CHAPTER 36: 36: THE WORLD WAS A LITTLE LONELY

The night was unreasonably quiet, save for the crackling of the campfire. Its orange glow licked at the surrounding darkness, casting long, flickering shadows over the barren, snow-covered landscape. Zara sat close to the flames, arms wrapped around Leo, rocking him unconsciously as she stared at Winter.

He was sprawled out on the other side of the fire, his rifle resting beside him, his dark hair messy against the bundled-up jacket he used as a makeshift pillow. His chest rose and fell with a steady rhythm.

Her eyes flickered down to the sleeping form beneath her coat. Leo stirred slightly, his small hand clutching the fabric as if sensing her distress even in sleep. Her heart ached.

The firelight wavered, and her vision abruptly shifted.

A vivid image slashed across her mind: Winter’s rifle raised, his icy blue eyes locked onto her as his finger curled around the trigger. The roar of the shot shattered the silence, and she stumbled back, her chest searing with pain.

Zara gasped, jerking upright as reality snapped back into place. Her breath came in shallow bursts, the cold air biting at her lungs. She pressed a hand to her chest, half-expecting to find blood, but her fingers met only the worn fabric of her coat.

Get it together, she scolded herself, shaking her head. He hasn’t hurt you. He wouldn’t... right?

With trembling hands, Zara dug through her pack and retrieved a worn pen and a crumpled scrap of paper. She hesitated, glancing at Winter again.

Winter,

Thank you for everything. But we can’t stay. This is better for both of us. Stay safe.

—Zara

She folded the note carefully, placing it atop his pack. Her fingers lingered for a moment before she pulled back, swallowing hard.

Quietly, Zara stood, shifting Leo against her chest. He sighed softly, nestling closer, but didn’t wake. She adjusted her coat to shield him from the biting cold and glanced back one last time.

As the sun began to rise, with Leo bundled tightly against her chest, Zara slipped into the shadows of the city. The snow muffled her footsteps, and her breath came in shallow puffs as she pressed onward, leaving the camp—and Winter—behind.

******

The morning air was sharp, and Winter woke with a start, his instincts snapping him to alertness before his mind could catch up. He sat up quickly, his hand reaching for his rifle, eyes scanning the camp. His instincts flared as he noticed a few things. One, the camp was eerily quiet. His sharp gaze swept the clearing, and his chest tightened.

Two, She was gone.

"Zara?" he called out, his voice rough from sleep. No answer.

His brow furrowed as he stood, looking around the camp.

Winter’s jaw clenched as he scanned the area again as if she might materialize from the concrete. But all that remained was the faint imprint of her boots leading away from the fire’s dying embers.

She hadn’t been gone too long.

His eyes landed on his pack. The folded note stood out starkly against the dull fabric. He snatched it up, his eyes scanning the hastily written words.

The words stared back at him, simple yet infuriatingly vague.

"Damn it, Zara," he muttered, crumpling the note in his fist. His jaw tightened as he paced the edge of the camp, the cold biting at his exposed skin. He couldn’t understand it. Why would she leave? She’d been so quiet last night, but nothing suggested she was planning to bolt.

His frustration churned like a storm. She hadn’t taken anything from him—not even supplies she would desperately need. It didn’t make sense. Why leave when she was in no condition to go off on her own? His mind briefly lingered on the bulge she always hid beneath her coat. He’d assumed it was her pregnancy, though now he wasn’t so sure.

Winter’s hand flexed around the note before he shoved it into his pocket.

His gaze flicked to the fire, now reduced to embers, and then to the snow, where her footprints slowly disappeared. He cursed under his breath, running a hand through his hair.

"So much for keeping watch," he muttered, dusting the snow off his body.

Something tugged at him—a feeling he couldn’t quite name. He’d only known her for a short time, but she’d gotten under his skin in ways he didn’t expect.

Winter shook his head, forcing himself to refocus. "She made her choice," he muttered. "I’ve got my own mission to deal with."

He had been initially sidetracked from his run—he had a supply cache to find and a squad to meet in City H. Zara had made her choice.

With a resigned sigh, he packed up the camp, his movements sharp and jerky.

Adjusting his rifle on his shoulder, Winter took a final look around the clearing, half-hoping to see her small figure reappear. But the clearing remained empty, the silence pressing in on him. When nothing moved, he let out a long breath, the mist swirling in the cold air.

"If we meet again..." he muttered, leaving the thought unfinished. With that, he turned and headed toward the supply cache, the crunch of his boots fading into the snow-covered wilderness.

*****

The days blurred together in a haze of white snow and biting wind. Zara trudged forward, her boots crunching against the frost-covered ground as she tightly held Leo’s tiny hand.

The weather had turned harsher since they’d left the base, since they’d left winter. But the clothes she’d taken during their hurried escape had proved invaluable. Her thick, fur-lined coat fit snugly, the hood drawn up to protect her face from the relentless gusts. Leo was bundled in layers, his small frame wrapped in a woollen sweater beneath a padded jacket. It had been a stroke of luck that what she had taken for him in haste actually fit him.

The little boy toddled beside her, his tiny hand clasped in hers. Buried in soft mittens, he gripped hers as they pushed onward. He stumbled occasionally, his boots catching on uneven patches of snow, but he never complained.

His resilience astounded her.

In quiet moments, Zara couldn’t help but think of Winter. She had wondered what he had thought when he found her note, what he had felt. She hadn’t been able to leave without telling him something, and the note had been her only way of trying to explain. Had he understood? Would he have tried to stop her if he’d had the chance?

She pushed the thought away quickly, but it wasn’t like it really mattered to her.

