Overthinking never leads to anything good. Acceptance is what allows us to move forward

I stormed out, my heart pounding as I scanned the area. The cool night air hit me like a slap, but I barely noticed. My body still ached, my arm throbbed, but none of that mattered right now.

Kennedy stood near the truck, his back turned to me, head bowed slightly. A cigarette burned between his fingers, the ember flaring bright in the darkness before he took a slow drag. His posture was stiff, tense—like he knew I was coming.

I didn’t slow down.

“You,” I snapped, my voice cutting through the quiet.

Kennedy didn’t turn immediately. He exhaled a cloud of smoke, watching it drift into the night before finally glancing over his shoulder. His expression was unreadable, but I could see the exhaustion in his eyes, the shadows that clung to his face.

“What the hell did you do to me?” My voice was sharp, my hands shaking at my sides.

He flicked the cigarette away, watching as it disappeared into the dirt. “I saved your life.”

“With what?” I took a step closer, my pulse roaring in my ears. “Some random blue liquid you found in a truck? You didn’t even know what it was!”

Kennedy’s jaw tightened. “And yet, here you are. Alive.”

I faltered for half a second. He was right. I should be dead, or worse. But I wasn’t.

I shook my head, refusing to back down. “That’s not an answer, Kennedy. What was it? Why would you—” My voice broke slightly, frustration and fear twisting together inside me. “Why would you take that risk?”

Kennedy finally turned to face me fully. His gaze locked onto mine, unwavering. “Because I wasn’t going to let you die.”

Silence stretched between us.

His words hit me harder than I expected. There was something raw in them, something that made my throat tighten.

I swallowed. “You still don’t know if it worked.”

He studied me for a long moment before saying, “That’s why I tried, If i didn’t— you would’ve died anyway. Don’t you agree?” He stated and questioned me with those blue eyes and a serious look.

He was right.

I hated that he was right.

My gaze dropped to my arm, to the bandage still wrapped around it. It should have been the end for me. I should have been feverish, slipping away, turning into one of them.

But I wasn’t.

I was standing here, breathing, arguing with him.

My stomach twisted. “What if it’s just delaying it?” My voice was quieter now, the anger giving way to something else—fear.

Kennedy didn’t answer right away. Instead, he let out a slow breath, running a hand through his hair. “Then we deal with it.”

I frowned. “That’s not an answer.”

He tilted his head slightly. “Neither is worrying about something that hasn’t happened yet.”

I bit my lip, looking away. The weight of everything pressed down on me, suffocating. My mom. The bite. The fact that I wasn’t infected. It didn’t make sense. None of this made sense.

Kennedy sighed. “Get some rest, kid.” His voice was softer now, but still firm. “We’ll figure it out in the morning.”

I hesitated. I didn’t want to go back inside, didn’t want to sit in that cabin pretending everything was fine. But the exhaustion in my bones won.

Without another word, I turned and walked away, feeling Kennedy’s eyes on me the whole time.

As I walked back into the safe house, Sophie and Andy were laughing and preparing something to eat. Looks like dried meat.

I hovered near the doorway for a moment, watching them. The warmth of their laughter felt out of place—too normal, too human for the world outside.

Sophie glanced up first, her smile softening when she saw me. “There you are, dear. Feeling any better?”

I nodded, though I wasn’t sure if it was true. My mind was still racing, tangled with questions I didn’t have answers to. “Yeah.” My voice was quieter than I intended.

Andy waved a piece of dried meat in the air. “Come on, sit down. You need to eat. Can’t have you keeling over from hunger after surviving a damn zombie bite.”

Sophie shot him a look, but I could see the amusement in her eyes.

I hesitated before stepping forward, lowering myself onto the worn-out couch near the small wooden table. The scent of food filled the air—dried meat, something vaguely soupy. My stomach twisted, unsure if it was hunger or nerves.

Sophie placed a small portion in front of me. “It’s not much, but it’ll help.”

I stared at it for a moment before picking up a piece, chewing slowly. It was salty, tough, but it grounded me—something real in all the chaos.

Andy leaned back in his chair, grinning. “You should’ve seen Kennedy’s face when he poured that weird blue stuff on you. Thought he was pulling some magic trick or something.”

I swallowed hard, gripping the edge of the table. “What if it wasn’t just luck?”

Sophie’s brow furrowed. “What do you mean, dear?”

I hesitated. “What if… that stuff actually did something?”

Andy chuckled. “Well, if that’s the case, we just stumbled on the cure, kid.”

The room fell silent for a beat.

A cure.

The thought sent a shiver down my spine. It couldn’t be that simple… could it?

“Dear, how long do you and Kennedy know each other?” Sophie questioned with a soft smile on her face. Her smile lifting her soft cheeks as her eyes looking in mine.

“I don’t know how long, but were not that close either. He saved me from zombies. I was kidnapped at the age of 14 and apparently I’m 18 years old. I owe him ever since then, even though I can’t handle his crusty personality.” I laughed and they did as well.

“Well, I mean it seemed like you know each other way more than that.” She paused and took a bite of her dried meat.

Chewing she continued, “Like Andy said— The look on his face was something else. A look you would give to the one you really cared about.”

Andy nodded.

“He was mumbling to himself and the desperation written all over his face at the time was obvious. Desperation to save you somehow.”

My heart began pounding as I listened to those words. Desperate to save me? Why?

My thought were cut off as the front door opened and the cold air hit my back. Kennedy.

I didn’t have to turn around to know it was him. The heavy sound of his boots against the wooden floor, the way the air seemed to shift when he entered—it was unmistakable.

Sophie and Andy went quiet, their eyes flickering between us as Kennedy stepped further inside. He didn’t say anything at first. He just exhaled sharply, rubbing a hand down his face before glancing toward the table.

“Dinner?” he muttered, voice rough from the cold.

Andy smirked, clearly amused by the tension. “Dried meat special. Want some?”

Kennedy ignored him, his gaze shifting to me. His expression was unreadable, but I could still hear Andy’s words echoing in my mind.

Desperation to save you.