Page 30 of Her Shadow

The wind hit her like a wall, cold and biting, but she welcomed it. The air outside the walls tasted different—sharper, rawer, alive with the untamed world beyond.

As she walked, Kara’s mind raced, her thoughts jumping from one worry to the next. Where would Sam have gone? Would she have tried to head toward the mountains? Or maybe she’d gone south?

Where did she say her tribe had gone? Think! Think!

But the truth was, Kara didn’t know. She couldn’t remember. And that scared her more than anything. Sam was resourceful, sure, but she was also vulnerable. Kara’s heart clenched at the thought of Sam, cold and scared, with no one.

Her pace quickened. Every rustle of the windandevery snap of a twig made her jump. Her senses wereon high alert.

Please let her be okay.

The world outside Fort Haven was wildanddangerous. Kara knew that better than anyone. She had been out scouting, leading expeditions beyond the walls, navigating the chaos of the post-apocalyptic landscape time and time again. But never like this. Never with this gnawing fear in her chest, this desperate need to find the person she loved before it was too late.

She hated herself for letting it get this far, for letting Sam walk away without a fight. She had let doubt and fear cloud her judgment, and now Sam was paying the price.

Kara’s eyes stung, and she blinked furiously, refusing to let the tears fall. She didn’t have time for weakness. Not now. Not when Sam needed her. Her focus was singular—to find Sam and make things right.

But… she also knew it may be too late.

12

SAM

The sky had darkened. As she looked up, Sam thought the colors were fading from the world itself. Sam crouched low behind an overturned truck and spent a couple of minutes trying to catch her breath. Blood caked her hands, and her thighs burned from running. She’d been in a fight — a desperate one — with more zombies than she could count, and the heavy sensation of dread weighed on her like a boulder in her gut.

She wasn’t sure if the gnawing pain in her side was from the deep gash she’d gotten from falling on a jagged rock as she exited the woods and made her way onto the road or from something worse. From the fight. Her mind raced as she felt the muscles twitch beneath her skin, and her thoughts whirled in dizzying loops of paranoia.

Had I been bitten?

The fear of having been infected itched inside her like a poison spreading through her veins. She scanned the ground around her, looking for any sign of movement. She knew one of them was still following her, one of those pale, relatively fast-moving beasts that haunted her footsteps. She was terrified. Butmore than that, it felt as if something was changing in her body. Was it panic? Or something much, much worse?

I can’t die. Not like this.

The growl came from just a short distance behind her. It was a weird, wet sound spilling through the air. The creature’s footsteps seemed more sluggish now but still persistent. She could hear it sniffing the air. It was in hunting mode, and she was trapped.

Sam’s hands tightened around the knife in her grip, but even as she held it, her body felt weak. Her heart hammered against her ribs. She gritted her teeth, sweat stinging her eyes. If she were infected, she couldn’t wait to find out. She had to end things on her own terms.

She heard a noise from the undergrowth yards away. She imagined the creature getting closer, its gaunt body making its way over to finish her off. Was she imagining it, or could she smell rotting flesh?

“Fuck,” she hissed, her throat tight.

She was in over her head. She’d only just made it out, but it looked like the battle wasn’t over.

She was ready to fight like an animal— no holds barred. She's done it in the past—heck, she’d done it just a few minutes ago. Her knife had found its targets, slicing into rotting flesh and severing heads. But they’d just kept coming. She'd felt their hands on her, cold and decayed, dragging her down. She fought through them, slicing and thrashing until she could escape. But she'd obviously taken a hit — a deep one. And there was still one zombie left.

Sam glanced down at her side, pulling back the torn fabric. The cut was terrible. Deep enough to bleed through her fingers… but it wasn’t the bite she’d been dreading. The skin was torn from a sharp edge, not teeth.

It’s not a bite.

But this realization didn't stop the gnawing uncertainty. She still felt sick. Burning up. If she changed—if she turned into one of those things—she wouldn’t have long.

Footsteps.

This time, they were closer and heavier. The groaning was louder and more distinct. The creature had found her.

Sam held her breath and crouched lower. She could see it in the shadows, its silhouette emerging through the gloom. It staggered toward her, its hands still outstretched, the hollow remnants of what used to be a face twisted in a permanent, agonized scream.

She stood up slowly, her knife gleaming in the faint light as she prepared herself. This was the last one, the last thing standing between her and…well, she didn’t know. Between her and whatever came next.

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