Page 5 of The Last of Love

Lena cast a sideways glance at Fleur, wondering if she was up for this. Fleur stood at about 5’7”, with a build that suggested she was more than just a brilliant geneticist. Judging by her credentials and all the schooling she must have done, Lenafigured Fleur was probably in her early forties. But looking at her now, it was hard to tell. She had that rare kind of agelessness; her face carried a few lines, sure, but her body told a different story. Lean, toned, like someone who had spent years running, not for exercise, but for survival. In this world, endurance was everything. You couldn’t get far without being able to run, without having at least some athleticism to fall back on.

As they moved through the overgrown streets, Lena couldn't help but marvel at how quickly nature had reclaimed the land. Trees had burst through the cracks in the pavement, vines crawled up the sides of buildings, and animals roamed freely. It was almost serene, like the earth was healing itself in the absence of human interference. She found herself wondering if the virus had been some kind of cosmic reset, a way for the planet to rid itself of the plague of mankind.

The world had changed, but in some ways, it felt safer now. Sure, there were zombies lurking about who might try and eat you, but at least you didn’t have to worry about getting mugged—or worse—like you did before the outbreak. There was something simpler about it. Lena had encountered plenty of zombies over the years, but most of the ones they’d run into lately were slow, shambling things. The fresh ones, the dangerous ones, were rare now. But if you ran into one, you’d know. Their milky eyes gave them away, but by the time you saw those eyes, it was probably already too late.

Even the slower zombies still posed a serious threat. Sure, they shuffled along at a frustratingly slow pace most of the time, but they had sharp olfactory senses that made up for their lack of speed. They could smell a living person from a distance, and their hearing? That was even more sensitive. But the sensitivity depended on the age of the rotter.

For the newer ones, the moment they caught a whiff of fresh prey or heard the slightest noise, they were relentless, movingwith a single-minded fury that didn’t stop until they sank their teeth into flesh.

What made them even more dangerous, though, was their tendency to travel in packs. One zombie? Manageable. A group? That was a different story. They flocked together like animals, moving in herds, and once they had you in their sights, it was over. Alone, a zombie could be handled, but in numbers they became a deadly force.

As they walked, Fleur started rambling about pathogens, infections, and blood. Lena could tell it was nerves, but damn, the woman didn’t know when to quit. She was droning on about some trial involving a foot-long needle and brain injections when Lena finally cut her off.

"Can we just walk in silence? Don’t you worry someone might hear us?"

Fleur shot her a look, clearly annoyed but trying to keep her composure. "Talking helps the time pass." she said. "Doesn’t it help you?"

"Nope," Lena replied flatly. "I’d rather focus with silence."

“It’s difficult for me to understand how someone in a leadership position could be so cold and bitter,” Fleur said, frowning.

“Well, believe it. Everyone has to find their way to survive out here,” Lena shot back, eyes scanning the horizon.

Fleur fell silent, pouting in a way that almost made Lena smirk. But at least now she could pay attention to their surroundings. The silence let her listen for anything out of place, any movement in the distance. There couldn’t be any distractions. They couldn’t afford mistakes.

After another few hours of walking, they reached an abandoned gas station. It looked untouched since the outbreak, which was a good sign. Cars littered the parking lot, and, evenbetter, there were gas pumps. This was exactly what Lena had been hoping for.

"Did you pack any medical supplies?" Fleur asked as they approached the building. "I couldn’t bring much with me."

"I’ve got bandages," Lena replied, keeping her eyes on the cars.

"Bandages? That’s it?" Fleur sounded incredulous, as if she’d expected Lena to be carrying a whole trauma kit.

Lena rolled her eyes. "What did you expect? I can’t take precious supplies from the community. We’ve got what we need to get by. Times are hard, in case you hadn’t noticed."

Fleur pursed her lips, clearly unimpressed with sarcasm. "Well, there’s a medical office right over there," she said, pointing across the street. "I’m going to check if there are any supplies we can take."

"I don’t think that’s a good idea," Lena said, narrowing her eyes. "Why don’t you stay here? I’ll handle the car."

"My ‘precious, intelligent little behind’ is going to get us medical supplies that could save our lives. If one of us so much as scratches ourselves on a rusty nail, we’re dead. So how about you worry about getting us some wheels, Ms. Former Firefighter?" Fleur retorted, arms crossed.

Lena sighed, biting back a retort of her own. The woman had a point, even if her attitude grated on her nerves. "Fine," she said, turning toward the nearest car. "But don’t take too long. We need to move fast."

Fleur gave her a curt nod before heading toward the medical office, and Lena watched her for a moment before focusing on the task at hand. They didn’t have time for bickering. The sooner they found a car and got out of here, the better.

Lena filled up a few empty cans with gas, surprised there was any left in the tank. This place must’ve been far enough off the beaten path to keep scavengers away. After loading everythinginto a reliable-looking Subaru, she decided to walk around back, mostly to pass the time while Fleur was off on her little medical mission.

That's when she saw it.

Blood, splattered across the grass and parking lot, thick and dark, but not yet washed away by rain. It was old, but fresh enough to raise every red flag in Lena's mind. Instantly, she was on high alert.

“Damn stubborn ass had to get medical supplies,” Lena muttered, annoyed at how reckless Fleur was being. She had no idea how many zombies were near. Was it one, two, or a whole horde? But she knew one thing: they were likely dormant, just waiting for some noise or a scent to set them off. And what were she and Fleur? Walking, talking stimuli.

Suddenly, she heard a loud crash from inside the building.

Without hesitation, Lena bolted into the medical office. Her heart sank when she saw Fleur, pale and breathless, struggling to keep a zombie at bay with nothing but an IV pole.

“Why didn’t you call for help?!” Lena snapped, half-angry, half-incredulous.

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