Apocalypse Days: I Rule with Foresight and a Powerful Son

The night was unreasonably quiet, save for the crackling of the campfire. Its orange glow licked at the surrounding darkness, casting long, flickering shadows over the barren, snow-covered landscape. Zara sat close to the flames, arms wrapped around Leo, rocking him unconsciously as she stared at Winter. He was sprawled out on the other side of the fire, his rifle resting beside him, his dark hair messy against the bundled-up jacket he used as a makeshift pillow. His chest rose and fell with a steady rhythm.

Her eyes flickered down to the sleeping form beneath her coat. Leo stirred slightly, his small hand clutching the fabric as if sensing her distress even in sleep. Her heart ached.

The firelight wavered, and her vision abruptly shifted.

A vivid image slashed across her mind: Winter’s rifle raised, his icy blue eyes locked onto her as his finger curled around the trigger. The roar of the shot shattered the silence, and she stumbled back, her chest searing with pain.

Zara gasped, jerking upright as reality snapped back into place. Her breath came in shallow bursts, the cold air biting at her lungs. She pressed a hand to her chest, half-expecting to find blood, but her fingers met only the worn fabric of her coat.

Get it together, she scolded herself, shaking her head. He hasn’t hurt you. He wouldn’t... right?

With trembling hands, Zara dug through her pack and retrieved a worn pen and a crumpled scrap of paper. She hesitated, glancing at Winter again.

Winter,

Thank you for everything. But we can’t stay. This is better for both of us. Stay safe.

—Zara