How far was her fucking mansion anyway??
Lila's nails dug into my wrist hard enough to bruise as we continued to run. My legs are burning, lungs shredding, vision swimming—but she doesn't slow down, not even for a heartbeat.
This would've felt like easy cross country for me if we weren't practically running for our lives.
The moment we burst out of the alley, the noise hit like a wall—sirens, shouting, glass shattering somewhere behind us. Her presumed "bunker" felt a million miles away, and the place I grew up in felt like hell leaking into the streets.
The metro entrance yawned open ahead of us like a black tunnel leading underground—leading out.
I hoped.
"We're taking the green line."
We barreled down the stairs. The station was chaos. The police were everywhere—guns drawn, shouting, trying to keep back the growing crowd of people who moved with jerky, violent motions.
Serve and protect, huh?
"Back up! BACK—UP!"
Someone charged an officer with a pipe. The shot echoed like thunder. They fell but still twitched on the ground, like their body hadn't gotten the memo.
"Don't look," Lila muttered.
I did anyway.
The line between people begging to get on the train and the ones like that guy—the ones moving with that twitchy, violent edge—became unclear fast. Screams, shouts, and the occasional metallic clang of someone hitting a railing made it impossible to tell who was humane and who wasn't.
Officers tried to keep order. Quick screenings happened at the doors. One cop shined a flashlight directly into a woman's eye,
checking her cornea, then practically shoved her onto the train without a word. Her cry of protest got swallowed by the chaos.
My gaze flicked to Lila, and my stomach dropped like a rock.
I knew I was okay. But what about her?
She wasn't like the others, not completely… but she wasn't exactly normal either. That unpredictability made my skin crawl.
Not that I cared all that much. Losing her wouldn't break me—except… it would be a real pain in the ass if she died now.
When the crowd surged, the cops had no choice but to shove us along with everyone else. The safe ones. Bodies pressed against ours, warm and sweaty, a mix of panic and aggression radiating like heat. We stumbled, nearly falling more than once, but somehow we made it onto the train.
We were damn lucky.
Inside, it was cramped—people panting, crying, bleeding, begging to call loved ones. My pockets felt empty.
Phone's in the apartment.
Of course it is.
Was this just Englewood? The South Side? Chicago?
If it was…maybe I still had a chance to leave this wretched place and start over.
The doors slid shut with a metallic groan. Relief washed through my body, just for a second.
Then the stabbing started.
Outside, a woman lunged at an officer, driving a knife into his neck. He gasped, eyes wide, collapsing. No one moved to stop her. They just pushed farther away.
I wasn't surprised.
Poor guy.
The train lurched forward, accelerating out of the station. Lila let out a shaky laugh—way too cheerful for the moment—and threw her arms toward me.
"We made it, baby!"
I leaned away instantly. She was drenched in blood. Not hers—hopefully. Her smile faltered.
I should've said thank you.
I should've hugged her back. Anything. She's the one who's been protecting me so far, after all…
But my pride strangled the words before they could leave my mouth.
Lila lowered her arms, frowning. A pang of guilt hit me.
"What's our stop, anyway?"
"My parents live in Hyde Park. We'll be safe there."
I didn't look at her. Didn't look at anyone. I just leaned back, letting my head rest against the top of the seat, eyes closing as I exhaled through the exhaustion pressing on me like an anchor.
Don't think.
Don't think.
Don't—
"You know," Lila whispered, leaning close, "you're always free to sleep on my—"
"No."
One word. Sharp. Final.
She went silent.
Just as I was about to sleep for real, my eyes flickered towards a woman a few seats away. I noticed her freaky hair first—
Liberty spikes, bleached at the tip.
Her face had been adorned with piercings and dermals. They didn't really take away from her beauty, but…i personally wouldn't get so much.
Her clothes screamed grunge. A ripped black flannel hung loose over a faded band tee, the edges fraying like she'd worn it through a dozen fights. Her skinny jeans were torn at the knees, streaked with dirt and something darker that could've been blood. Heavy combat boots, scuffed and scratched, thudded against the train floor with every subtle shift of her weight. Around her wrists were leather bracelets, chains, and a few studded cuffs that jingled faintly.
She stuck out like a sore thumb on a train filled with crying babies fearing for their lives.
Pretty hard core. Respect.
Yet, my admiration had been cut short as I saw her eyes meet mine. They were red. Only a little bit. But…I could still notice.
My heart froze once the smile came. Creepy. Predatory.
I quickly chose to mind my own business, closing my eyes as I tried to pretend that hers didn't still linger.
I probably triggered Lila into a staring contest with her. I was way too tired to even deescalate anything.
The train rattled on, carrying us deeper into whatever the hell the world had just become.
"Baby, wake up. This is our stop."
Lila's voice was soft, cooing—but somehow sharp enough to slice through my foggy exhaustion. The feeling of something soft and warm pressed against the side of my head, familiar and maddeningly comfortable, and for a second, I didn't want to move.
Then reality hit me. Hard.
