CHAPTER 23: 23: THE WORLD SUDDENLY TURNED COLD

City B, November 4th? Year 0 of the Great Collapse

Winter huffed, his breath curling in front of his face. The cold stung his face, but his senses remained sharp. He scanned the path ahead, his fingers brushing the handle of his machete, ready for any threat. The world around them was silent, save for the crunch of their boots against the frostbitten dirt.

Behind him, Zara trudged awkwardly, her steps uneven, her breath coming in soft, uneven puffs. Winter glanced back briefly, catching the clumsy way she shifted her weight with each step. She kept tugging at her coat, pulling it tightly around her torso as if afraid of the chill seeping through.

As they passed a wrecked car, Winter’s thoughts drifted to the last few days they’d spent holed up in an abandoned house.

Flashback

The storm hit unexpectedly, with heavy and fast snow falling, trapping them inside. Winter glanced at Zara in the dim light of the abandoned house, the storm outside howling with relentless fury. It was good that she had mentioned the clouds coming in...though he hadn’t seen them when she did. But he decided to listen to her anyway. After all, who knew what would fall from the cursed skies at any moment? Getting caught in acid rain would have been a slow, tortuous end.

The air inside was stale, and the walls creaked under the strain of the cold. Zara had been sitting by the fire, nursing her ankle, her face tight with pain.

What the hell was she hiding under there? It couldn’t be an animal—most of the wildlife had either died or mutated in the early days of the outbreak. And even if it were an animal, why would she be hiding it from him?

A child? He shook his head. No way. A baby would never be this still, especially in the midst of all this chaos. He’d spent enough time around children to know how restless they were—crying, squirming, demanding attention at every turn. This... whatever it was, didn’t seem like that at all.

Even the calmer ones still had their moments...He shook his head as memories threatened to surface.

He thought back to their first meeting. Zara wasn’t showing any obvious signs of pregnancy. She didn’t have any of the cravings or symptoms that women typically did. The lack of swelling and the absence of any physical changes didn’t add up.

His thoughts flickered to the other possibility. Pregnancy, sure, but whose child? What about the father? Winter had never bothered to ask. It wasn’t his place. Whatever her past was, it had no bearing on their current situation. He’d helped her get this far, which would be its end. They had no future together—he’d leave her to her fate once he’d seen to his own needs. After all, survival came first.

Back to the Present

He glanced over his shoulder once again, the nagging feeling of uncertainty gnawing at him. Zara was a few steps behind, as usual, but something in her posture caught his attention. She wasn’t just limping anymore—she was stumbling, trying to keep her balance, her hand pressed against the side of her coat as though she feared it might slip away. The sight tugged at his insides, but he buried the feeling. They weren’t friends. They were survivors. And in this world, trust was a luxury neither of them could afford.

"You’re falling behind again," Winter called over his shoulder, his voice cold and measured. "You alright?"

Zara flinched at his words, the briefest of winces flashing across her face. She met his gaze for a second before quickly looking away, her breath coming out in little puffs as she pulled her coat tighter around her. "Yeah, I’m fine," she said, though the words were strained, almost too quick.

Winter didn’t believe her, but he kept his thoughts to himself for the moment. Instead, he observed her carefully, noting her uneven gait, how she clenched her jaw, and how she kept adjusting the coat.

"Wasn’t the leg getting better?" he asked, his voice low but sharp.

Zara met his gaze briefly, then quickly looked away. "I’m fine," she replied, her voice tight, defensive.

Winter studied her for a moment, wondering if she even realised how transparent she was being. He slowed his pace slightly, his footsteps crunching in the snow as he waited for her to catch up. His gaze never left her face.

His towering figure seemed even more imposing. "Either we slow down, or I carry you."

"I’m fine." Her voice was firm now, her shoulders straightening as if to push away further his offer. "We’re not stopping."

The stubbornness in her voice caught him off guard. Zara wasn’t the type to fight when it came to practicality. She always knew when to take a rest and when to push forward. The refusal, especially now, felt off. It made Winter wonder again why she was acting this way.

He kept his eyes on her, observing. Why am I still here with her? The thought lingered in his mind. Despite everything, despite how suspicious and guarded she made him feel, he hadn’t left her. He had every reason to do so—she was a liability and a potential threat.

But he hadn’t. Not yet.

Zara’s sudden sharp intake of breath snapped him out of his thoughts.

"Zara?" he asked, his tone demanding her attention.

Her eyes flickered back to his, alarm flashing briefly before she masked it with a forced smile. "It’s nothing."

Winter’s eyes narrowed. He was done with her evasions. "Sit. Now."

