Barely Alive

October

Sesa’s eyes blinked open, his vision blurry and unfocused. The first thing he noticed was the suffocating stillness. His car was tilted awkwardly, its front smashed against a large tree trunk. Shattered glass from the windshield lay scattered across the dashboard, glinting in the dim light filtering through the canopy of trees. The air smelled of damp earth mixed with the metallic tang of blood. His seatbelt hung loosely, frayed and torn from the impact, and the hood of the car was crumpled like paper, steam hissing from beneath it.

He groaned, trying to piece together what had happened. The last thing he remembered was driving down the highway with the excitement of Halloween night filling the car. Then, there was a blur—a flash of movement from the woods, something slamming into the side of the car. The sound of metal screeching and the jolt of the crash echoed in his mind. After that, nothing.

“What… uhh—what the hell happened?” he muttered, his voice hoarse, as his gaze shifted to his sister.

A faint groan beside him snapped him out of his daze. Turning his head, he froze. His sister, Nora, was slumped in the passenger seat, clutching her stomach. Blood seeped through her fingers, pooling on the torn fabric of her shirt. Her face was pale, beads of sweat forming on her brow as she struggled to take shallow breaths.

“Nora!” Sesa gasped, grabbing for her. His heart pounded when he saw the deep wound across her stomach.

Her hand shot up, covering his mouth. Her wide, glassy eyes locked onto his, and she shook her head weakly.

“Don’t… don’t yell,” she whispered, barely audible. “They’ll hear us.”

“Who? What are you talking about?” Sesa’s voice cracked as he spoke. His eyes darted around the shattered car, searching for answers. In the dimming light of the evening, the world outside seemed eerily still.

Then he saw them.

Figures moved in the shadows, shambling and erratic. Their silhouettes were twisted, unnatural. One stumbled closer, its disjointed gait revealing something that used to be human but was now… something else entirely. Sesa’s breath caught in his throat as he watched the creature’s head snap toward a distant sound. A low growl rumbled from its chest before it lopped off in the opposite direction.

“What… what is that?” he whispered, his voice trembling.

“I don’t know,” Nora rasped, her grip on her stomach faltering. “But they’re everywhere. And they… they’re drawn to noise.”

Sesa stared at her, his mind reeling. He couldn’t remember how they’d gotten here or what had caused this nightmare. His last clear memory was driving toward a Halloween party with Nora. Then… the crash. Flashes of chaos flickered in his mind: screams, sirens, fire. And now this.

“We have to get out of here,” he said, his voice firm despite the terror threatening to consume him.

Nora nodded weakly, her lips trembling. “I can’t… I can’t walk,” she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Sesa swallowed hard, his throat dry. He couldn’t leave her here. He wouldn’t. Without another word, he climbed out of the car, the sharp chill of the October air biting at his skin. Every movement sent pain shooting through his body, but he ignored it. He opened the passenger door and carefully lifted Nora into his arms. She let out a soft whimper, her head lolling against his shoulder.

“Hang on, Nora. I’ve got you,” he whispered, his voice breaking.

The world around them was a landscape of destruction. Buildings in the distance were merged in flames, sending plumes of smoke into the darkening sky. The grocery store nearby stood partially intact, though one side of it was charred and smoldering. Sesa focused on that store. It was their only hope.

He staggered toward it, every step a struggle. Nora's weight was light in his arms, but the fear and desperation weighing on him felt unbearable. Her breathing grew shallower with each passing moment, and her skin was clammy against his.

“Just a little further,” he murmured, as much to himself as to her.

Reaching the store, Sesa set Nora down gently against the wall near the entrance. She whimpered, her eyes fluttering open briefly.

“Stay with me, Nora. Please,” he pleaded, brushing her damp hair from her face.

Her head falling back against the wall. Sesa’s heart clenched as he turned his attention to the shattered glass doors of the store. Inside, shelves were overturned, and rubble littered the floor. He couldn’t see any movement, but he knew he had to be cautious.

Grabbing a metal rod from the ground, he took a deep breath and stepped inside. The air reeked of smoke and decay. Broken bottles and smashed boxes crunched under his feet as he navigated the aisles, searching desperately for anything that could help. Bandages, antiseptic, anything to stop the bleeding.

A faint growl stopped him in his tracks. He froze, his grip tightening on the rod. Peering around the corner, he saw one of the creatures hunched over, it's back to him. It tore into something—or someone—with feral intensity, the wet sounds of flesh and bone making his stomach churn.

Sesa held his breath, inching backward. The creature’s head snapped up, its ears twitching. He stifled a gasp as it turned toward him, its milky eyes locking onto his. For a moment, neither moved.

Then it lunged.

Sesa swung the rod instinctively, connecting with the creature’s head. It stumbled but didn’t fall, snarling as it regained its footing. He swung again, this time with all his strength it got the creature’s skull bone torn, he was quite sure, and the creature collapsed in a heap. His hands shook as he stared at its lifeless form, bile rising in his throat.

“Focus,” he muttered, forcing himself to move. He found a first aid kit among the wreckage and grabbed it, along with a bottle of water and a few energy bars. It wasn’t much, but it was all he could carry.

He rushed back to Nora, who was barely conscious. Her lips were pale, and her breathing was shallow.

