When life throws different people into the middle of an apocalypse and the end of the world approaches, it's a matter of survival for all of them.
This is the story of the survivors, those who have seen their loved ones die to protect them. The one...
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It felt like it had taken me days to get back to Venloria. I'd hoped that no one had noticed we were late, but that hadn't happened. Fred had called us straight into his office. I met his cold, deceitful gaze; he was expecting an explanation. It took him a while to get the words out of Charles' mouth. I realized that he was probably too scared to admit what we had found. I'd always known that man was a coward. He had sided directly with the strongest, for whatever reason. As soon as the apocalypse began, I joined that camp, that Red Army. I'd been told it was the most dangerous. Then I realized what a fraud it was when I was refused entry. I was a sportsman, before all that, and I was convinced that my profile was what they were looking for. So I tried to get in another way. I joined the orange troops and that's when I saw him for the first time.
That young man with the curls. He had immediately become the prodigy of our section. He arrived one morning, surrounded by several soldiers, and when I saw him something in me changed. He was still skinny and dirty. That meant he'd survived the apocalypse to get this far. The virus had only just begun to spread, but there were rumors in the corridors that the government was turning around. Everyone was worried about losing their jobs, and they'd suddenly started hiring dozens of young soldiers. I didn't really understand what they were trying to do. Especially seeing such a weak boy come to us. They had taken part in all our training sessions, for maybe a little over two months. Our beds were right next to each other. He was the first person I saw when I woke up, and the last face engraved on my eyelids before I fell asleep. I'd heard him cry several times. Especially at the beginning. So sometimes, when we couldn't fall asleep, I'd grab his fingers and rub my thumb against his. His presence was reassuring. Like a little brother. That's how I treated him, anyway. We learned together. Our general compared us to brothers, I'd once heard other soldiers bet on the nature of our relationship, while every night I fought against myself not to dream of his green eyes. Then one morning I opened my eyes to find an empty bed with the young boy I'd been staring at the night before. My first instinct was to touch the sheets, to hope that they were still warm and that he'd simply gone to wash. But everything was cold and lifeless. His sweet smell was gone, leaving the smell of the horrible washing powder our camp used. I had lost a part of myself that day.
"Charles, you're going to have to cooperate with me and really explain what happened. You can't just leave and not tell me anything."
'He won't say anything.' I'd sighed. Rubbing my face for what seemed like the hundredth time. 'I've found your protégé, will you leave us alone now?' But Fred wasn't stupid, he suspected he wasn't alone, he looked so weak he'd never have survived on his own.
"Don't fuck with me, Carlos. I don't like it." He had run his hand over his face too, before resting his eyes on my colleague. "Charles, do you want to tell me what happened? If you don't tell me-"
"Give it up Fred, he won't say anything."
"Carlos. He had finally spoken. 'There were guys with him...' I couldn't imagine him telling on those two guys, even I wouldn't have been able to do it. I didn't care about them, but if they came after us, I honestly didn't know who would win. "They had armbands from the Western camp. They talked about a leader..."
