Two men alone in the apocalypse, Joel Miller and Steven Richards find each other. As their relationship grows stronger they must fight their way to safety in order to finally find peace with one another in their world of horrors.
The Clicker was within audible range, Steven looked up to see it just beyond the car. An old Subaru, the sound of raindrops hitting the hood echoed out.
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It'd be a somewhat peaceful moment if there wasn't a fungus-covered zombie around.
He had a knife, that's it. Usually, he'd be able to sneak up on the infected but there are so many twigs and leaves that the second he moves that clicker would tear him to shreds.
Steven was born on June 23rd, 2006. Seven years before the initial outbreak, he was born to his mom Rachel, and his father Daniel. He still remembers the day of the outbreak like it was yesterday.
Until he was seventeen Steven lived with his family in Denver. Stuffed away in one of the last standing apartment buildings. Going outside was a luxury, his mom and dad didn't allow it often. So he grew familiar with the run-down unit. Besides a few freak occurrences, they never had a problem with the infected.
The monsters weren't the big concern. The biggest fear was the people. The remnants of humanity that run about killing and assaulting everything in their way.
He and his sister weren't taught any type of defense, they weren't even told how to use a gun. Or anything for that matter, his parents didn't even know how to fight. They were the type to run away from something instead of facing it head-on. It worked. But unfortunately, everything can't be run from.
Despite this, Steven did a lot of defense practice in his spare time. It wasn't so much fighting as it was being as silent as possible. By the age of fourteen, he was practically undetectable, able to sneak around silently even in the quietest of libraries.
He wasn't scared of the infected, of fighting. Nothing like that. He was scared of being alone. The thought of being entirely alone in this world scared him. And no matter how many times his family insisted that they'd always be there. This fear persisted violently.
{ Friday, August 11th, 2023 }
It was hard to sleep with the storms. Thunder and rain screaming outside, Steven sat curled up on the couch. There were two bedrooms in this place, and he and Gwen bickered far too much to share a room peacefully.
So he chose to make the living room his bedroom of sorts. He laid there every night, dreaming about a world better than this. The sound of the front door being slowly opened has stuck with Steven to this day, it'll never leave his head. It's like a rot the way it burrowed deep into his skull.
Their apartment had a hallway that led to the living room and small kitchen, then to the right his parent's room, sister's room, and the bathroom. Thankfully he had enough time to slither behind the couch. He saved himself but his family was in danger. All he could do was helplessly listen.
