The Apocalypse

17

"Come on, we have to get down. If there's one walker, there are bound to be more!" Sophie urgently exclaimed, her voice laced with a sense of urgency. She wasted no time, already making her way back to the stairs. Maeve and Maurits followed suit, their hearts pounding in their chests, fully aware of the imminent danger.
With a swift pace, they sprinted down the stairs, their footsteps echoing through the building. The urgency of their movements drew the attention of Derek and Dylan, who quickly assessed the situation. Concern etched on their faces, they joined the others in their hasty descent.
Maurits, sensing the tension in the air, acknowledged the gravity of the situation. "We have to go. One walker means there could be more," he affirmed, his voice steady but tinged with a hint of apprehension. His words reminded the group of the constant peril they faced in this unforgiving world.
Just as the weight of the situation settled upon them, Dylan's urgent voice pierced the air, "A herd is coming!" The news sent shivers down their spines, the imminent threat of a large group of walkers heightening their adrenaline-fueled instincts.
Without a moment to lose, the group quickly exited the room, their eyes scanning the surroundings for any signs of approaching danger. The urgency propelled them forward as they ran back towards their vehicle, their minds focused on the escape that awaited them. They saw the herd coming from the east they had one way to escape the car.
"Run!" Maurits called grabbing Maeve her hand.
Their legs pumped with determination as they raced through the dilapidated streets, their breaths heavy and their hearts racing in unison. adrenaline fueled their movements as they navigated through the decaying remnants of civilization, each step bringing them closer to safety.
Finally, they reached the car. Engines roared to life as they peeled away from the impending danger, leaving behind the encroaching threat of the walker herd.
"Is everyone okay?" Dylan asked, glancing back and making eye contact with each person in the car.
"Yes," came the collective response, their voices filled with a mixture of relief and lingering tension.
"We should head to the next town over. There might be more supplies and resources for us there," Maurits suggested, his gaze shifting from the road to Maeve through the rearview mirror. Concern etched his face as he noticed a subtle change in her demeanor—she appeared paler than usual, as if something troubled her.
"What is it, Maeve?" Maurits inquired, his voice filled with genuine concern, recognizing that something had caught her attention.
"Arrow," she whispered, her eyes fixed on the cityscape visible through the back window.
Confusion flickered across the faces of the others, unsure of what she meant. Sensing their bewilderment, Maurits pressed further, "What about the arrow, Maeve?"
Maeve's gaze darted towards Dylan, her eyes gleaming with a mixture of urgency and hope. "My arrow," she repeated, her voice carrying a sense of excitement.
Realization dawned upon Dylan's face as he reached into his pants pocket, retrieving the arrow in question. "Oh yeah, I've got it!" he exclaimed, holding it up for Maeve to see.
Maeve's eyes widened with delight as she caught sight of her arrow. It was more than just a simple projectile to her—it held sentimental value it was her brothers.
A small smile tugged at the corners of Maeve's lips as she reached out, her hand gently taking hold of the arrow. It was a small victory, a reminder that even in the midst of chaos and uncertainty, they could still hold onto moments of triumph and personal significance.
As the car continued down the road, the tension within the vehicle eased slightly. The sight of Maeve's gleaming eyes and the retrieved arrow served as a relief of the tension.
"Do you want me to get you extra arrows?" Maurits asked her with raised brows. Maeve her eyes went to the mirror.
"Yes." She breathed out.
"Alright." He nodded before he stepped on the gas driving to the next town.
-
The night had fallen, casting a tranquil darkness upon the forest, and the weary group had unanimously decided to set up camp amidst the ancient trees. They had scoured through the nearby town, gathering supplies to sustain them through their journey. Maeve, aware of the dangers lurking in the wilderness, chose to remain close to Maurits, finding solace and security in his presence.
As the rest of the group sat awake, their tired bodies finding respite in the makeshift camp, Maeve lay peacefully beside Maurits. Unbeknownst to her, he sat against a sturdy tree, gently running his fingers through her hair, the strands entwining around his fingers like delicate tendrils of affection. The soft glow of the moon illuminated their tranquil surroundings, as if lending its ethereal radiance to their whispered conversations.
Counting their findings, Sophie meticulously listed their acquired provisions. "So, we have twenty packs of tampons and ten cups," she announced, her voice carrying a mix of practicality and relief. Her gaze then fell upon Dylan, who held up seven books with a sense of pride.
"Books?" Derek interjected, arching an eyebrow. "Since when can you read?" he teased, a playful glimmer in his eyes.
Dylan, unfazed by the jest, replied, "Not for me, but for Maeve. I thought she might appreciate something to read." Maurits, wearing a small but grateful smile, silently expressed his gratitude towards Dylan's considerate gesture. With a sense of purpose, Dylan carefully placed the books inside the truck, envisioning Maeve's delight upon discovering them.
Meanwhile, Sophie, ever vigilant, inspected the back of the truck and revealed her discovery. "I found ammunition and two guns," she stated matter-of-factly, her voice carrying a tinge of caution. Maurits acknowledged her words with a nod, his attention, however, unyielding in its focus on Maeve.
In the midst of a brief silence, Sophie's curiosity got the better of her, and she turned her gaze towards Maurits. "Do you love her?" she inquired, her tone gentle yet seeking an honest response.
Maurits, his eyes shimmering with unyielding devotion, looked up at Sophie slowly. "More then life itself." His gaze then shifted back to Maeve, whose stirring form captivated his every thought. Sensing his attention, she blinked her eyes open, her gaze momentarily searching before finding her beloved Maurits.
"What is it, darling?" he asked, his voice filled with tenderness and concern, leaning closer to her.
Maeve, still halfway between sleep and wakefulness, rubbed her eyes and yawned softly before focusing on Maurits. "Just a nightmare," she murmured, her voice a gentle whisper. "I thought I had lost you." No one except Maurits heard her soft whisper. Even to him it was barely audible.
Maurits, cupping her cheek lovingly, reassured her with unwavering devotion. "You will never lose me, my love. I am here, and I will always be here." His words, like a soothing balm, washed away the remnants of her nightmare, replacing them with a profound sense of security and love.
"To puke." Sophie said with a grin at the couple before plopping on her back to get some rest. Dylan had the first watch.