away.
And when they did-----
Mela and Jasper would move again.
Somewhere out there in the broken city…
In the streets littered with abandoned vehicles and scattered debris, Mela's brothers found themselves pinned in the back of a small bar. The sun had started its slow descent, casting a dull orange hue over the shattered glass and overturned chairs. Smoke from fires farther down the street lingered in the air, thick and acrid, making the day feel heavier than it already was.
The older of the two, 23-year-old Rafael Cruz, leaned against a stack of boxes in the storeroom. Broad-shouldered, dark-skinned with a slight scar along his right cheek, he kept his eyes trained on the main bar area, which was filled with the low groans and shuffles of the infected. His little brother, 20-year-old Diego, sat on a crate beside him, head bowed, his hands clasped tightly over his knees.
Slighter than Rafael but wiry and quick, Diego's black hair hung in damp strands across his forehead from sweat and dust. Both wore clothes that had seen better days shirts torn and stained but they were alive, for now, and that was all that mattered.
They weren't alone in the storeroom. Two men, slightly older than them, huddled near the far wall, whispering anxiously. One of the men clutched a bat, the other held a small, improvised blade. Two women crouched nearby, wide-eyed and silent, their arms wrapped around each other for comfort.
Behind the counter, two bar attendants mid-twenties and visibly shaken kept glancing toward the door and the windows, expecting the infected to burst in at any second.
Some of them are still out there… but it's quieter now."
Diego swallowed hard. "Do you think… they'll come back?"
"They will," Rafael said, scanning the room with narrowed eyes. "They always do. That's why we stay in here."
The two brothers could hear the low moaning from outside, the dragging steps, and the occasional metallic clang as something bumped against the street barriers. Rafael kept his hand on Diego's shoulder, steadying him, though his own heart raced just as fast.
And then it happened.
A distant explosion rocked the street outside. Glass rattled in the bar's windows, and the sound of the infected's shuffling stilled for a moment. Smoke from the blast billowed upward, hiding the movement of the creatures in a thick gray cloud. When the dust settled enough to see, the number of infected in the main bar had dropped sharply around eight remained, confused and milling in the open space, dazed by whatever had caused the explosion.
Rafael exhaled slowly. "Good… that gives us a chance," he muttered.
Diego's eyes widened. "But… what now? We can't stay here forever."
"No," Rafael agreed. "We move once we have a plan. Wait for them to calm down and then—quiet, precise. That's the only way."
One of the bar attendants, a young woman with shoulder-length hair, whispered, "Do you… think anyone else made it out?"
Rafael's eyes flicked toward her. "Maybe. Maybe not. Doesn't matter right now. We survive first."
Diego shifted, gripping the edge of the crate. "I just… I hope Mela's okay. She's… she's out there somewhere."
Rafael's jaw tightened, but he didn't answer immediately. He couldn't let himself think about that too much. Not now, I have to survival first.
Then worry about anyone else.
The small group exchanged glances, tension thick in the air. The explosion outside had given them a small reprieve, a fragile moment of silence in the middle of chaos. For the first time that day, Rafael allowed himself to think through a plan how to move safely from the storeroom, past the remaining infected, and out into the streets without drawing attention. Diego watched him, eyes wide with a mixture of fear and hope.
Somewhere in the back of Rafael's mind, he could feel the pulse of adrenaline and anxiety coursing through him. He knew this city had changed forever, and that their survival depended on their ability to stay calm, stay smart, and stay together.