Just because you’re alive and well now doesn’t mean this luxury is the final survival—because even that comes with a price

The atmosphere began to cool down. We arrived to Andy’s and Sophie’s farm

“The Smiths family farm”

We all entered the house and Kennedy stayed outside, not caring about the danger outside.

“Idiot, come on!” I shouted—not to loudly.

He turned his head slightly but didn’t move, his expression unreadable. Then, with a simple tilt of his head, he gestured for me to go inside without him. As if I even cared.

I huffed but didn’t push it. If he wanted to be stubborn, that was his problem. I stepped inside, the warmth of the house wrapping around me instantly. The scent of old wood, faint spices, and something comforting filled the air. It almost felt normal—like before.

Sophie was already setting up sleeping arrangements. She moved with ease, the routine of taking care of others embedded in her every motion.

“Here, I’ll help!” I offered and quickly stepping up beside her for help.

The atmosphere began to cool down. We arrived at Andy and Sophie’s farm.

“The Smith Family Farm.”

The sign was old, worn down by time, but still standing proud near the entrance. The land stretched far and wide, a quiet place untouched by the chaos that swallowed the rest of the world.

We all entered the house, grateful for shelter. Kennedy, however, stayed outside, leaning against the porch railing, his eyes fixed on the dark horizon. His posture was relaxed, but I could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his fingers tapped absentmindedly against the wood.

“Idiot, come on!” I called out, not too loudly, but enough for him to hear.

He turned his head slightly but didn’t move, his expression unreadable. Then, with a simple tilt of his head, he gestured for me to go inside without him. As if I even cared.

I huffed but didn’t push it. If he wanted to be stubborn, that was his problem. I stepped inside, the warmth of the house wrapping around me instantly. The scent of old wood, faint spices, and something comforting filled the air. It almost felt normal—like before.

Sophie was already setting up sleeping arrangements. She moved with ease, the routine of taking care of others embedded in her every motion.

“Here, I’ll help!” I offered, quickly stepping up beside her.

She smiled, handing me a folded blanket. “Thank you, dear. You don’t have to, though. You should rest.”

“I want to help,” I said firmly, taking the blanket and spreading it over one of the makeshift beds. The simple task gave me something to focus on, something to do instead of letting my mind wander.

Andy walked in, stretching his arms with a satisfied sigh. “Feels good to be home,” he muttered, looking around before his gaze landed on Sophie. His face softened.

“Been a while since we had guests, huh, Darling?”

Sophie chuckled. “Sure has. But it’s nice. Almost makes things feel normal again.”

Normal. A word that felt so distant now. It felt so wrong, so out of place—so abnormal.

Kennedy finally stepped inside, hands stuffed in his pockets. His eyes scanned the room before landing on me. I raised an eyebrow at him, but he said nothing, just let out a breath before settling into a chair in the corner.

Andy smirked. “So you finally decided to join us, huh?”

Kennedy shrugged. “Figured I might as well enjoy the luxury while it lasts.”

Andy shook his head with a chuckle. “You kids are something else.”

Sophie clapped her hands together lightly. “Alright then, let’s get everything settled. Tomorrow, we can figure out our next steps.”

“Sophieeee!” I begged but she asked what was wrong.

“Please tell me that the shower works!”

She laughed as well as Andy did. “Of course, do you want to shower now?”

I hummed.

She lead me towards the bathroom and handed me some spare clothes that apparently belonged to her now beloved daughter, Stacy, who had passed away as well as her brothers. May they fly high.

I closed the door and took a deep breath, letting the silence wash over me. The shower was like a luxury I hadn’t known I missed so much. The hot water hit my skin, and I stood there for a moment, letting the warmth seep into my bones, deep, deep into them, trying to forget for just a second the world outside these wooden walls. It was a nice feeling—comfort mixed with the awareness that it wouldn’t last. It couldn’t.

I finished quickly, wiping away the steam from the mirror and changing into the soft, fresh clothes Sophie had given me. They fit well enough, a little loose, but it didn’t matter. The clothes felt like they carried the weight of a different life, that I was carrying someone’s life—one before the chaos.

When I stepped out, Sophie was waiting, a gentle smile on her face. “Better?” she asked softly.

I nodded, trying to hide the exhaustion that threatened to show. “Much better, thank you.”

“Come on,” she said, leading me back into the main room. “We’ll get you set up for the night. I’m sure you’re tired after everything.”

I followed her back to the others. Andy had set up a fire in the small fire place, the flickering flames casting long shadows on the walls. Kennedy sat in the corner, his eyes barely lifting from the book he was reading. He hadn’t spoken much since we arrived, and I didn’t know if it was because he didn’t feel like talking or if he was just waiting for something.

I sank onto the bed Sophie had prepared for me, the exhaustion finally catching up. My muscles ached, and for the first time in a long while, I allowed myself to relax—just a little.

Across the room, Andy stretched out on a worn-out armchair, his face calm but still with a hint of worry, lost in thought. Sophie sat beside him, her hands resting on her lap, fidgeting with them she stared into the fire. There was something in her expression—nostalgia, maybe, or grief that never quite faded.

Kennedy, still hunched over his book, turned a page slowly. The firelight flickered over his face, sharpening the lines of his features. He was always so unreadable, so controlled. It irritated me how he could sit there like nothing had happened—like we weren’t running for our lives.

The warmth of the fire wrapped around us, but the silence stretched, thick and heavy. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but it wasn’t exactly peaceful either. Just… something in between. A fragile moment that could shatter at any second.

I pulled the blanket up over my shoulders, watching the fire flicker. My eyelids were heavy, my body aching from exhaustion, but my mind wouldn’t let me rest. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw flashes of the past—running, screaming, blood-stained hands, the feeling of breathless panic clawing up my throat.

I saw my mother…my mother that was infected. A mother who couldn’t take control and recognize it’s own child.

I swallowed hard, forcing my gaze toward Kennedy. He hadn’t moved from his chair, still flipping through his book at a slow pace. The firelight made the sharp angles of his face seem even more visible, his expression unreadable as ever. Sharp aquiline nose, those smooth bow shaped lips, and his skin…why does it look so goddamn healthy?

“You’re actually reading that thing?” I muttered, my voice barely above a whisper.

Kennedy didn’t look up. “What else would I be doing, short stick?”

I rolled my eyes. “I don’t know, maybe actually sleeping? Resting? Like a normal person?”

His lips twitched, but he didn’t respond immediately. Instead, he shut the book with a quiet thump and leaned back, stretching out his long legs. “Sleep isn’t something I can afford.”

I cringed, hugging my knees to my chest. “Why not?”

He didn’t answer, just stared into the fire, his fingers tapping lightly against the book’s cover. The silence that followed was heavier than before.

Andy let out a deep sigh, shifting in his chair. “Kid’s got a point, though. We all need rest while we can.”

Kennedy finally looked up, his cold gaze meeting Andy’s. “Rest makes you slow.” His voice was calm, but there was something sharp beneath it. “Slow people die.”

Andy raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue. He only exchanged a glance with Sophie, who frowned but said nothing.

“Idiot, really.” I pouted and turned away from him.

I could feel a cold gaze lingering on my, from behind. Shivers ran down my spine but I ignored it and went back to sleep.

“Sleep well, little baby.” He muttered in response.

The conversation died there.

I bit the inside of my cheek, my body was screaming for rest, but his words echoed in my head.

Rest makes you slow. Slow people die.