Zero Day: Days Left

Chapter 1

ONE YEAR LATER... January 2020

Cliff drove down the endless highway, the world around him a desolate wasteland. Far away from where he started in Syracuse, Kansas- Now somewhere in Wyoming. The remnants of what once was lay scattered on either side of the road—rubble and debris, silent witnesses to the collapse of everything he knew. The highway stretched out ahead, empty except for his battered black pickup, its body scarred by bullet holes and the weight of too many memories. The engine's low growl was the only sound in the void, a reminder that he was still moving, still alive. But Cliff felt dead inside.

He wore an old Dokken shirt, now just a tattered remnant of another life. Holes riddled the fabric, which was crusted with dirt and mud, a testament to the relentless passage of time. Over it, he wore a filthy black hoodie, barely offering protection against the biting cold that seeped through the truck's cracked windows. Beside him, Aubrey sat, her eyes locked on him. She was a portrait of fear and sorrow, her gaze pleading, searching for something in Cliff that he no longer possessed. Behind them, Scott and Javier were lost in a heated argument, their voices grating against the bleak silence.

"Damnit, man. I told you how many fucking times?!" Scott spat, his words sharp with anger.

"Fuck you, man! I did what she wanted!" Javier snapped back.

"I don't care! We don't fucking kill the living!"

"She was bit, Scott. I had to. She wanted me to! Right, Cliff?" Javier's voice was desperate as he looked up into the rearview mirror, searching Cliff's eyes for some semblance of reassurance.

But Cliff's gaze was vacant, his thoughts far from the bickering in the backseat. He was focused solely on the road, the endless stretch of asphalt that seemed to go on forever, leading nowhere. The world had turned into a cruel mockery of what it once was, and Cliff had lost himself in the process. His mind wandered, drifting through memories of what he'd done, the blood he'd spilled, the lives he couldn't save.

Aubrey's hand touched his cheek, a soft, tentative gesture that barely broke through his numbness. "Cliff, it's okay... I love you," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion.

But Cliff's thoughts were bitter, laced with regret and self-loathing. Your love won't save me, he thought. He was trapped in a cycle of anger, not directed at the world or even those around him, but at himself. Every day, he lived with the weight of his failures, the ghosts of those he couldn't protect haunting him.

The argument behind them reached a fever pitch, and before Cliff could even process what was happening, Scott threw a punch at Javier. Cliff's foot slammed down on the brakes, the truck screeching to a halt. Aubrey was thrown forward, but before she could collide with the dashboard, Cliff's arm shot out, stopping her with a protective force that belied his cold demeanor.

He stepped out of the truck, his movements calm yet seething with a suppressed rage. The icy wind bit at his face as he yanked Scott out of the truck, dragging him into the snow-covered road.

"Get the fuck off me!" Scott struggled, his voice frantic.

"Cliff, man! Relax!" Javier called out, scrambling to intervene.

Aubrey stayed in the truck, her eyes wide with fear, her heart pounding in her chest. She watched as Cliff pinned Scott to the ground, his hand gripping the back of Scott's hoodie, pressing him into the snow.

"You don't get to decide what happens in my fucking group," Cliff growled, his voice low and menacing.

Scott's eyes were wild with anger and disbelief. "You call this a group? What the fuck is wrong with you people? Robbing people, beating up that old guy, killing that woman!"