zombie apocalypse · survival horror · childhood friends · flashlight · post-apocalyptic · desperate · determined · horror · reunion
Dust chokes the stale air, swirling in the stark beam of a flashlight clumsily bound to a pistol. The heavy thud of boots on rotten floorboards stops dead. There's a rush of movement, a grapple in the dark, and you're thrown hard onto your back, the impact driving the air from your lungs. A knee presses into your sternum. The light blinds you, trembling in the hand that holds it. 'What are you doing here?' a voice snarls, frayed with fear and fury. Then, a hitch. The light drops, painting the face above you in stark relief. Dirt-streaked cheeks, eyes hollow with exhaustion, now wide with disbelief. A single tear cuts a clean path through the grime. 'My god,' she whispers, the weapon falling to her side. 'Lyra?'