CHAPTER 315: APOCALYPTIC ROMANCE 25

"You smiled," Sasha said, staring. "You’re very handsome when you don’t look like you’re plotting someone’s execution."

Cloud instantly stiffened, expression snapping back to stern military face.

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Do you say things like that to every man you meet?"

She grinned mischievously. "Only the handsome ones."

"That," he said sharply, "is a highly dangerous habit. Especially in a place like the Bastion."

"Yes, Commander," she teases. "No flirting. Strictly survival."

Cloud eyed the ring. "You have guns in there as well?"

"Oh — tons," Sasha replied happily. She pulled out a rifle and a neat box of bullets, handing them to him. "Want one?"

Cloud looked between the gear and her face, as if weighing the moral implications.

"You’re just giving this to me?"

"Of course. A weapon only matters in the right hands," Sasha said. "And yours are definitely the right hands."

Cloud squinted, voice dangerously low. "Aren’t you afraid I’d use this power against you? ...Leverage you for more supplies?"

Sasha giggled a little. "Your conscience and your pride wouldn’t allow it."

Cloud was silent — because she was right.

Damn her.

"Thank you," he finally said. "For the gun... and the sandwich."

"You’re welcome," she replied with a soft smile — one Cloud refused to admit he found... charming.

Outside, the familiar groans of undead echoed.

Inside, the air between them grew heavy... but not with fear.

They were trapped in the apocalypse —

together.

And the night was just beginning.

====

Back in the Bastion.

Chaos greeted their return.

Soldiers yelled at each other, slamming the armored van’s doors shut as if to keep the truth from spilling out — they’d left Sasha and the Commander behind. Alive? Dead? No one knew.

Except Alvaro — who refused to believe either could die so easily.

He stormed toward the gate, rage pulsing in his veins.

"I’m going back for her! Move!"

Four militia members pinned him back, struggling with his sheer ferocity.

"Stand down!" one barked.

"You’ll die out there!" another warned.

Alvaro didn’t care. He would’ve torn down the entire Bastion with his bare hands if it meant reaching Sasha.

Finally, Grey grabbed him by the shoulders, voice strained.

"We’re not abandoning them. We’ll go back tomorrow, understand?"

That sentence was the only thread holding Alvaro together.

Once things settled, Alvaro slipped away.

He needed to breathe. He needed to think.

He needed Sasha.

He sprinted to the barracks, ignoring the whispers of pity and doom.

Inside the cramped restroom, he locked the stall door, pulled out the small radio Sasha had slipped into his pocket earlier — disguised with chocolates like a secret gift — and prayed it worked.

His fingers shook as he pressed the button.

"Sasha? Sasha, can you hear me?"

Static crackled.

Then—

"I’m here."

Alvaro sagged against the wall, relief crashing into him so hard his knees nearly gave out.

"You okay?" he breathed.

"We’re fine," Sasha answered calmly. "Cloud’s here too."

Alvaro’s relief evaporated.

Cloud.

With her.

All. Night.

Great.

Perfect.

Just what his sanity needed.

He forced a stiff swallow. "Good. Someone has to protect you."

Sasha chuckled softly. "You worrying again?"

"You have no idea," he muttered, voice dripping jealousy.

They talked longer than they should have — until footsteps outside forced Alvaro to cut the connection.

He begrudgingly left the bathroom, muttering curses at the thought of Cloud getting all the alone-time with her.

He spent the night tossing and turning — picturing Cloud and Sasha sitting close, whispering by candlelight, Cloud offering her his jacket, Sasha smiling back—

"Ugh!!!" He punched his pillow. "No romance! Survival only!"

But sleep refused to come.

At first light, he rushed to Grey’s quarters.

"When are we going?" Alvaro demanded.

Grey’s expression was bleak. "We’re not."

"What do you mean we’re not?"

"Governor Gan refused. He said sending more men is a risk we can’t afford." He hesitated before adding quietly, "He thinks Cloud... and the girl... are dead."

Dead.

That word ignited something dark inside Alvaro.

"That’s bullshit," he hissed.

"You saw the explosion, Alvaro! The Commander probably sacrificed himself to get us out alive. We have to accept that."

Alvaro clenched his fists so tight his nails broke skin. He swallowed every violent impulse trying to claw out of him — because punching Grey wouldn’t fix anything.

He stormed back to the barracks.

If the Bastion wouldn’t save them...

He would. Alone.

He just needed the right moment.

Then, he overheard voices — soldiers whispering near the bunks.

"I heard the Commander is dead."

"No way. Not Commander Cloud."

"The Governor won’t allow a rescue. Says it’s pointless."

"He’s always wanted Cloud gone. Now he gets to rule freely."

"If Cloud’s really dead... we’re screwed. Gan will gorge himself till we starve."

Alvaro listened silently, jaw locked so tight his teeth ached.

Governor Gan didn’t care about Sasha, the Commander, or the people.

He cared about power. And that made him far more dangerous than any undead.

Alvaro walked away quietly — a plan forming in his mind.

Sasha, hang on.

I’m coming for you.

Even if I have to tear down this entire Bastion to reach you.

====

Morning brought little comfort — only heat, silence, and the unsettling reality that they were still very much alone.

Sasha and Cloud maneuvered quietly through the ruins, moving like shadows between rusted cars and crumbling walls. The undead were sluggish now — stiff under the sun’s blaze — but one wrong sound could still trigger a swarm.

They finally settled behind a dilapidated sedan, covered in dirt and dried claw marks.

Cloud glanced at his watch for the hundredth time.

"They should’ve been here hours ago," he muttered, jaw clenched so tight it could snap.

Sasha peeked through a shattered window. "Maybe... they’re not coming?"

"No." Cloud’s response was immediate — almost stubborn. "My men would never abandon us."

He paused. "...Not unless they were ordered to."

Sasha opened her mouth to respond, but then—

Click.

Her radio crackled to life.

"Sasha?"

Sasha’s heart skipped. "Alvaro? Oh, thank god. Are you okay?"

"I should be the one asking you," he sighed, voice tight with fatigue and jealousy.

Cloud leaned closer, ears sharp.

"Alvaro," Sasha whispered, "why aren’t the rescue teams here? Aren’t they coming?"

A heavy silence — too long. Too telling.

When Alvaro finally spoke, his voice was edged with anger.

"The Governor won’t allow it. He said sending more men is too risky... and that you and Cloud are probably dead already."