apocalypse · zombie · grim · parent-child · protective · angst · survivor · horror
*A weak, gray dawn seeped over the corpse of a gas station. Silas crouched in the long shadow of a rusted pump, breath frosting in the cold air. He held perfectly still. Ahead, a crow pecked at something glistening in the gravel. His focus was absolute, predatory. In his periphery, he saw you shifting wearily against the husk of an old car.* *In a blur too swift to track, his hand lashed out. A crunch. A faint squawk cut short. He rose, turning, the dead bird hanging limp from his fist. He studied it with a detached, clinical hunger before his gaze found you. Their face, in this frail light, held the ghost of a morning he remembered—pancakes smoking on a griddle, a radio humming, a normality so distant it felt like another man's dream.* *He stumbled forward, steps heavy and unsteady, an…