“I got it,” he said, dropping to his knees beside her. He tore open the first aid kit and began working to clean and dress her wound as best as he could. Nora winced, tears streaming down her face, but she didn’t make a sound.

“You’re going to be okay,” Sesa said, though the words felt hollow. He could see the fear in her eyes, and he knew she could see it in his.

As the sky darkened and the distant sounds of chaos grew louder, Sesa looked up at the stars beginning to peek through the smoke-filled sky. 

Nora's breathing grew more labored with each passing second, her pale hands clutching the blood-soaked wound on her abdomen. Sesa tore through the first aid kit again, his trembling fingers fumbling with the gauze. No matter how much he pressed, the blood wouldn’t stop. His heart raced as her hands grew colder in his grasp, and his mind filled with panic.

“Stay with me, Nora,” he whispered, his voice cracking. Tears welled up in his eyes, blurring his vision. He blinked them away, focusing on her face. Her lips were almost as pale as her skin, and her eyes fluttered weakly. “I’m going to fix this. I’ll figure it out, I promise.”

Nora’s gaze met his, her expression soft despite the pain etched into her features. “It’s okay, Sesa. You’re trying,” she murmured, her voice barely audible.

He tightened his grip on her hands, his knuckles white. “No, don’t say that. Don’t give up.” He sniffled, his voice trembling. “Do you remember school bootcamp? That school trip we had where everything went so exhausting?”

She blinked slowly, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “You mean the one where everyone got soaked?”

“Yeah,” Sesa said, his voice gaining a desperate edge. “Yeah,” Sesa said, his voice gaining a desperate edge. “Remember the sports day competition? That ridiculous water bottle relay? Everyone was supposed to pass the bottles carefully, but instead, it turned into a splash fest. Everyone was drenched, including our academics team. We throw a full bucket of water at them!”

A weak chuckle escaped Nora’s lips, but it quickly turned into a grimace. She winced, her body trembling as she fought against the pain. Sesa’s heart ached as he watched her struggle, her laughter cut short.

“Keep your eyes on me, okay?” Sesa said, his voice breaking. “Don’t look away. Just… focus on my voice. I’ll keep talking. I’ll tell you every stupid story I can think of.”

“I’m so tired,” she whispered, her eyes drifting shut for a moment before snapping open again. “Sesa… you need to find a way to call someone. Emergency… we need help.”

His throat tightened as he shook his head. “I can’t. My phone… it’s gone, and we’re too far from anything.”

“Then… find someone,” Nora said, her voice faltering. “You… you can’t stay here forever.”

“No, Nora. Don’t sleep yet, fuck.” Sesa pleaded, his hands trembling as he cupped her face. “I still have so many stories to tell you. You can’t leave me. Please.”

“It’s okay,” she whispered, her voice barely audible now. “Just a little bit. Let me rest…”

Her head tilted slightly, falling against his shoulder. Sesa froze, his breath catching in his throat. He listened, hoping, praying for the sound of her breathing. But there was nothing. No rise and fall of her chest, no soft exhale against his skin.

“No…” he choked, tears streaming down his face as he bit his lip to keep from crying out. His entire body shook with silent sobs as he cradled her lifeless form, his mind reeling with the weight of the moment.

Through the tears clouding his vision, he saw movement outside the shattered glass doors of the store. Shadows shuffled past, their unnatural forms silhouetted against the faint glow of fires in the distance. Sesa clenched his jaw, holding Nora close as he sat frozen in the eerie silence, his grief mingling with the ever-present fear of what lurked beyond.

November

A month had passed, though time felt meaningless. Sesa had stayed in the grocery store, scavenging whatever was left on the shelves. He rationed the food carefully, counting every can, every stale loaf of bread. The utilities still worked—barely—but the water pressure had started to weaken, and the power flickered more often than not. He spent his days pacing the aisles, clicking his nails against the plastic of a broken walkie-talkie, trying to piece together a way to communicate with the outside world. If there was an outside world.

Every so often, he would glance out the cracked window at the spot where Nora rested, the sight of a constant weight in his chest. He didn’t let himself linger on it, didn’t let the grief consume him. Survival was all that mattered now.

The sun bore down relentlessly, the November heat more oppressive than any autumn he’d ever known. The air felt thick, suffocating. Supplies were running low, and the creatures—the zombies, or whatever they were—still prowled outside. He’d seen enough movies to know what they were, but that didn’t make the reality any easier to face.

His stomach twisted with hunger, the meager breakfast he’d allowed himself already a distant memory. As he stood in the canned goods aisle, debating whether to open one of his last few tins, a sudden noise jolted him from his thoughts.

Footsteps. Fast, frantic. His heart leapt into his throat as he darted to the window. Outside, three figures were running toward the store. The first was a very tall boy, carrying a smaller child on his back. Behind them was another boy wielding an axe and lugging a hiking backpack.

Sesa’s chest tightened as they reached the door, both of them shouting to Sesa through the glass, begging him to open the door. One of them banged on the door with the butt of the axe, his voice muffled but urgent. The child clung to the boy’s back, motionless.

Sesa froze, his hands trembling. He took a step back, his gaze flicking to the door latch.

“They could be bitten,” he whispered to himself, his voice barely audible. “Scratched.” His nails dug into his palms as he stood rooted in place, his mind racing. The banging grew louder, more desperate.

He didn’t move.