The mask felt foreign the first time she pulled it over her face. Black cloth, scratchy at the edges, smelled faintly of oil and iron. It covered her mouth and nose like theirs did. Identity erased. Breath muffled. But it didn't suffocate her.
It made her invisible.
They called it "going ghost."
Donnie had handed it to her that morning with a simple nod and a grunted, "You're in now."
She was already dressed in the same black layers as the brothers — not clean, not flashy, just utilitarian. Pockets, straps, holsters. She carried her blade low on her hip and a newly gifted short sword across her back. She moved like them now: low, alert, tight-knit. Years in a group? No. Just a month of blood, sweat, bruises, and relentless training until her very instincts fell in line with theirs.
They called her Ghost.
And that morning, the world welcomed her back with rot.
The city groaned as they stepped out of the maintenance tunnels. Overgrown cars rusted in place, street signs dangled on single screws. The wind howled through empty buildings, kicking up ash and leaves.
Leo took point, hand flashing a silent command: Eyes up. Formation tight.
Donnie was behind him, map tucked into his vest, tapping coordinates into his watch every few blocks. Raph held rear. Mickey flanked her. They moved like a single organism. Jade slotted in between them, a beat behind Leo, eyes constantly shifting.
She mimicked them without being told. When Leo ducked low beneath a crumbling support beam, she did the same. When Mickey tapped two fingers to his temple, her gaze snapped forward. When Donnie froze and held up his fist, she did too, body tense, breath caught in her throat.
A walker stumbled from the alley up ahead, jaw hanging like wet rope.
Leo didn't flinch. He pointed.
You. Ghost.
She stepped forward.
Her knife found the soft spot beneath the jaw. A swift, silent kill. One step, one slice. No hesitation.
When she turned back, Raph gave a satisfied grunt.
"Well, damn. You have been payin' attention."
"She's a little monster now," Mickey said with a smirk behind his mask. "Love that for her."
They kept moving.
The first house was a wash. Nothing but moldy pillows and a family of raccoons. The second had old supplies — gauze, aspirin, gauze again. Jade pocketed a spool of sewing thread. You never knew.
They hit five more houses. Canned peaches. Expired beef jerky. A box of nine-millimeter rounds. Jade hauled a half-full duffel, the weight familiar now. Her shoulders ached, but her eyes never stopped scanning.
Leo showed her their route strategy. Donnie quizzed her on points of egress. Mickey demonstrated how to test floorboards for weak spots with just your toe and a tilt of your weight. Raph taught her how to use a drawer as a weapon.
They stopped in an old gas station. The bell above the door jingled like a ghost. Mickey crushed it with his boot.
"Too loud," he muttered.
Jade slid behind the counter, checked drawers. Empty. A register broken open long ago. Dust. A dead cricket.
"Jackpot!" Leo called softly from the candy rack.
He held up a battered plastic bag of suckers. Red, orange, purple. Sugar-coated salvation.
"We ration these for morale," Donnie said.
Leo tossed one to her. Cherry. Her favorite, not that she said it. He just seemed to know.
She caught it, unwrapped it with her teeth, and shoved it under the mask.
"Now you're one of us," Raph said.
Outside, the world stank of rot. A half-eaten deer carcass steamed in the midday heat. Flies gathered like prayers.
They came upon another walker — two, then four. A pack.
"Formation Delta," Leo ordered.
Jade flanked left.
She moved before thinking now. One slammed into her side, and she spun, slashed low. Mickey caught her eye mid-motion, grinned.
"Showoff," he muttered.
She rolled her eyes and kicked a walker into Raph's waiting arms. He lifted it and body-slammed it into a rusted car hood.
"Remind me never to piss you off," she said.
"Too late."
By the time the sun began to fall, they'd looted two pharmacies and a small clinic. The backpacks were heavy, and Mickey walked with a limp from a twisted ankle.
Still, no one complained.
Jade found herself beside Donnie as they crossed a creek on a fallen tree.
"So," he said, breaking the long silence, "You trust us yet, Ghost?"
She shrugged.
"You hit me less now. That's something."
He chuckled. "We hit 'cause we care."
"That explains so much."
He bumped her shoulder.
She didn't flinch.
Later, back at the tunnels, they dumped the loot onto sorting tables. Amiel stood watching from the corner, silent as ever. Jade caught his nod.
Approval.
The suckers were split evenly, two each. Leo made a joke about how Mickey probably stuck his up his butt to keep them safe.
Mickey responded by throwing a can of beans at his head.
Donnie wrote notes in the ledger. Raph handed Jade a rag and gestured at the mess on her pants.
"Or were you savin' that blood for somethin'?"
"Yeah," she said. "A scrapbook."
The boys laughed.
Jade smiled behind her mask.
For the first time in weeks, her hands didn't shake. Her back didn't ache with tension. Her thoughts weren't clawing toward escape.
This was still hell.
But maybe she could breathe here.
Maybe, just maybe...
She belonged.
YOU ARE READING
When The World Ends
Action"What happens when the world ends?" He asks in my arms. "We build it back up again." Jade Jacklyn Joy is a 25 year old girl who had a rough upbring. She was the Grimes babysitter for 9 years before the apocalypse happened. Spending that much time w...
