Page 4 of The Last of Love

The more he spoke, the more disgusted she became. His plan would guarantee her safety, but at what cost? She would be complicit in his tyranny, another cog in the machine of oppression. He wanted her to believe she would be untouchable, that the world he’d build would ensure her survival and comfort. But Fleur knew the truth: safety bought at the cost of others’ suffering wasn’t safety at all. It was a prison.

She thought back to all the times she had fought for the underdog, for the people who couldn’t afford to fight for themselves. All the long hours in the lab, the battles with corporations who prioritized profits over people. And now, in this new world, it was the same battle all over again. Men still trying to seize power, still trying to control what wasn’t theirs to control.

As he droned on about his vision of the future, Fleur had made her decision. She would leave tonight, quietly, without a word. She couldn’t risk confronting him; he had too much influence, too many loyal followers. But she had her own plans, and they didn’t involve being his puppet. The world didn’t need another self-proclaimed ruler. It needed a cure, and it needed to be in the hands of someone who cared about people, not power.

Things had been unstable here for a while now. There was an undercurrent of unease in the community, one she had felt the moment she arrived. She’d grown used to it by now: the distrust, the constant shifting of alliances, the desperate need for survival that brought out both the best and worst in people. Ever since the outbreak, this had been her reality. No community had been able to offer her true safety. She had learned that the hard way, moving from one place to another, always staying just long enough to collect herself before the inevitable collapse forced her to move on.

The lab in New York City had been her last true refuge, but even that had been torn from her when the outbreak began. No more security, no more routine, no more control. Since then, her life had been nothing but a series of near escapes and endless running. Not that it made her any different from the rest of the survivors; none of them had it easy. But while everyone else fought off the undead and scavenged for food, Fleur had been fighting her own war. She’d been chasing the cure, piece by piece, in secret. The hope that kept her going wasn’t survival. It was a solution.

In every community, she’d worked quietly, unnoticed, testing, experimenting, gathering the tools she needed. But here? This place was different. Here, she had found something, something real, something that might be the answer to all of this. The breakthrough she had been working toward for what felt like a lifetime.

But with that discovery came a problem. She couldn’t trust anyone. Not here, not now. The people in this community didn’t know who she was or what she carried with her. If they did, they’d either beg her to stay and save them all, or worse, they’d take the research for themselves and try to use it as leverage. Knowledge like hers had become dangerous. The idea of acure, something so precious and sought after, could turn people against each other faster than any zombie could.

As Fleur was packing, her thoughts drifted back to the life she’d had before the outbreak, a life that felt like it belonged to someone else now. She had it all. She had an accomplished career and, more importantly, a partner she loved deeply. That thought, though, hit her like a punch to the gut. The memory of her partner, the love they'd shared, was a wound she wasn’t ready to reopen. She shook her head, forcing the image away, burying it under layers of focus and determination. She couldn’t afford to think about that right now. It was too raw, too distracting.

Instead, she focused on her work. All the work she had left. Before everything collapsed, she had been on the verge of a breakthrough in pathogen research. She was a leader in her field, specializing in viral mutations and vaccine development. Her goal back then had been ambitious: to make vaccines more affordable, more accessible, so that no one would have to suffer from diseases that could be easily prevented. That mission had felt vital, her life's purpose. But now? None of that seemed to matter.

The only vaccine that meant anything now was the one that would stop this plague, the virus that had decimated the world. Everything else paled in comparison. The entire future of humanity, as bleak as it seemed, might depend on the work she had yet to finish. She was so close to finding the answer, but the risks were enormous, and getting to Ohio was just the first step in a long, treacherous journey.

Fleur’s fingers lingered on the zipper of her bag for a moment. She didn’t want to leave, not yet, not when she was so close. But if she stayed, it wouldn’t be long before someone noticed. She’d kept her head down as long as she could, blending in with the tired, wary faces, working under the radar. But thewindow was closing. Someone would figure it out. Someone always did.

She pulled the zipper shut, the sound startlingly loud in the quiet room. Leaving immediately was the only choice she had left.

Now she just needed someone to escort her to the research base in Ohio. That base was her last hope, the place where she could safely finish the vaccine. The vaccine she believed could save what was left of humanity. But finding someone she could trust, someone capable of making the journey, wasn’t easy. Most people these days were out for themselves, or worse, eager to profit from the chaos.

