With Our Time Left

Chapter 6

STEPHEN'S POV

I charged forward, my hands tight around the metal pipe I had picked up earlier. The woman's screams grew louder, more frantic, as the undead closed in around her. I could feel my heart hammering in my chest, my breath coming in quick, sharp bursts. I needed to reach her in time, to pull her out of this nightmare before it swallowed her whole.

But with every step I took, I saw her more clearly—her wild, desperate eyes, the way she swung the pipe with all her might, even though I could tell she was exhausted. And for a moment, just a moment, she looked like Lori. Helpless. Terrified. Just like she had been that night when I told her it was over. When I couldn't fight anymore, couldn't keep pretending that I wasn't falling apart inside.

My feet kept moving, but my mind was somewhere else, back in that sterile, quiet courtroom. The day we signed the papers. The day our marriage officially died. Lori had sat across from me, tears streaming down her face, and I had felt so hollow, so numb, like there was nothing left of me but an empty shell.

I remembered her voice, barely a whisper, "Stephen, please... we can still fix this." But I couldn't. Not then. Not after the year we'd had. My father dying so suddenly, leaving me with a thousand unsaid things, a thousand regrets that clawed at me every night. Then my mom's accident... the phone call that shattered everything, the sight of her lying in that hospital bed, breathing but not really alive.

And I couldn't do anything. I couldn't save her. I couldn't save any of them.

I remember feeling like I was sinking, like every step I took was dragging me deeper into quicksand. Lori had tried to reach me, tried to pull me out, but I was too far gone. I'd pushed her away, closed myself off. I couldn't look at her without seeing the disappointment in her eyes, without feeling like I was failing her, failing our children, failing everyone.

I should have fought harder. I should have tried to save us. But I was so tired. So damn tired.

The woman in front of me screamed again, snapping me back to the present. I was almost there. Just a few more steps. I raised the pipe, ready to swing at the nearest undead, to carve a path to her. But there were too many of them. Too many, too close.

"Dad!" Samuel's voice cut through the chaos. I turned my head slightly, just enough to see him and Mila, both ready to help, both looking to me for a plan. For hope. I nodded, pushing the memories back down, forcing myself to focus.

"We're almost there!" I shouted back, trying to sound confident, trying to believe it myself.

I swung the pipe, connecting with a skull, feeling the crunch of bone beneath the metal. The creature dropped, but three more took its place. The woman was still fighting, but I could see the terror in her eyes, the way her movements were slowing. She was losing strength, losing hope.

Just like Lori had lost hope in me.

I lunged forward, reaching out my hand to her. "Come on!" I shouted. "Take my hand!"

She hesitated, eyes wide with fear, and I saw Lori's face again, the way she had looked at me in those final moments, like she was searching for something that wasn't there anymore. Something I couldn't give her.

The woman tried to grab my hand, but one of the undead lunged at her, knocking her off balance. She stumbled, and I saw the desperation in her eyes turn to resignation. She knew, just as I knew. We weren't going to make it.

"No!" I yelled, swinging wildly, trying to clear a path, trying to do something, anything. But it was too late. The creatures swarmed her, dragging her down. Her screams cut through me like a knife, and I felt a surge of helplessness, that same damn feeling that had haunted me for years.

I had failed again.

"Dad, we have to go!" Samuel shouted, his voice urgent, panicked. "We can't save her!"

I stood there, frozen, staring at the mass of bodies, at the woman who was no longer a woman, just another victim. Just like I had stood there in that courtroom, watching Lori walk away, knowing I'd lost her, too. Knowing it was my fault.

"Dad!" Samuel grabbed my arm, pulling me back. "We have to go, now!"

I blinked, snapping out of it, feeling the weight of the moment crush down on me. I nodded, turning away from the woman, from the scene, from the memories. "Right," I muttered, my voice thick, my throat tight. "Let's go."

We turned and ran, back up the street, away from the horde. I could feel the hot sting of tears in my eyes, but I pushed them down, focused on the task at hand.

But I couldn't shake the feeling that I had failed again. Failed to save that woman, failed to save Lori, failed to save everything that had mattered to me.

We ducked into an alley, and I pressed my back against the wall, my breath coming in short, sharp gasps. Mila looked at me, her face pale, her eyes wide with fear. "Dad... are you okay?"

I nodded, swallowing hard, trying to steady my voice. "I'm fine," I lied, wiping the sweat—or maybe the tears—from my face. "We just... we keep moving. We keep looking for your mom and Sara. We don't stop."

Samuel watched me carefully, his face a mixture of concern and something else. I saw a flicker of understanding in his eyes, a flicker of the same determination I used to have. "We'll find them, Dad," he said quietly, his voice steady. "We won't fail this time."

I nodded, but I wasn't sure if I believed him. I wasn't sure if I believed anything anymore. All I knew was that we had to keep moving. We had to keep trying, even if I felt like I was already lost.