"Look, Mama!" Leo exclaimed, his bright voice cutting through the silence, pointing to a cluster of icicles hanging from a rusted streetlight. Long abandoned and frozen under the weight of snow, the light was now tilted down towards the street.

Zara managed a tired smile. "Those are pretty, aren’t they?" she said, crouching down to his level. "Want to touch one?"

Leo nodded eagerly, his dark eyes wide with curiosity. She took his hand in hers and guided it toward the nearest icicle. His mittened fingers brushed the cold surface, and he gasped, yanking his hand back with a giggle.

"It’s cold!" he exclaimed, his laughter ringing out like a bell in the stillness.

A smile tugged at Zara’s lips, warming her in a way the layers of clothing never could. "That’s ice for you," she said, ruffling his hood-covered hair.

Straightening, she adjusted her grip on his hand and glanced at their surroundings. The desolate street stretched endlessly in both directions, lined with abandoned cars buried under mounds of snow. Where would they find shelter? Was she going in the right direction?

"Mama, are we gonna find a house soon?" Leo’s small voice broke the silence, muffled by the scarf wrapped around his face. He tugged on her hand, and she looked down to find him staring at her with wide eyes. "Are we there yet?"

She crouched down to his level, fighting back the lump in her throat. "Not yet, sweetie," she said softly, brushing a snowflake off his nose. Her heart ached at the sight of his red cheeks and wide, curious eyes. "But we’ll find somewhere warm soon, I promise."

Leo nodded solemnly, his little legs working hard to keep up with her pace. She wanted to keep carrying him, but he insisted on walking himself, like the big boy he was.

She couldn’t say no to him. Of course, she carried him over thicker snow and when things looked a little tight.

The sky was a leaden grey when Zara spotted the fresh tracks in the snow. Her pulse quickened as she knelt, her gloved fingers brushing against the impressions. She wasn’t a tracker, but her eyes were working well. The tracks were too small to be human yet not distinct enough to be human, either. They looked like something had been dragged across the snow.

Zombies, she thought, dread filling her as she looked around. The creatures could have been anywhere. Her grip tightened on the block of wood she had snagged as a weapon.

They needed to get out of the open.

They’d found temporary shelter in the hollowed-out shell of a long-abandoned car. They were in a more open area with fewer buildings for hiding spots. Zara packed snow against the base of the vehicle, hoping to block some of the wind that seeped through every crevice.

Inside, Leo sat cross-legged on the backseat, his mittened hands busy with a small game they’d invented—drawing shapes in the frost on the windows. It was a way to keep his mind sharp and still entertain his imagination while keeping him quiet.

"What’s that one?" Zara asked, pausing her work to lean in and squint at his latest creation.

"It’s you!" he said proudly, pointing at the stick figure.

"Wow, you made me look tall," Zara teased, earning a giggle from him.

"You are tall," he insisted, drawing another figure beside it. "And this is me!"

She reached in and poked his nose through his scarf. "And very handsome, too."

Zara shook off the warmth of the moment and focused back on packing the snow. The cold was worsening; their journey had to quicken.

******

One evening, Leo’s eyes suddenly brightened as the cold set in deeper. "Mama, look!" he said, pointing to a cluster of frost-covered bushes. "Snow berries?"

She knelt beside him, brushing snow off the small, shrivelled fruits. "No, sweetheart. Those aren’t safe to eat."

Anything still growing out of the ground was suspicious in this period. They couldn’t take the risk. "Come on, baby, let’s go. It’s getting dark."

Leo pouted but quickly brightened as he kicked at the snow, sending a flurry into the air. "Can we build a snowman?"

Zara hesitated, glancing around the open plains. They needed to keep moving, but the look on his face made her pause. "Alright, but just for a little while."

They rolled up snow, creating the base of the snowman, Leo’s small hands eager to help. Zara found herself smiling despite the tension pressing on her shoulders. Leo was so excited that he ended up falling into a deep pile of snow, his small frame nearly disappearing beneath the powder. Zara’s heart lurched, and she quickly dug him out, barely able to relax as he shook the snow off his head.

’This child...’ she thought, exasperated.

Leo giggled as he tried to balance a lopsided head onto the body. Zara found herself laughing, too, the sound strange and foreign after days of tension.

"Here, give him arms," she said, handing Leo a pair of sticks.

The boy’s face lit up as he planted the sticks on either side of the snowman. "He needs a hat!" he declared, looking around.

Zara reached into her coat and pulled out a scrap of cloth. She tied it around the snowman’s head like a makeshift scarf.

"There," she said, standing back to admire their work. "What do you think?"

Leo grinned. "He’s pretty."

The nights were the hardest. Zara lay awake as the wind howled outside their makeshift shelters, her mind racing with worries. Her heart pounded every time she heard a noise—branches snapping, the distant cry of an animal, or worse, the faint shuffle of human footsteps.

Her hand tightened around the block of wood at her side as she listened to the wind’s wail outside. She hadn’t let herself fall asleep for long stretches. It wasn’t safe.

*****

On the eighth night, the signs were undeniable. Fresh footprints in the snow, the faint curl of smoke rising in the distance. She froze, heart slamming against her chest. Her throat tightened, and the need to move fast surged through her. They weren’t alone.

"We have to go," she whispered, shaking Leo awake.

"Why?" he murmured sleepily, rubbing his eyes.

"No time to explain," Zara said, her voice trembling. She bundled him up quickly, her hands shaking as she strapped him securely to her chest. "Just hold on tight, okay?"

Leo nodded, sensing the urgency in her voice. Zara stepped out into the cold, her breath visible in the moonlight.

We can’t be found. Not now. Not ever.