Goddamnit. I'd ended up sleeping on her lap anyway.
I pushed myself up slowly, muscles screaming from the hours of running and the claustrophobic crush of the train. The metallic tang of the air, mixed with sweat and the faint coppery scent of blood from earlier, made me wince.
Glancing around, my eyes immediately searched for the strange woman with the piercings. Gone. A strange relief washed over me, replacing my disappointment—but it was uneasy.
I shook my head, trying to focus, trying to shove down the lingering edge of paranoia. Lila hummed something softly, brushing a hand over my arm like nothing had happened.
Yeah, right. Nothing had happened. Sure.
I glanced out the window at the dark, blurred tunnels, feeling a nagging knot of dread in my gut.
"Let's not linger. My parents are waiting."
Lila's voice was brisk, commanding. She got up and tugged at me like I was a reluctant child, and I sluggishly scrambled to keep up as she led us out of the metro cart. The crowd thinned as we emerged into the dimly lit station. The quiet… it was worse than the chaos. Silence like that never meant safety.
"My place is only a few blocks away from here,"
She assured me, practically skipping up the stairs.
Relief trickled in—but it was half-hearted. I glanced at her as she moved, effortless, sure. How could she be so certain her parents were even alive? That the house hadn't been abandoned or looted already?
It was easy to rely on her way of thinking before she went off the deep end. Now…I wasn't sure if I could trust her judgement.
The streets were eerily empty, lined with pristine homes and parked SUVs that hadn't seen traffic in hours. Typical. These people had the luxury to high-tail it after the outbreak started. Meanwhile, we'd been dodging death in Englewood. I stole another look at Lila. God knows why she decided to come live with me when she had such a good ass neighborhood.
She really did love me that much, huh?
We were nearing her parents' place when the first shots cracked the air. My stomach plummeted.
The sight froze me. People—infected, I realized—were charging toward the barricades, arms flailing, weapons swinging. Each one went down under a hail of bullets from CPD officers, heavily armed and ready. The contrast was brutal. Why couldn't Englewood get this kind of energy?
Before any of the attackers could notice us behind them, Lila grabbed my arm and shoved me behind a nearby building. Cold, precise, calculated.
She knew the terrain. Of course she did. An alternate path, invisible to anyone who didn't know the neighborhood.
We pressed ourselves to walls, ducked under low fences, and slipped past hedges. Finally, we reached inside the innermost part. The relief was immediate, visceral. For the first time in hours, I dared to exhale.
And then:
"HEY!"
I whipped around. A police officer stood a few feet away, gun raised.
"Hands where I can see them!"
Typical. I complied immediately. Lila mirrored me without hesitation.
"You. Step forward."
I did without question.
He took out his phone's flashlight, He checked the crevices of my eyes, corneas burning from the harsh light. After a tense moment, he nodded and stepped back.
"You're free to go."
Then, his gaze turned to Lila. The prime suspect. Bloodied. Her kitchen knife—
Scattered on the ground beside her. Good call.
"Hey…you're Ms. Graham's daughter, aren't you?"
She nodded. A faint smile tugged at his lips.
"You two are free to go."
Relief hit me like a wave. I wanted to drop to the ground and just breathe, but I stayed upright, letting the tension drain slowly from my shoulders. Thank God for that man.
We had finally reached her parent's house after minutes of walking. Mrs. Graham's voice rang out from the doorway, bright and warm.
It didn't sound panick filled. You'd think that she was completely oblivious to brutality outside.
"Lila, you're back! Good to see you're okay!"
I had only met Mrs. Graham twice. Each time I did, her mannerisms always suprised me. When Lila and I started dating, she made it known that her family didn't approve of a lot of the boys she talked to.
Especially the broke ones.
"And I see you've brought your boyfriend too! I haven't seen you since Christmas!"
It was apparent that she had taken an unprecedented liking to me. What can I say? Something about me, I guess…
The older woman engulfed me with a warm hug— her large breasts pressing against my chest. Her presence was imposing yet strangely comforting. Her perfume, expensive and floral, brushed my senses as her brunette hair lightly grazed my face.
I hugged back gently, before stealing a glance at Lila….
Who seemed to have already been staring. She looked at grim as ever. Not a face you'd have when finally reuniting with family.
I pulled back, careful to signal that the hug was over, and forced a polite smile.
"Good to see you, Mrs. Graham."
Her smile widened, warm and genuine, and I felt a small ease in my chest.
"Where's dad?"
Lila asked coldly. Her eyes didn't soften.
"Oh…He left with one of the emergency rescue teams.."
The fuck? Then why is she still here?
"He wanted to make sure the family in Florida was safe. Said he'd check on them and report back once everything was okay."
There was silence. I know Lila was thinking the same thing I was.
"But enough about that,"
She broke it.
"Why don't we have dinner? I'm sure you two must be tired after traveling all this way."
My heart throbbed after hearing those words. I knew the food would be good if it came from the Grahams.
Well deserved, I'd say.