The rain tapped quietly on the broken car roofs as Benny and Milo crouch-walked toward the next rusted sedan. Mud sucked at their shoes. The wind groaned through cracked metal. For a moment it almost sounded like the world itself was sighing.
Then they heard it.
A low, hungry growl from somewhere ahead.
Milo froze instantly. His little hands flew up, covering his ears as tight as he could. His bottom lip trembled.
"Penny… me scared…" he whispered, voice shaking. His whole body had gone stiff with fear, knees knocking together.
Benny leaned close, placing a steady hand on the back of Milo's head.
"I know. I know," he whispered softly, keeping his tone calm even though his heartbeat spiked. "Stay right here. Don't move, no matter what. And if you see any infected—run straight to me. Immediately. Got it?"
Milo nodded fast, almost too fast. His eyes were wide and wet, but he held his breath like Benny told him once—quiet saves you.
Benny squeezed his shoulder once for comfort, then slipped away.
He crept up to the broken window of the next car and peeked inside. Just one infected, dragging its foot in circles like it forgot what it was looking for. Good. Isolated.
Benny moved around the hood, stepping slowly, rain pattering softly on his shoulders. When he reached the corner of the car, he raised his pickaxe—
And drove it straight into the infected's skull.
The impact cracked like a rock hitting wet wood. A spray of dark blood splattered across his shirt, warm even in the cold air. The body slumped silently.
Three more remained behind the small metal fence. Their fingers scraped along it, drawn by the sound but unable to climb.
Benny pulled himself over the bent railing, boots squelching in the mud below. The lot was full of abandoned cars—perfect cover. He slipped between two trucks, spotting two infected crouched over a dead raccoon, ripping strips of fur and meat with sloppy, wet bites. The third wandered by itself, head twitching.
"That's the easiest one," Benny murmured.
He took one quiet step—
A cold, dead hand shot out from beneath the car beside him and clamped around his ankle.
Benny's eyes blew wide.
"Shit—!"
The thing yanked hard, pulling him off balance. The lonely infected turned, locking onto the noise and stumbling toward him with a hungry groan.
Benny slammed down with the pickaxe, crushing the wrist of the hand that held him. Bone cracked. The grip loosened. He twisted free just as the infected reached him.
It lunged.
Benny swung upward, the pickaxe punching through its jaw and into the brain. The creature collapsed in an instant, twitching once.
Two left.
He wiped his sleeve across his brow, breath clouding in the cold air. His hands shook—but he forced them still.
"Almost done… almost done…"
He slipped past the gas pump, water dripping from the broken hoses, and crept toward the last two infected still gorging themselves on the raccoon.
One fast strike.
The first's skull caved in with a crack.
The second looked up, mouth smeared in blood, eyes empty. It didn't even finish standing before the pickaxe pierced straight through its temple.
Silence returned.
Benny exhaled, shoulders sagging. Rain washed streaks of blood down his shirt.
"Coast clear!" he shouted.
Then, softer—
"The monster went away."
Milo peeked up from behind the car he was hiding behind, curls sticking to his forehead from the rain. The moment he saw Benny alive, he sprinted forward on tiny legs.
"Penny!!"
Benny knelt down just in time to catch him before the kid tripped on the broken pavement.
"Boy," Benny said, rubbing Milo's back, "you are going to give me a heart attack one of these days."
Milo frowned in confusion.
"I din't give you a fart attract…"
Benny blinked, then snorted. "Heart attack. Not—never mind."
Milo giggled, clutching Benny's muddy shirt.
Benny checked him quickly—arms, neck, hands—for any scratches or bites. Nothing.
"Alright. You're good to go, kiddo. All safe with no bites."
Milo puffed out his chest proudly.
"See? Me say I wasn't scared."
"Right, right. Of course you weren't," Benny said, smirking. "Not at all."
Milo nodded hard, as if trying to believe his own lie.
Benny stood and ruffled Milo's hair. "Come on. Let's check the gas station. Maybe we'll get lucky."
Milo tugged on his sleeve.
"Find candy?"
"If the world feels generous."
Milo gasped dramatically. "World… GEN-erous means candy!"
Benny laughed under his breath. "Sure. Let's go with that."
Together, they walked toward the shattered doors of the gas station—the teenager covered in blood and the child clinging to his shirt.
The moment they stepped into the gas station, the sour smell hit them first.
Two bodies lay slumped together near the door—hands still touching, faces gray and sunken. Flies crawled lazily across the dried blood on the tiles.
Milo froze, eyes widening, shoulders curling inward like he wanted to shrink into nothing.
Benny saw it instantly.
"Don't look," he whispered, guiding one hand over Milo's eyes.
Milo pressed both palms against his face.
"O-Okay…"
Benny gave his head a small pat, then stepped carefully around the corpses. Shards of broken glass crunched under his boots. The air smelled like rotten eggs, spoiled meat, and something worse—something wet and sour and human.
"God…" he muttered under his breath. "This place got ransacked to hell."
A fresh wave of the stench hit him and he gagged, covering his nose with his sleeve. "Ugh—damn, that's bad."
He turned slightly toward Milo.
"You smell that?"
Milo nodded with his whole upper body, still covering his face.
"Y-yeah… it smells weally bad…"
"Yeah," Benny said, coughing. "No kidding."
