Chapter 30: The Man Beside the Monster

Elsa couldn’t sleep.

The sofa was uncomfortable, the apartment smelled faintly of dust and dried blood, and every sound from the corridor made her wonder whether someone was about to break through the door.

She turned onto her side and pulled the blanket closer.

She turned onto her side and pulled the blanket closer.

The cabinet Zarek had shoved against the entrance offered little protection, but anyone trying to get inside would have to move it first.

That should have reassured her.

It didn’t.

Her eyes drifted toward the hallway leading to the bedrooms.

Three bodies lay in one of them.

She squeezed her eyes shut, but the image remained. Two adults and a smaller figure beneath a blanket.

Whoever they had been, they had died in their own home, surrounded by the ordinary things they’d probably expected to use again.

Folded clothes. Slippers. An open book.

She wondered how long they had been there before someone discovered them.

Then she remembered Zarek’s response when she’d asked about the bodies.

And they’re doing a wonderful job of staying dead.

Her stomach tightened.

How could anyone talk like that?

She knew the world had changed. She had seen people die, watched monsters tear through the streets, and learned how quickly a moment of hesitation could get someone killed.

But those bodies had bothered her in a way she couldn’t explain. They hadn’t been soldiers or strangers caught in a fight. They had been people who’d gone to bed in their own apartment, never knowing they wouldn’t wake up.

She rolled onto her back.

Before all this, she’d never worried about finding somewhere safe to sleep. If she was thirsty, she could get a drink. If she felt ill, she could seek help. Even when life was difficult, tomorrow had usually been something she could count on.

Now she had to think about every bottle of water, every door, and every unfamiliar noise.

She missed the old world.

Not because it had been perfect, but because she’d never understood how much of her life depended on things she had barely noticed.

A simple, locked door had once meant privacy.

Now it meant little more than a few extra seconds.

Her fingers brushed the pry bar beside the sofa.

She remembered the first mutant she’d fought. The creature had lunged at her, and she’d barely managed to strike it. Her hands shook so badly that she couldn’t hold the weapon properly afterward.

She’d been terrified.

Even now, she could remember the feeling of its body jerking when the metal struck. But she’d survived.

The next time, she’d been faster. Not good, not even close, but better.

That was something.

For a moment,she felt a small flicker of pride. She had spent most of her life being an ordinary woman who knew nothing about fighting. Now she could hold a weapon, recognize an opening, and strike when she had to.

Then she remembered why she’d learned.

Zarek had thrown her into danger because he wanted to see whether she could handle it.

He hadn’t trained her out of kindness. He wanted her to become useful.

The thought killed her pride almost immediately.

She turned her head toward the closed bedroom door.

Zarek had given her food and water when she’d been too exhausted to look after herself. He had taught her how to fight, and his decisions had kept them alive more than once.

She couldn’t deny any of that.

But she couldn’t forget the rest, either.

He had taken advantage of her desperation when she had nowhere else to turn. He had threatened her because he knew the world outside was worse than anything he could offer.

And when Vance had become inconvenient, Zarek had killed him without even giving him a chance to argue.

There was no kindness hidden beneath those actions. Elsa had searched for it once or twice, hoping there might be something in him she could understand.

She was beginning to think there wasn’t.

Yet she was alive.

That was the part she hated most.

For now, staying with him was safer than facing the city alone. He had food, a weapon, and the experience she lacked.

But that safety came at a price, and she had no idea how much higher it might become.

She picked up the pry bar and held it against her chest.

If I ever get the chance to survive without him, I’ll take it.

The thought came easily.

What frightened her was the possibility that, by the time that chance arrived, she might no longer know how to live without him.

She stared into the darkness until her eyes grew heavy.

Sleep came slowly.

Even then, she kept the weapon within reach.

Ayesha wasn’t trying to sleep.

She sat beside the window with her empty rifle across her lap, watching the ruined street below.

The glass was intact, but dust covered the sill. Beyond it, the city looked lifeless beneath the dim night sky. A few distant fires still burned, their light barely reaching the building.

She’d been staring outside for several minutes without really seeing anything.

