Chapter 20: The World Just Love To Prove Her Wrong
The store smelled of decay and stale air. Broken shelves leaned against walls streaked with grime, spilling their contents across the cracked tiles. Zara pressed her back against the counter, cradling Leo tightly. Her breathing was shallow, her chest rising and falling in a rhythm she fought to keep steady.
"Leo," she whispered, her voice barely audible above the faint shuffle of undead feet outside. "Is there anything in your happy place that can cover you? Anything small? A cloth?"
The boy lifted his tear-streaked face from her chest, his tiny hands trembling as he scanned the floor. "I...I think—" His voice cracked, and he bit his lip, concentrating hard.
A coat flopped out of thin air a few feet in front of them.
Zara kissed his forehead, "Good boy, good job," her hands shaking as she pushed through the pain in her ankle to crawl closer. She winced as her fingers closed around a piece of thick fabric. Pulling it free, she realized it was a coat—worn and familiar—Damon’s coat. Her breath hitched.
Had Leo unconsciously pulled it out because it gave him comfort?
The scent of his cologne still lingered faintly in the material, a bittersweet reminder of everything they’d lost. For a moment, the ache in her chest overshadowed the throbbing pain in her ankle. But she forced the emotion down. She couldn’t afford it.
Wearing the coat, she tucked him close against her chest. His tiny arms clung tightly to her, and he buried his face in her neck, his soft sniffles muffled by the fabric.
"Shh," she whispered, stroking his hair. "It’s okay, baby. Mama’s got you. Just stay quiet. Remember? Just like we practiced."
Leo nodded against her neck, and she held him tighter, rocking slightly. A zombie groaned, its decaying frame toppling into a pile of shattered glass. The distant moans grew louder, dragging their feet on the pavement and sending shivers down her spine. Their hiding spot wasn’t safe anymore.
Zara shifted, biting back a groan as her injured ankle protested with every movement. She pressed her back against the shelf, preparing herself. Her vision blurred for a moment, a flash of something—no, someone—lunging from the shadows. The image flickered in and out, her precognition teasing her with fragmented warnings.