Zara’s mouth opened as if to protest, but the icy fury in Winter’s voice silenced her. She hesitated before gingerly sitting down on a large rock, wincing as she let her injured ankle rest on the cold ground.

"I told you to rest," Winter muttered, crouching in front of her. He dug into his pack and pulled out a medical kit. "You’re useless in this world if you can’t move properly!"

Zara didn’t look at him as he inspected her ankle. She focused on the snow, her face drawn.

Winter worked quietly for a moment. The leg was getting better, and the cold from the snow should have acted as a numbing agent. So what exactly was putting extra pressure on it? His gaze flicked up to her coat again. The protective way she held it caught his attention. A rustling sound from beneath it made his eyes narrow, and a new suspicion flickered in his mind.

"You’re really protective of that coat. Sentimental value?" he asked casually, his voice laced with a hint of challenge.

Zara froze for just a second—barely noticeable. But Winter did. She immediately forced a laugh, though it was hollow and tight. "Something like that," she muttered, brushing off the question.

Before he could pursue the issue further, a loud noise echoed in the distance—a booming crash that rattled the air. Winter’s head snapped up, and his senses went on high alert. The snow was so thick that it was hard to see much beyond a few feet, but the sound was unmistakable. Something was moving out there. Something big.

Winter quickly rose to his feet, his hand instinctively going to the machete strapped to his waist. "Stay sharp," he ordered, his voice sharp.

Zara, her movements quick and jerky now, finished wrapping her ankle in silence. She adjusted her coat with panic flashing across her face, glancing behind her nervously. But it wasn’t the time for questions. They had to move, and fast.

The rumbling sound grew louder, and through the mist, Winter saw figures—more than one. A horde of zombies. This one was different, faster, and smarter. They weren’t just random walkers. They were hunters.

Winter’s hand tightened on the hilt of his machete. "We need to move. Now."

He glanced back at Zara, who was still struggling to get her footing. His voice dropped to a deadly murmur, "We can talk about this later."

******

The good thing was that the cold seemed to freeze most of the zombies in place. They continued in silence, with Zara behind him, occasionally sniffling.

The wind bit at their skin, and Winter pulled the collar of his jacket up, his eyes scanning the horizon. There was no sign of danger—yet. But they were heading into a more populated area. They had to be careful now. The closer they got to human settlements, the more risks they faced. Scavengers. Other groups. He’d already told Zara they would need to steal from someone else’s supply soon if they wanted to make it further, but that plan was filled with danger. Whoever controlled that supply would not take kindly to strangers.

"We’ll be nearing the old town soon," Winter muttered, eyes flicking toward Zara. "We need to be extra careful. Keep your head down."

Zara nodded wordlessly, but Winter noticed how her hand tensed around her coat again. His gaze flicked from her leg, still stiff with the injury, to the coat she was so desperately trying to hide. Something inside him twisted with suspicion, but he suppressed it.

"Stay close," he said sharply, his voice low.

Zara didn’t respond immediately, but when she finally spoke, there was a tremor in her voice. "I’ll keep up."

Winter paused, turning his head slightly to observe her. Her eyes were fixed on the ground, her face drawn tight, her hand still clutching the coat as if it was the only thing keeping her grounded. She couldn’t even look at him now.

A cold, biting gust of wind whipped through the narrow gap between two ruined buildings, making the snow seem to come alive. The sound of the wind wailing through the empty streets made everything feel eerily quiet, almost too still. Winter tensed his instincts on high alert.

"We can’t afford to be caught by surprise," Winter murmured, his voice a low growl. "Not with how many zombies are around. You’re better off keeping up with me."

Zara’s gaze flicked up for a moment before she hurriedly lowered it again. "I know," she replied softly, her words barely audible.

It was weird to see her so complacent. ’What was going on in that head of hers?’ He thought as he pushed through the snow.

They continued moving in silence, the snow muffling their footsteps, the world around them dead and still.

As they approached a cluster of abandoned cars, Zara suddenly stopped in her tracks. Her breath hitched, her head snapping toward the wreckage.

"Wait!" she hissed, grabbing Winter’s arm.

Winter instinctively paused, turning his head and scanning the area.

"What? What is it now?" he asked with a frown.

"There’s something ahead," Zara whispered, her voice shaking slightly. She stepped closer to him, her previous bravado slipping away. "We need to stop. Now."

Winter’s hand moved to his rifle, but he didn’t speak, his senses running on high alert. They both stood motionless for a beat and then, in the distance, a low growl filled the air. A familiar sound. Zombies.