Pain latched onto my nerves as I sucked in a steady breath, filling my lungs with air despite the stabbing in my side. Adrenaline coursed through me, all my training taking over my body with muscle memory. I drowned out the room—the stranger clinging to my jacket out of fear. I listened to the steady pounding of my heart, counting the spaces between beats as I breathed in and out with a steady rhythm. 

The sound the creature made, a keening cry of vicious hunger, set my teeth on edge as I watched its body tense and coil before it lunged at us with impossible speed. 

There was no hesitation as I lined up my shot, holding my ground as it scrambled forward and took aim at its open mouth. The loud bang echoed off the confined space, blood and ichor splattering the walls and dripping onto the floor as the creature crumpled and slid to a stop at my feet. 

My lip curled up in disgust as I stared at the mass of ruined flesh and twisted bones—its mutated mouth lolled open as blood pooled off its long, grotesque tongue. I let out a grunt as I lowered my weapon, the sharp, stabbing pain returning to my side as I hunched over and applied pressure to the weeping wound. 

I watched as the dog beside me sniffed the corpse, lapping up bloody droplets off the ground. “Hey!” I snapped, though my voice was soft as I grabbed my dog’s attention. “Don’t do that, girl.” She whined softly but sat still, my attention turning to the stranger that still had his fingers curled around the hem of my jacket. “You alright?”

His complexion was pale, his brown eyes wide in a way that made his face look younger. He had seemed offended, but with his slender frame and soft figure, it was hard to believe he was as old as he claimed. Worn jeans formed to the shape of his legs, his heavy jacket trimmed with fur at the collar and cuffs; he looked gentle, unfit for a world that demanded fighting for survival.

 It took him a moment to collect himself, tearing his gaze away from the corpse as he snatched his hands back. “I’m okay,” he stammered the words, stepping away from me. His hands rubbed over his face, the gesture seeming to steady him as his fingers pushed up into his ashen blonde hair. I watched him take a deep breath before he lowered his hands to give me a faint smile. “Thanks. You really saved my ass there.” 

I kept my shotgun steady in one hand, listening in the distance. “Fucking hackjaws. Hard to believe two weeks is all it takes for these sick fucks to go from human to rotting hunk of flesh and broken bones.” I spat, staring at the creature at our feet. “And all it takes is a bite. As if tearing apart the city wasn’t enough for them, they gotta feast off every last one of us until we’re wiped out.” 

The man looked sick at my words. 

I cleared my throat, trying not to dwell on ominous thoughts as I muttered, “I was saving my own ass, too. But, you can return the favor if you’re still willing to stitch me up.” I glanced toward the direction the hackjaw had come from, letting out a painful, shallow sigh, “With this putrid mess, they’ll be swarming the place before too long. We should go.” 

“You’re right—this is probably the last time I can come here.” The man’s voice was quiet, sorrow suffusing his expression as he looked around the room. Closing his eyes for a moment, he straightened his shoulders, tugging on the straps of his backpack as he seemed to collect his strength. His eyes burned with determination when he opened them, turning away toward the door he had gestured to before. “Alright, follow me then—and no more questions. We don’t want to be too loud and attract any more unwanted attention,” he grumbled, before he paced forward to yank the door open without waiting to see if I would follow him this time. 

I stepped into place behind him as we made our way outside, whistling for the dog to keep up at my side. She woofed quietly, sniffing the air and ground as her large ears shifted towards noises—scattered leaves, the wind, motion—anything, the both of us waiting for a threat. The air carried a sour tang on the crisp breeze, making me pull my hood tighter around my face. Though I was taller than the stranger, my strides longer, he was quick, hurrying down empty streets and turning down abandoned alleyways. 

I gave another sharp whistle, calling over my shoulder, “Carrot! C’mon girl!” 

She barked from a few feet behind, trying to keep up with the winding directions as she bounded back to my side. I winced, stooping down to give her a pat on her side affectionately. 

The man guiding me slowed abruptly, his gaze holding a hint of incredulous outrage as he snapped, “Are you serious? I thought I told you to be quiet.” Some of his aggravation faded as he shifted his gaze to the dog, and snickered under his breath. He arched an eyebrow at me, a smirk playing on his lips. “Did you actually name her Carrot? I’ve heard some interesting ones, but I have to say, that is…very unique. Poor thing,” he murmured the words to my dog, as if apologizing for me. 

I stiffened with offense as I furrowed my brow, a defensive instinct making my muscles tighten. “What’s wrong with her name?” I muttered, jerking my chin toward the oblivious canine as I said sternly, “She’s orange and likes carrots. What were you expecting? Butch or Rover or something ‘macho’?” I scoffed, shaking my head slightly as I met Carrot’s curious gaze and murmured, “Don’t listen to him, girl.” 

“Maybe just something a little less…on the nose,” he said, the tremble to his voice betraying his amusement as much as the grin on his face. He cleared his throat, dragging his gaze away as he adopted a more serious tone. “I suppose Carrot isn’t so bad, it’s kind of cute. Sadly fresh vegetables are hard to come by, so if she wants a treat she’ll have to settle for the canned version or biscuits now, but I’m happy to give her as many as she wants.” There was a warmth to his words as he picked up his pace again, glancing over his shoulder at me. “And what’s your favorite food?” 

“Now who’s asking questions?” I said with a dry chuckle, unsmiling. How long had it been since I’d conversed with another human like this? Usually when I came across someone else it was quick and didn’t end with friendly, idle conversation. I humored him, admitting only to myself that I was curious about him, too. “I don’t care what I eat as long as it nourishes me. Besides, not like we have much option nowadays.” 

There was a brief moment of silence before the man started to laugh, his expression finally free of the tension he had carried since we met. “Sarcasm isn’t really your thing, is it?” he questioned, letting out a soft huff as he shook his head. “While it’s nice to know you won’t be picky with what I have in my cupboards… I was really asking for your name.” 

My expression dropped into unamused annoyance as I stared at his sunny face. It irritated me that he had no sense of barrier around me—we were strangers, either of us could be playing for some kind of advantage—and I didn’t like how I felt my defenses naturally easing around him either, as if his demeanor was contagious. I debated not answering, keeping some form of anonymity, but if anyone had the advantage it was me. “It’s Jason. You?” 

“That’s surprisingly normal,” he teased, a bounce to his steps as he took another sharp turn through an alley, stepping carefully over piles of junk and garbage. “I’m Dakota. I’d say it’s nice to meet you, but considering the circumstances…” He grimaced, his voice trailing off as he walked out of the alley into a more open space. 

The edge of the pavement dropped off sharply, ending in a sheer drop down to train tracks which I had spotted several times in the city. Dakota nodded toward the edge, waiting for me to come closer so he could speak in soft murmurs, “We have to get down and follow the track. Don’t worry, this one was out of use for a while…not that the trains run now, anyway.” 

There were large plywood boards up along a chain link fence, all graffitied over. I watched as Dakota peered both ways as if he were expecting to be followed before he moved one of the boards. The metal had been clipped along one side of a pole, acting as a stiff curtain as he slipped through the opening, beckoning for me to follow him. 

I held the fence up for Carrot who followed Dakota as if he had a bone waiting for her and then slipped through myself, carefully freeing my hands for a moment to replace the board. My hands were cold, trying to hold the shotgun with my other hand pressed against my side. The clothes over my wound were still tacky with drying blood, though the flow seemed to have slowed from the pressure. 

I was eager to get to Dakota’s safe house, wondering what he could provide…and what kind of dangers would be waiting for me there.