CHAPTER 302: APOCALYPSE ROMANCE 12

They reached the end of the lane and stopped to rest against a cracked wall.

The city around them was unrecognizable—skyscrapers bent like candles, streets glowing from underground fires, the air thick with ash.

Somewhere, alarms still tried to scream, but even they were dying out, drowned by the moans of collapsing metal.

Sasha looked at Alvaro. His breathing was rough, each inhale sounding like it hurt. She tore a piece of her sleeve and pressed it against his wound.

"Hold this," she said. "If we can reach my car, I can patch you up better."

He gave a weak smirk. "You talk like I’m not dying."

"Because you’re not," she said sharply. "Not today."

He chuckled once, then grimaced in pain. "You’re bossy even during the apocalypse."

"And you’re annoying," she shot back, "but I guess we’re stuck with each other."

A low rumble rolled across the ground. The street trembled. Somewhere close, something huge was moving. A shadow passed over them—massive, silent, patient.

Sasha looked up at the sky, teeth clenched. "Let’s move," she said, gripping her gun tighter. "Before the world throws something else at us."

They limped forward again, two survivors walking through the remains of a world that used to be theirs.

For now, there was no plan. No safety. Just motion.

Because stopping meant dying—and Sasha refused to die before she found her armored car.

The sound of the city dying was constant—a low roar of collapsing buildings, car alarms, and distant screams that blended into one long note of destruction.

Every few seconds, something exploded. Sometimes it was gas lines, sometimes monsters. Either way, the result was the same: chaos.

Sasha led Alvaro through a maze of narrow streets. Her boots splashed through puddles of water mixed with oil and blood.

The air was so thick with smoke it burned her lungs every time she inhaled. She didn’t bother wiping the sweat and grime from her face anymore—there was no point.

"Keep your eyes open," she muttered. "We’re close."

Alvaro gave a humorless laugh. "You’ve been saying that for ten minutes."

"Would you rather I stop talking?" she shot back.

"Actually, yes. It helps me forget I’m bleeding out."

She almost smiled but didn’t. "Tough luck. You’re not dying on me. Not until we reach my car."

They turned a corner, and the street opened into what used to be a small parking lot. The lot was half gone now—half swallowed by a giant sinkhole, half covered by the wreckage of a fallen building.

But there, under a half-collapsed billboard, was the familiar shape of her armored vehicle.

Scorched, dented, but intact. Its black plating gleamed faintly through the dust like a stubborn survivor.

Sasha exhaled shakily. "There you are," she whispered.

They hurried—well, as much as two half-broken people could hurry. Each step was a negotiation between pain and adrenaline.

Alvaro stumbled twice but kept going, his hand gripping her shoulder tightly. When they finally reached the car, Sasha yanked the door. Locked. Of course.

She reached into her jacket and pulled out a small keycard, the edges scratched and smudged. She tapped it against the reader.

For a moment, nothing happened—then a soft click. The doors unlocked with a sigh.

They climbed inside. The air inside the vehicle was stale but safe. Sasha slammed the door shut and locked it again.

The silence that followed was almost unbearable. For the first time since the explosion, the world felt far away.

Sasha collapsed into the driver’s seat, shaking all over. Alvaro sank into the passenger seat, leaning his head back, eyes half-closed.

"Seatbelts," Sasha said automatically, then laughed weakly. "God, listen to me. As if that still matters."

She opened the glove compartment, pulling out a small medkit—one of her many "just in case" items. Her hands worked fast, cleaning Alvaro’s wound with alcohol wipes and wrapping it tight with gauze.

He hissed through his teeth. "You always this gentle?"

"Complain again and I’ll use duct tape instead."

His lips curved slightly. "There’s the Sasha I know."

"Don’t flatter me," she muttered. "I’m trying to stop you from dying, not win a personality contest."

But despite her words, there was something fragile in the air between them—something that made her chest tighten.

Maybe it was because he was alive, and in this world, that was rare enough to feel like a miracle.

Alvaro opened one eye, watching her carefully. "You’re shaking," he said quietly.

"I’m fine," she lied.

He reached out with his uninjured hand, placing it gently over hers. "No, you’re not."

For a moment, the world went still. Outside, the apocalypse raged on—but inside that car, it felt like they were suspended in time.

Her fingers trembled under his touch, not from fear, but from the sudden rush of something she didn’t have time to name.

Then the armored car shook violently. A thunderous bang echoed from above. Dust fell from the roof like rain. The windshield spiderwebbed with cracks.

Sasha’s heart slammed against her ribs. "Shit! Hold on!"

Something enormous landed on the roof—something with claws.

Alvaro reached for his gun. Sasha shoved the car into gear. The engine roared to life, loud and angry.

She slammed the accelerator, and the vehicle shot forward, throwing both of them against their seats. The creature screeched, claws scraping against the metal roof like nails on steel.

"Is it on top of us?!" Alvaro shouted.

"You think?!"

The car smashed through debris, skidding past broken concrete slabs. The thing on top howled again—a guttural, alien sound that made Sasha’s skin crawl.

It punched a hole through the roof, an insect leg stabbing down inches from her head.

"Get it off!" she yelled.

Alvaro aimed through the hole and fired. The bullet hit something soft, followed by an explosion of dark, sticky blood that splattered across the dashboard.

The creature screeched again, louder, and then the weight on the roof shifted.

Sasha took a sharp turn, clipping the edge of a fallen lamppost. The sudden jolt threw the creature off balance. It rolled across the hood and crashed into the street with a wet thud.

Sasha didn’t wait to confirm the kill. She floored the gas pedal.

They sped through the ruined streets, the tires crushing glass and bones alike. Firelight flickered across their faces, painting them in red and orange. Outside, the city burned like an open wound.

"Tell me," Alvaro said between ragged breaths, "how did you know? About all this. The monsters. The cracks. The—everything."

Sasha didn’t answer at first. Her eyes were locked on the road, but her thoughts were miles away.