Age of zombies

[49] First snowfall

The air had a sharp bite to it, the kind that cuts through even the thickest layers of clothing and sends a chill straight to your bones. The first snow of the season had begun to fall, blanketing the Rocky Mountains in a thin layer of white that crunched underfoot. It was beautiful in a way—silent and still, the world wrapped in a cold, quiet calm—but it also carried a sense of foreboding. Winter was coming, and out here in the wilderness, winter wasn't just cold; it was deadly.

We had scavenged what we could from Liam's cabin before we left, stuffing our packs with extra blankets, a couple of old coats, and anything that looked like it could help us survive the freezing nights that were fast approaching. The weight of those supplies felt heavier now, knowing what had happened back there. No one wanted to talk about it. We all knew it wasn't over—Liam's madness, the reality of what we'd just lived through—it was just beginning to sink in.

The wind picked up as we made our way north, its icy fingers clawing at our faces and stealing the warmth from our bodies. When we finally found a decent spot to set up camp, it was already getting dark, and the snow had begun to fall more steadily. Each flake drifted down lazily, landing softly on the ground and the branches above us, creating an almost peaceful scene.

Daisy was the first to start gathering firewood, her movements methodical but tired. "We need to get this fire going," she muttered, mostly to herself. "Gonna freeze our asses off if we don't."

Ethan tried striking the matches we'd found earlier, but the wind kept snuffing out the tiny sparks. "Goddammit," he cursed, his hands shaking slightly from the cold. "Come on, you piece of shit..."

After several attempts, the fire finally took, the small flames flickering weakly at first but gradually growing stronger as the wood caught. We huddled close around the campfire, the heat barely enough to ward off the chill in the air, but it was better than nothing. The snow continued to fall around us, a steady whisper in the night, while the mountains loomed like silent sentinels in the distance, their peaks barely visible through the swirling white.

We ate in silence, tearing into the deer jerky with little enthusiasm. No one was in the mood to talk after what had happened earlier today. The events back at Liam's cabin hung over us like a dark cloud, the image of him turning, the madness in his eyes, the way his blood had sprayed across the floor. It was too fresh, too raw.

Yabe sat quietly beside me, her knees drawn up to her chest, her face pale and distant. Liza stared into the fire, her jaw clenched as she chewed on the jerky, not saying a word. Daisy didn't even bother trying to make conversation. The tension was thick, the silence heavy with unspoken thoughts and the cold reality of what we were all going through.

The snow kept falling, softly covering the world in white, as we sat there, each of us alone with our thoughts, the fire the only source of warmth in the growing darkness.

***

The snow continued to fall softly, a steady, silent blanket over the camp. The cold air was biting, even with the fire burning low in the center of our little circle. Yabe and I had taken the first shift for the night watch, sitting close to each other as the others slept, their breath visible in the freezing air. It was quiet, almost peaceful, but there was something heavy between us that neither of us had spoken about yet.

Yabe sat beside me, her hands tucked into her coat, her long white hair trailing down her back like a silken curtain. Her eyes, dark and gentle, stared out into the snow-covered wilderness. For a long time, neither of us said anything. It felt like the weight of everything—the zombies, the survival, the hell we'd been through today—had stolen the words from our mouths.

But then, Yabe broke the silence.

"Senpai," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper, "I've always... admired you."

I blinked, turning to look at her. Even in the dim light of the fire, I could see her cheeks redden, and for a moment, I wasn't sure how to respond. The way she said it—so quiet, so sincere—it caught me off guard.

"You admire me?" I asked, surprised.

She nodded, looking down at her hands. "Yes... ever since we met. You always seemed so calm, like nothing could shake you. Even now, with everything falling apart... you're still here. Still protecting us."

I felt my own face flush, and I wasn't sure if it was the cold or something else. "Yabe, I'm not... I'm not calm at all. I'm just doing my best, trying to keep us alive."

She looked up at me, her eyes shimmering with something I couldn't quite place—admiration, fear, sadness. "When we met, back at the café, I always looked forward to seeing you. You were like the one good thing in my day, when everything else felt so... empty."

I smiled awkwardly, feeling a rush of warmth in my chest that had nothing to do with the fire. "I... I felt the same way. You were the best part of my day, too. Just seeing you, even if it was just for a moment while ordering coffee... it made everything feel better, somehow."

Yabe's blush deepened, and I realized I was blushing too. For a moment, there was a comfortable silence between us, the kind where words weren't really necessary. But then, Yabe's expression shifted, her eyes growing wet with unshed tears.

"I don't know if I'll ever see my parents again," she whispered, her voice cracking. "I try to stay strong, but... I'm scared. I'm so scared I'll never see them, that they're gone, and I didn't even get to say goodbye."

Her tears started to fall, slowly at first, and then she broke down, covering her face with her hands. My chest tightened, and without thinking, I reached out and pulled her close. She didn't resist, burying her face in my chest as she sobbed quietly, her body trembling against mine.

"I'm sorry," she choked out, her voice muffled against my jacket. "I shouldn't... I shouldn't be falling apart like this."

"Yabe," I said softly, wrapping my arms around her, "you don't have to apologize for being human."

She shook her head, her tears still falling. "But you... you're always so strong. How do you do it? How do you stay so strong when everything is falling apart?"

I sighed, resting my chin on top of her head, feeling the weight of her question. I didn't have an easy answer for that. I didn't feel strong, not really. Every day felt like a battle just to keep going.

"I'm not strong," I admitted, my voice quiet but honest. "I'm just doing what I can. We all are. There are days when I want to break down, too. Days when I don't know if I can keep going."

Yabe looked up at me, her face streaked with tears. "But you don't... you keep going."

"I keep going because of you. Because of everyone. It's not strength—it's just... being human." I wiped the tears from her cheeks gently. "We're all scared. We're all hurting. But we keep going because that's what we do. That's what it means to survive."

She sniffled, her eyes softening. "You make it sound so simple."

I chuckled, shaking my head. "It's not simple. It's hard as hell. But we're still here, right? And that's what matters."

Yabe's grip tightened on my jacket, and she buried her face in my chest again, her tears slowing but not stopping entirely. "Thank you, Senpai... for always being there."

I held her close, my heart pounding as the cold night air swirled around us. "I'll always be here. I promise."

For a long time, we just sat there, wrapped in each other's arms, finding comfort in the quiet of the night and the warmth of our shared moment. The snow fell softly around us, and the campfire flickered gently, casting shadows on the trees. It was a fleeting moment of peace in a world that had none left to give.

And in that moment, it was enough.

Q: Do you like snow?