Her thoughts kept returning to Harun.

He had been stubborn, sometimes irritatingly so, but he’d tried to protect her. When Cole’s men threatened the store, he stood his ground even when he knew he was outmatched.

He’d been trying to buy her a chance to survive.

Instead, Zarek killed him before she could do anything to help.

Her fingers tightened around the rifle’s stock.

She could still remember Harun’s warning. He’d told her not to trust Zarek, and she’d listened. She’d seen the danger in the man’s eyes long before he killed Harun.

But she’d gone with him anyway.

That decision still hurt.

Part of her wanted to believe she’d had no choice. It would have been easier to blame Zarek entirely, to tell herself that she’d simply been forced into following him.

The truth was less comfortable.

She had chosen to live.

Cole and his men were still out there. The city was full of mutants, and she had no reliable route to safety. Her ammunition was gone, her supplies were limited, and she couldn’t protect herself indefinitely.

Zarek had offered a way forward.

It was a terrible bargain, but it was a bargain she had accepted.

Before the apocalypse, she had made her own decisions. She could decide where to go, whom to trust, and what risks were worth taking. Her plans might not always have worked, but they had been hers.

Now every choice seemed to come with a price.

Stay alone and risk being killed.

Follow Zarek and risk becoming dependent on a man who saw other people as things he could use.

She hated that the second option made more sense.

She glanced toward the bedroom where Zarek was resting.

He had killed Harun without hesitation. He had killed Vance just as casually. She had watched him threaten people, take what he wanted, and treat danger as though it were an inconvenience rather than something that could end his life.

There was something deeply unsettling about how little he seemed to care.

Most people she’d encountered since the collapse were frightened, desperate, or both. Even the dangerous ones had limits. They hesitated when a fight might cost them too much. They worried about losing what little they had.

Zarek was different.

He could be patient when it suited him, brutal when he chose, and almost amused when someone threatened him.

She didn’t know whether he was always like this or whether the apocalypse had simply given him room to act without consequences.

Either possibility was frightening.

She also remembered how he had killed Cole’s men at the store. He hadn’t done it to rescue her. He wanted the weapons, and the men had stood in his way.

She had benefited from his decision, but that didn’t make it an act of kindness.

That was the lesson she needed to remember.

Being saved by Zarek didn’t mean he cared whether she lived.

He had his reasons for keeping her around. She intended to find out what they were.

Until then, she would cooperate when necessary, watch for weaknesses, and learn everything she could about the man who had taken her in.

She couldn’t beat him now. That didn’t mean she had to remain powerless forever.

For the moment, she would keep her anger to herself and wait for a better opportunity.

Cooperation was a means of survival. Nothing more.

She lowered the rifle onto her knees and rubbed her tired eyes.

She wanted to leave this building and find somewhere she could sleep without wondering whether the person beside her might kill her.

Most of all, she wanted her choices back.

For now, none of those things was within reach.

She looked toward Zarek’s bedroom one last time.

I’ll survive beside you.

Her jaw tightened.

But I’ll never forget what you did.

The apartment settled into silence.

Elsa lay on the sofa with the pry bar beside her. Ayesha remained by the window, keeping watch over a street that offered no answers.

They had different reasons to fear the man sleeping in the next room.

Elsa feared what staying with him might turn her into.

Ayesha feared how much of herself she might have to sacrifice to survive beside him.

Neither woman knew what the next day would bring. The men who had demanded rent might return with more people. The city beyond the window was still full of things they couldn’t understand, and their supplies wouldn’t last forever.

For tonight, there was a roof over their heads and a barricade at the door.

Then footsteps sounded in the corridor.

Elsa sat up, reaching for the pry bar.

Ayesha lifted her head and gripped the rifle.

The steps approached their apartment.

Stopped.

Neither woman moved.

A few seconds passed before the footsteps continued down the hallway and faded into the distance.

Elsa slowly let out the breath she’d been holding. Ayesha waited a little longer before lowering her rifle.

Neither called for Zarek.

They had survived another night, but neither mistook that for safety.

For now, all they could do was wait for morning.