Bloodlines of Survival

Chapter 11: The Descent

As the SUV sped down the deserted highway, Gwen's thoughts raced faster than the vehicle. The encounter at the store lingered in her mind, feeding the growing dread that churned in her gut. She gripped the steering wheel so tightly her knuckles turned white, her focus fixed on the road ahead.

But it wasn't just the memory of the man's terrified eyes that haunted her—it was the gnawing hunger that clawed at her insides, demanding satisfaction. It was stronger now, almost unbearable, a primal urge she struggled to suppress. And with every passing mile, it became harder to convince herself that she was still in control.

"Mom?" Samantha's voice cut through the silence, pulling Gwen from her dark thoughts.

Gwen glanced in the rearview mirror, meeting her daughter's worried gaze. "Yes, sweetie?"

Samantha hesitated, her small fingers twisting the hem of her shirt. "Are we... are we going to see Grandma?"

The question hit Gwen like a punch to the chest. She had avoided talking about what they had seen at her mother's house, had tried to shield the kids from the truth. But she couldn't lie to them, not now. They deserved better than that.

"Not anymore, sweetheart," Gwen said softly, her voice tinged with sadness. "We're going to find somewhere else, somewhere safe."

Kohl's head popped up from where he'd been resting against the window. "But where? There's no one left."

Gwen bit her lip, searching for an answer she didn't have. "I don't know," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "But I promise, I'll keep you safe. We'll keep each other safe."

Kohl and Samantha exchanged a glance, their faces a mix of fear and confusion. They were too young to understand the full extent of what was happening, but they were old enough to sense the danger lurking just beyond their mother's reassurances.

Gwen turned her attention back to the road, trying to push the dark thoughts away. But the hunger was relentless, a constant presence in her mind, whispering temptations she couldn't ignore. It had become a living thing inside her, clawing at her sanity with every passing moment.

She thought of Jamie—his scratch, the way the infection had spread through him so quickly. He had fought it, had tried to stay strong, but in the end, the darkness had claimed him. The memory of his final moments—his eyes darkening, his voice breaking as he begged her to protect the kids—played on a loop in her mind.

The truth was, Gwen was terrified that she was following the same path. The blackness in her eyes, the way her senses had sharpened, the hunger—it was all evidence that she was changing. And what terrified her most was that the kids might be too.

Kohl had complained about the light hurting his eyes, and Samantha's hearing had become so sensitive that even the rustling of leaves made her wince. Gwen had tried to convince herself that it was just paranoia, that the kids were fine, but deep down she knew the truth.

She had passed the virus to them.

The realization hit her like a truck, nearly making her swerve off the road. Her hands shook as she steadied the wheel, her breath coming in shallow gasps. It was her fault. She had infected them, condemned them to the same fate as her.

No. She couldn't let that happen. She wouldn't let that happen.

"We're going to make it," Gwen whispered, more to herself than to the kids. "We have to."

But the hunger gnawed at her, and the temptation grew stronger. She had avoided raw meat, had stuck to the cans of beans and bottled water they had scavenged, but it was getting harder to resist. The thought of tearing into something warm, something fresh, made her mouth water, her stomach churn with need.

She knew it was only a matter of time before she lost the battle against the darkness inside her. And when that happened, she couldn't trust herself around the kids.

The SUV rumbled over a pothole, jolting her back to reality. They had to keep moving, had to find somewhere safe before it was too late. But with every mile, the hope of finding sanctuary faded.

The sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the road. As night fell, Gwen knew they needed to stop soon. Driving in the dark was too dangerous, especially with the mutants prowling the roads. She scanned the horizon for any sign of shelter, her heart sinking as the landscape remained empty and desolate.

Then, in the distance, she saw it—a small farmhouse, nestled in a grove of trees, its windows dark but intact. It looked abandoned, but it was the best option they had. She turned off the main road and steered the SUV down the dirt path leading to the house.

The kids stirred in the backseat as the car came to a stop. Gwen killed the engine and sat in silence for a moment, listening to the eerie stillness around them. Her heart raced with anticipation and fear, the hunger gnawing at her insides like a living thing.

"Stay close to me," Gwen said, her voice low and tense. "We're going to check the house. If it's safe, we'll spend the night here."

The kids nodded, their faces pale and drawn. Gwen grabbed the backpack of supplies and got out of the car, leading the way to the farmhouse. The door creaked as she pushed it open, the sound echoing through the empty rooms.

Inside, the house was dark and dusty, but it was intact. The furniture was old and worn, the air thick with the scent of mildew, but there were no signs of recent occupation. It was as safe a place as any they were likely to find.

"This will do," Gwen said, trying to sound more confident than she felt. "We'll stay here tonight. Get some rest."

Kohl and Samantha nodded, too exhausted to argue. They followed Gwen into a small bedroom, the bed covered in a thin layer of dust. Gwen brushed it off and helped the kids settle in, pulling a blanket over them.

"Mom?" Samantha's voice was small, trembling with fear. "Are the monsters going to find us?"

Gwen's heart ached at the question. "No, sweetie. We're safe here. I won't let anything happen to you."

But even as she said the words, she knew she was lying. She couldn't protect them from what was happening to her, couldn't stop the darkness that was slowly taking over. And if the mutants found them...

Gwen clenched her fists, pushing the thoughts away. She had to stay strong, had to resist the hunger, at least for tonight. She kissed the kids on their foreheads, then left the room, closing the door quietly behind her.

In the kitchen, Gwen found a can of food and forced herself to eat, the taste bland and unsatisfying. The hunger gnawed at her, growing more insistent with every bite. She could feel the darkness closing in, threatening to overwhelm her.

She sank to the floor, clutching her head in her hands. "Not yet," she whispered to herself. "Not yet."

But deep down, she knew it was only a matter of time before the darkness consumed her, before the hunger became too strong to resist. And when that happened, she didn't know if she would be able to stop herself from hurting the ones she loved most.

The night was long and sleepless, the house creaking with every gust of wind, the darkness pressing in on all sides. Gwen lay on the floor, listening to the sound of the kids' breathing in the next room, fighting the urge to give in to the hunger.

As dawn approached, Gwen knew she couldn't stay here. They had to keep moving, had to find a place where she could protect the kids from the darkness inside her. But with every step, the temptation grew stronger, the hunger more insistent.

She didn't know how much longer she could fight it.

And as the first light of day filtered through the cracked windows, Gwen realized that no matter where they went, there was no escaping what she had become.