There was one name that kept coming up: Lena Sorenson. Fleur had heard whispers of her reputation from survivors she had met in different communities. Tall, strong, and unyielding, Lena had been head of the New York Fire Department by the age of 32, a position that spoke volumes about her capabilities. She was a leader of her community in this new world, which meant surviving, making the hard calls, and protecting those who couldn’t protect themselves. It also meant she didn’t take shit from anybody. She was made to survive.

Fleur had never met Lena, but she had learned enough to know that she was not like the other leaders she had encountered. Most leaders she’d encountered in this post-apocalyptic mess seemed to be driven by greed or personal gain, but Lena didn’t seem that way. The stories about her were consistent. She was firm, fair, and loyal to her community. But even with everything she’d heard, Fleur couldn’t be 100% sure she could trust her. Trust was incredibly hard to come by these days. Still, Lena felt like her best shot at getting to Ohio.

It was risky, but risk had become a part of life now. Fleur made the decision quickly, packing only what was necessary. She knew she had to move quietly. If word got out that shewas leaving, questions would follow, and she couldn’t afford to answer them. Things had been getting dicey in the community lately, tensions rising, and she had learned the hard way not to trust anyone too deeply. Every community she had passed through since the outbreak had its own dark secrets, and this one was no different.

Fleur slipped away in the dead of night, moving carefully, her heart pounding in her chest as she left the safety of the compound. The world outside was treacherous, but she had learned how to navigate it. The zombies were predictable in their own way, and she had studied their patterns enough to avoid their usual haunts. Lena’s community wasn’t far, and she knew the landscape well enough to stay off the beaten path. Every step was calculated, every movement deliberate. She couldn’t afford a mistake.

By the time she reached the perimeter of Lena’s compound, the sky was just beginning to lighten with the faintest hint of dawn. She paused, catching her breath, and took a moment to steady herself. Now all she could do was hope Lena was the person she’d heard about. The person who could help her get to Ohio and finish what she’d started.

Fleur hadn’t had the luxury of looking or feeling put together in a long time, but first impressions mattered, especially here. She didn’t want to look like these past three years had stripped her of her confidence, even though they had. In the brief privacy she could manage, she changed into something cleaner and less worn out by survival. She needed to appear like her old self, cold, calculating, and in control, even if that person felt like a ghost now.

The entrance to the compound was heavily guarded, as she had expected. Fleur approached the gate and pressed the buzzer, trying to keep her impatience in check. She was quickly metby a large, lumbering guard whose expression could only be described as… vacant.

"Uhhh... are you infected?" he asked, his voice slow and uncertain.

Fleur almost laughed at the absurdity of the question, but instead, she scoffed. “If I were infected, do you think I’d be buzzing myself in? Ever met a zombie that can hold a conversation?” She raised an eyebrow, hoping to speed this along.

The guard blinked. He was clearly not the sharpest tool in the shed. “Uhhhm... okay ma'am… one moment.”

She clenched her jaw, doing her best to suppress the urge to roll her eyes. This was taking too long. Standing out here, exposed, wasn’t part of her plan. Sure, the area seemed clear, but she knew how quickly things could change. Her foot tapped against the ground uncontrollably, nerves starting to get the better of her. Just as she considered pressing the buzzer again, a voice crackled through the intercom. It was strong, firm, with a sarcastic edge.

"What brings you here to grace us with your presence?"

Although Fleur had never heard Lena’s voice, she could tell it was hers. Even through the intercom, her tone carried authority, the kind of confidence that both irritated and intrigued her.

3

LENA

Dawn had finally broken, the faint light cutting through the early morning mist as Lena and Fleur slipped quietly out of the community. It hadn’t been home, not really, but it had been a refuge, a place to gather herself and focus. Now, as they left, Lena didn’t feel much in the way of nostalgia, though the faces of the people she was leaving behind tugged at her conscience. She could only hope that Gene would keep his word, that he would protect them. It was all out of her hands now.

The first part of their journey had to be done on foot. No cars were kept near the community. Being so close to a military base meant they hadn’t needed to venture out often for supplies, a rare stroke of luck in a world where most people were scraping by. They couldn’t risk attracting zombies with the noise of a car engine, not until they were far enough away. Once they hit a gas station, Lena would find them a car that looked like it could take them the distance.

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