CHAPTER XXX
I had no choice but to leave.
With my body still sore and my mind weighed down by everything I had been through, I decided to follow Evelyn and Alex on what felt like a dangerous, uncertain mission. A part of me was still scared, still healing — but there was something in Evelyn's voice, in Alex's quiet determination, that told me I needed to go. That maybe… this was the path that would finally lead to answers. Maybe even to Mon.
Evelyn had made things clear — our destination was an isolated island, far from the chaos, where an abandoned medical research facility once existed. According to her, that factory had once developed several powerful medicines. She believed there might be something there — a formula, a sample, a prototype — anything that could lead us to a cure for the zombie virus.
But deep inside, I had my doubts. Not just about the mission, but about Evelyn and Alex themselves. They were hiding something.
I could see it in their eyes. The way they exchanged glances when I asked certain questions. The way their voices shifted whenever the subject of the factory came up.
They knew something… something they weren't telling me.
Still, what option did I really have? I was alone, injured, and desperate to help save whatever was left of this world — desperate to reach Mon again. If there was even a sliver of hope on that island, I had to chase it.
We were all gearing up to leave, and that's when I looked at myself — really looked. My clothes were torn, stained with blood and dust. My uniform, once a symbol of strength, was now just a memory clinging to shredded fabric. I wasn't even sure it could be called a uniform anymore.
I sighed quietly.
Evelyn noticed and walked up to me with a gentle smile. "Here," she said, handing me a set of clean clothes. "You need to change. You'll feel better."
With her help, I cleaned up and changed into something more practical — something that didn't remind me of all the wounds I had endured. The soft fabric against my skin felt foreign but comforting. Like a small promise that maybe things could be better. That maybe I could be stronger again.
Once I was ready, we moved quickly.
Alex's old jeep was parked outside the mansion, hidden beneath leaves and tarp. It creaked as it started, groaning like it hadn't been driven in years — but somehow, it still roared to life.
Evelyn got in beside him, and I sat in the back seat, gazing out the broken window at the village we were leaving behind.
So much had happened here — pain, love, betrayal… and survival.
But now, I was leaving it behind.
As the car rolled forward, the silence between the three of us grew heavier. I watched the buildings disappear behind us, one by one, swallowed by dust and fog. The road ahead was cracked and lonely, stretching far beyond the horizon.
I didn't know what awaited us on that island.
I didn't know what truths would come to light.
But one thing was certain:
This wasn't just a journey to a factory.
This was a journey into secrets, into scars… and into the heart of what it truly meant to survive.
My journey had officially begun. I had left behind the mansion, the chaos, and the blood — and stepped into a new chapter of this war-torn world. But even as the wheels of Alex's jeep spun forward, I couldn't shake off the heavy feeling in my chest.
Something didn't feel right.
Alex's eyes, sharp and unreadable, constantly flicked toward the rearview mirror — watching me. Studying me. Like he was hiding something he didn't want me to see.
Evelyn wasn't any different. Her posture was calm, her words careful — but there was something in the way she kept glancing at the tablet she carried, something in the way she tracked my every movement, as though I was more than just an injured teammate. As though… I was part of some deeper plan.
The silence between us grew louder with every passing mile.
Then, just a short distance ahead, a cloud of dust caught Alex's attention. He slowed the car.
Figures appeared on the horizon. Worn, tired, and dragging their feet — a group of survivors. And not just any survivors.
It was them.
Nani. Looka. Elisa. Blue. Aliyana.
And… Mahi. Aarvi. Mon.
My heart skipped a beat.
They were alive.
They were walking, not driving — which meant something had gone terribly wrong. I leaned forward urgently.
"Alex, stop the car."
He didn't question it. The moment the car came to a halt, I threw the door open and stepped out.
The sun was hot, the air dry, but nothing could dull the emotion rising in my chest.
I called out, my voice catching, "Mahi!"
She turned at once — her tired eyes lighting up with disbelief.
"Sam?!"
Before I could say anything more, she broke into a run, tears spilling down her dust-covered face. Aarvi was right behind her. But before either of them could reach me, another figure moved faster.
Mon.
She rushed toward me, her pace quick, her gaze locked only on mine.
And in the next breath — I was in her arms.
She held me tightly, her body trembling against mine as she whispered near my ear, "Sam… you're okay. I knew it. I knew you were alive. Are you hurt? Did anything happen to you?"
I closed my eyes and took in the warmth of her embrace.
"Thank you," I whispered, "for believing in me. For worrying. For not giving up."
Her grip around me tightened, and for a moment, the world felt whole again — even if we were standing in the middle of dust and danger.
