In the silence of the night, we became shadows, each of us chasing hope, hope that the world might spare us, again, just a little longer

I woke up to the sound of quiet murmurs and the distant crackling of the fire. For a moment, I forgot where I was—forgot the world outside, the death, the hunger. The warmth against my back almost felt comforting. Almost.

Then I realized what it was.

Kennedy.

At some point in the night, his arm had slung over my waist, his breath slow and steady against the back of my neck. I froze, unsure whether to move or just pretend I was still asleep.

Unfortunately, I didn’t get to decide.

A low groan broke through the silence. Not from Kennedy. Not from Sophie or Andy.

Something outside.

My stomach twisted. I shifted carefully, my hand reaching for the knife I kept close. Kennedy stirred beside me, his grip instinctively tightening for a second before his eyes snapped open. His gaze met mine, heavy with the same realization.

We weren’t alone.

Sophie was already up, standing by the window, her face tense. The fire had burned low, its glow barely illuminating the room.

Kennedy sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes before reaching for his gun. “How many?” he asked, his voice hushed.

Sophie’s fingers curled into a fist. “Too many.”

Another groan. Closer this time. Followed by the slow, wet drag of something against the pavement.

Andy coughed weakly, and Sophie was instantly at his side, pressing a hand to his chest as if to will him into silence. My pulse pounded in my ears. If they heard us…

Kennedy’s jaw tightened. “We can’t stay here.”

I swallowed. I already knew that.

But where the hell were we supposed to go?

Awhile later Sophie came up with a plan to escape. Andy was injured but still in shape to run with us.

We prepared stuff to take with us. Food, ropes, weapons in good use, aid kit and much more.

Andy was asked if he could run— he just laughed it off by saying, “Are you looking down on me, youngsters? Don’t make me laugh! I used to fight a mountain lion!” He chuckled and we all did as well.

Later we slipped through a narrow alley, avoiding the main streets where the undead roamed freely. The stench of decay clung to the air, but I forced myself to breathe through my mouth and keep moving. Every step felt like stepping into the unknown—danger could be anywhere.

Then, something caught my eye.

A massive spiderweb stretched between two broken pipes, its silken threads glistening under the dim light. And trapped in the middle of it, struggling weakly, was a beautiful white moth.

I froze.

Its wings fluttered desperately, but the more it fought, the more tangled it became. The web trembled as dozens of spiders—small but fast—began swarming toward it. My stomach twisted. I knew what was about to happen.

Most spiders are territorial. They don’t share their webs. But these weren’t ordinary spiders. They were Anelosimus eximius—social spiders. They always work together.

The moth shook violently, trying to free itself. But it was alone. Helpless. Surrounded.

And I just stood there, watching.

The spiders reached their prey, legs skittering over the silk. In seconds, they were on it—tearing, biting, ripping it apart until there was nothing left.

I swallowed hard, gripping my knife.

That moth… was us.

Humans, trapped in a web we can’t escape from, with monsters closing in from all sides. And the zombies… they were the spiders. Mindless. Relentless. Devouring anything in their path.

And me? Who did I represent?

I just stood there, didn’t I? Watching it die, doing nothing.

I represented God.

A God who sees everything—who has the power to intervene but doesn’t. People always say He has a plan, that He knows what He’s doing. But maybe knowing isn’t the same as caring. Maybe He’s just watching, waiting for the right time to interfere.

Just like me.

I clenched my fists, tearing my gaze away from the web. The moth was gone. The spiders had already moved on.

And so did we.

Sophie held me closer to her—protecting me, since I’m the youngest between us four.

We moved quietly, trying not to make a sound, as if the mere noise of our breath could give us away. My heart thudded in my chest, and every step felt like it echoed in the silence around us. The alleys stretched out ahead, dark and empty, but with every corner we turned, I felt the weight of something—someone—watching. The shadows seemed to grow longer, more oppressive.

Kennedy led the way, his gun held low but ready. Sophie followed close behind, her hand never leaving her knife. Andy, surprisingly steady despite his injury, stayed at the rear. I was in the middle, sticking as close to Sophie as possible. Her warmth, her presence, was the only thing keeping my mind from spiraling into panic.

“How much farther?” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

“Not far,” Kennedy murmured, glancing over his shoulder. “Just stay sharp.”

We slipped through another narrow street, the windows of abandoned buildings shattered, the doors hanging off their hinges like broken bones. The world outside had become a graveyard—silent and suffocating.

As we neared the next block, a noise—low, shuffling—reached my ears. My body tensed, but I kept moving. We’d come this far. There was no turning back now.

A figure staggered into the dim light, its head hanging low, arms reaching out like a zombie out of one of the old horror films. But this one wasn’t alone. More were emerging from the shadows, their movements slow but unmistakably hungry. My stomach turned. The spiders weren’t the only things hunting.

“Too many,” Sophie muttered, her voice tight.

I nodded, my throat dry. The world was shrinking, the noose tightening around us.

“Ready?” Kennedy asked, turning to us, his face grim. We all gave small nods, a silent agreement. No more hesitation.

We moved in a quick, tight formation. Kennedy’s gun was raised, Sophie’s knife out, and Andy’s hand was on his sidearm, though I could see he was slower than usual. I gripped my knife tighter, trying not to think about what we might have to do.

“Stay focused,” Kennedy whispered again.

We made it halfway down the street when the first scream pierced the air. A wild, guttural sound—nothing human. A zombie had spotted us.

I couldn’t stop myself from flinching.

Kennedy didn’t hesitate. The gunshot rang out, the body crumpling to the ground, but more followed, crawling over the broken pavement toward us.

“Go!” he shouted, and we broke into a sprint, running down the alley, our footsteps heavy in the dead silence that followed.

The only sound was the pounding of our feet, the dragging, wet steps of the undead behind us.

I could hear them getting closer, the stench of decay mingling with the cold, stale air. My lungs burned with each step, but I pushed forward. There was no room for fear. Not now.

We reached another narrow gap between buildings, and Kennedy signaled for us to stop. He motioned toward a fire escape above us.

“Up. Now!” he barked.

Sophie helped Andy first, pulling him up with surprising strength despite her own exhaustion. Then she reached down for me, grabbing my hand, and I scrambled up after her. The rungs of the ladder felt like they were burning under my fingers, but I didn’t stop.

Kennedy was last, his eyes scanning the street below. He pulled himself up just as a shriek tore through the air, closer than I’d ever heard before.

He didn’t need to say it. We were running out of time.

We climbed, pulling ourselves onto the rooftop. The cold wind hit my face, sharp and stinging. I barely noticed it, too focused on the task at hand.

“Where now?” I asked, breathless.

“Across,” Kennedy said, pointing to the next building. It was too far to jump, too risky to try, but I didn’t question him. Not now.

We moved across the rooftop, each of us navigating the broken debris as best we could. The sky above was dark, clouds shifting slowly, and the distant moon seemed far away. Too far.

Sophie’s grip on my shoulder tightened, as though afraid I’d fall behind. I knew what she was thinking. The same thing I was.

What if we didn’t make it?

But I didn’t say it aloud. No one did.

We kept moving.

The night was far from over. And neither were we.