He searched the aisles, stepping over spilled food, torn packaging, and empty shelves. Every drawer had been dumped. Every cooler smashed open. Nothing was left but rot.
"Great," he muttered. "Nothing. Not even a cracker."
He pushed deeper into the back section—the counter area. The gate door was smashed. Boxes overturned. And there, behind the counter, were two more bodies. An older couple, lying close together like they'd tried to hold each other at the end.
Benny stared for a moment. His chest tightened.
They deserved better than this.
He scanned the area and spotted a small blanket stuffed under the fallen shelf—a soft one, pale blue, covered in little daisies. Probably meant for a grandkid who never made it here.
Benny picked it up, shook the dust off, and knelt beside the couple. He spread the blanket over their torsos gently, pressing the corners down so it wouldn't slip.
He swallowed hard.
Then crawled back over the counter and returned to Milo, who was still waiting obediently with his hands over his eyes.
"Alright," Benny said softly. "You can look now."
Milo peeled his hands away slowly. His eyes scanned the store, landing on the glass, the blood, the mess. He didn't look at the bodies—Benny had positioned him so he wouldn't have to.
He whispered, "Penny?"
Benny rubbed the bridge of his nose.
"It's… Benny," he corrected. "With a B."
"Oh." Milo sat down on the floor, legs crossed. "Benny… where do people go… wen they die?"
The kid's voice was tiny—almost afraid of the question itself.
Benny felt his stomach drop. Out of all the things he'd prepared for—infected, hunger, cold—this was the one he never had a perfect answer for.
"I don't know, kid," he said quietly. "People say they go up in the clouds… with God."
Milo stared at the cracked ceiling as if trying to see clouds through it.
"But… these days…" Benny added, his voice low, "I'm starting to think maybe He stopped watching. Let the whole world go to sh—" He stopped himself and forced a softer word. "—trash."
Milo looked down.
"Oh…"
He hugged his teddy bear tighter and his little feet kicked weakly against the floor.
Benny sighed and sat next to him. He rubbed his face with both hands, exhausted. "And it seems there's no candy in here."
Milo's head snapped up. "No candy??"
"None," Benny confirmed. "Completely cleaned out."
Milo slumped dramatically, letting his arms flop to his sides.
"Aw… I wan some…"
Benny nudged him gently with his elbow.
"Hey. Don't give up on me yet. We'll find something. Somewhere."
Milo leaned against his side with a little huff, trying to be brave—but disappointment clung to his tiny voice.
"Okay… but I want somethin' sweet, Benny…"
"We'll get you something sweet," Benny promised, standing and helping the boy up. "Just gotta keep moving."
Before they could walk out, a sudden, high-pitched scream ripped through the air—sharp enough to rattle the cracked windows. Instinct kicked in. Benny grabbed Milo by the shoulders and yanked him down behind the ruined counter.
Milo gasped and curled into himself, arms wrapping around his knees.
"F-… wh-what was dat…?" he whispered, voice trembling so hard each word shook.
Benny didn't answer yet. He slowly inched upward, peeking through a jagged gap in the dusty glass. What he saw made his stomach twist.
Not normal infected.
One stood crooked in the parking lot, its back hunched, skin stretched tight over bones. Long claws—too long—hung from its fingertips like rusted knives. The second limped into view behind it. Then three more crawled out from between the abandoned pumps, moving with an animal-like twitchiness.
Five total. All bunched together. All blocking the way back to the car.
Benny's pulse hammered against his ribs.
Shit… never seen those before. No idea what they can do…
This was bad. Really bad. But he couldn't let Milo see that.
He looked down. Milo's small hands were shaking, gripping his own arms so tight his knuckles had gone pale. His eyes were wide, brimming with fear but trying so, so hard to be brave.
"Benny… I'm **scawed**…" Milo whispered, voice cracking.
Benny put a steady hand on the boy's head and leaned in close.
"Hey, hey… look at me. You're okay. You hear me? I got you."
Milo nodded—or tried to. It came out more like a tiny wobble.
Benny gently pulled Milo's hands from where they clutched his arms.
"Listen. You stay right behind me. Don't look outside. Don't peek. Don't move unless I say so."
"O-okay… I stay… I **pwomise**…"
Another scream echoed outside—closer this time, sharper, like something hunting.
Milo flinched so hard his whole body jerked. His breath hitched, and for a second Benny thought he might cry.
"Breathe," Benny whispered, placing both hands on Milo's shoulders. "Just breathe. In and out. Like we practiced."
Milo sucked in a shaky breath, then let it out slowly. His lip still trembled, but he didn't break.
"Good," Benny said softly. "You're doing good, kiddo."
He swallowed hard, kept his voice even. Calm. Strong.
Inside, panic churned in his gut—*those things could tear the whole gas station apart if they got inside.*
He looked once more through the glass. The creatures prowled around the car, sniffing, twitching, claws scraping the metal with an awful screech.
Blocked in. No clear path.
No idea what they were.
And Milo…
Benny drew in a slow breath, forcing his heartbeat to settle.
"Stay close," he murmured, tightening his grip on the pickaxe. "We're gonna figure this out."
Outside, the five clawed infected turned their heads at the same time, as if sensing something.
Then the tallest one let out a deep, rattling growl—
Behind him, Milo pressed himself against the counter wall, trying to make himself as small as possible.
Benny's hand tightened on the pickaxe.
Five of them. One of me. And a kid who can't run fast enough.