Then Mahi and Aarvi reached us, both pulling me into another emotional hug. Their joy was raw, like someone who had found a piece of home they thought was lost forever.
But the moment of reunion didn't last long.
Mahi pulled back, her face now etched with urgency and fear.
"Sam… Lion attacked us."
My body tensed.
"He came out of nowhere — we lost so many. Now only the eight of us are left. We're on foot, barely armed, and… honestly, we don't even know where we are anymore."
Grief swept over the group like a dark wave.
I turned to Blue and Aliyana, who stood in the back, silent and exhausted.
"Will you both come with me?" I asked gently. "I'm headed toward the Greenzone… the island. There's a factory there — one that used to make medicine. Evelyn thinks we can find something to help stop this virus."
At the mention of the Greenzone, Aliyana's expression shifted — cautious, but intrigued.
"The Greenzone," she repeated, "That's the island, right? The one rumored to have the last standing medical research base?"
"Yes," I nodded. "It's a risk. But it might be our only hope."
She and Blue exchanged glances, communicating without words the way only survivors can — that silent language of trust, uncertainty, and shared pain.
Finally, Blue nodded.
"We'll come."
A flicker of hope lit up the faces of the group. It wasn't much — but it was something to move toward. Something to live for.
And the best part?
Alex's jeep was large. A military-grade vehicle, once used to carry supplies, it had plenty of space for all of us. Somehow, we all managed to squeeze in — tired, bruised, and battle-worn, but together again.
As the engine roared to life and we drove off toward the unknown, I looked around at everyone.
There was still fear in their eyes. Still pain from everything we'd lost.
But there was also fire. A will to survive. A bond that even this broken world couldn't destroy.
We weren't just passengers in a car.
We were the last light in a dying world.
And we were on our way… to fight for what was left.
As the jeep rumbled through the broken trails of the post-apocalyptic wilderness, the sun began to dip low in the sky, casting an eerie golden hue across the shattered buildings and empty roads. The silence inside the vehicle was thick — each one of us lost in our thoughts, clutching memories of those we had lost and the fear of what still lay ahead.
Then, Alex finally spoke — his voice breaking the silence but carrying a weight that instantly made everyone listen.
"We have a problem," he said, glancing back at all of us. "We're out of food."
A stunned stillness spread through the group. No one said a word, but the tension was visible. Tired, injured, and emotionally wrecked — and now… starving.
"We won't survive long without supplies," Alex continued. "Especially not on the way to the Greenzone. It's not just far… it's dangerous. And we can't fight, think, or even drive properly without food."
He looked around at all the weary faces, then added, "Which is why we need to search for food. Abandoned houses, roadside shops, anywhere that still might have something edible left. But we can't do it all together — it'll draw too much attention and slow us down."
He paused.
"So, we split into two groups."
The group exchanged hesitant glances. No one wanted to separate — not after everything we had already been through. But deep down, we all knew he was right.
"We'll leave Sam and Evelyn out of the search," Alex said gently, but firmly. "Sam's still injured. And Evelyn… she's our only medical support. If something goes wrong while scavenging, we'll need her safe and ready. We can't risk losing either of them."
I opened my mouth to protest — to say I could handle it, that I could fight if needed — but Evelyn placed a hand gently on my arm.
"No," she said quietly. "He's right. You're not ready yet. You've come this far, Sam… don't throw it away because of guilt."
Reluctantly, I nodded, knowing she was right — though I hated the helplessness clawing at my chest.
Mahi was the first to step forward, her voice steady despite the exhaustion in her eyes. "Alright. I'll lead one group."
"I'll take the second," said Blue, always calm and composed.
"Let's stay within a two-mile radius of this road," Alex instructed. "We don't want to get separated too far. Be back before dark — whatever you find, we'll make do with it."
Mon turned toward me then, her eyes softening as she reached for my hand.
"Stay safe," she whispered.
"You too," I replied, barely able to hide the concern in my voice.
I watched them all move off, slowly vanishing down different paths — some toward shattered homes, others toward dried-up shops and buildings barely standing.
Evelyn helped me settle against the jeep, her hands gentle but her mind clearly distracted — already thinking ahead to injuries she might need to treat or wounds that could reopen on this food hunt.
As the last figure disappeared into the horizon, silence once again wrapped itself around us.
I leaned my head back, staring at the orange sky above. A sky that once promised hope, now hung heavy with uncertainty.
But deep in my heart, a single thought echoed:
Even divided… we're still fighting the same battle.
And if this world had taught us anything, it was this —
Survival didn't always mean strength.
Sometimes, it meant trust.
And trusting them to return safe… was the hardest part of all.
To be continue....