Apocalypse Days: I Rule with Foresight and a Powerful Son
Chapter 129

Chapter 129: 129

Winter hit the ground hard, a choked sound escaping him as the thing latched onto his chest.

Zara’s knife was in her hand. "Winter!"

The creature—if it could even be called that—was a mess of twisted limbs, its skin stretched taut over sinewy muscles. Its head, if it had one, was obscured by a mass of writhing tendrils, moving like feelers as if searching for something.

Winter barely managed to get his rifle between them, using it to hold the creature back as its clawed fingers raked at his vest, inches from his throat.

"Get the fuck off me!" he snarled, muscles straining.

The thing was fast, unnaturally so. It moved with jerky, twitching motions, its bony limbs snapping into place like a puppet on strings. Its mouth—too wide, filled with jagged, uneven teeth—gaped open, wheezing.

Zara lunged, aiming for its side, but the creature moved too fast. It jerked unnaturally, twisting around without even getting off Winter, its tendrils twitching as if sensing her presence.

She swung her knife anyway, slashing deep into its back. The blade sank into flesh with a sickening squelch, but it didn’t scream—just twisted unnaturally, too many joints bending in the wrong direction. Winter struggled beneath it, snarling as he jammed his elbow into its torso, trying to break free.

Zara yanked the knife free and drove it in again, this time aiming for its throat—if it even had one.

The creature let out a low, shuddering hiss, something between a dying gasp and an insect’s chitter. Then it jerked away from Winter and turned on her.

Her stomach turned to ice.

Winter didn’t waste the opening. He used the moment to shove it off. It skidded across the floor, clawing at the metal, scrambling back onto its too-long limbs.

"Shit, that thing’s fast," Zara panted, trying to position herself between it and Leo.

Winter rolled to his knees, raising his rifle. The second his finger pulled the trigger, the gunshot ripped through the silence.

The creature jerked backward.

Then it kept moving.

"Fuck—"

It latched onto Winter’s side with hooked fingers and sank its teeth into him.

Winter roared in pain.

"Winter!" Zara’s voice was distant, drowned out by the white-hot agony flooding his senses.

Fuck, winter’s body spasmed as he tried to reach for his rifle.

The creature’s grip tightened as it gnawed, its jagged teeth grinding against muscle. A garbled, wet growl rumbled from its throat, like it was savoring the taste.

A shadow came from the side and it took winter a few worrying seconds to realize that it was Zara.

With one hand bracing Leo, she grabbed her knife and lunged. She plunged the blade into the thing’s throat.

It shrieked, its grip loosening for just a second. That was all Winter needed.

Gritting his teeth against the pain, he shoved his rifle between them and pulled the trigger point-blank.

The thing’s skull exploded.

Winter shoved it off, rolling onto his side, his hand clamping over the wound in his abdomen. Blood seeped between his fingers.

Zara was on him in an instant, knife still clutched tight in her hand. "Fuck—Winter—" She grabbed his arm, eyes widening at the torn fabric, the blood seeping through. "Shit. It bit you."

Winter swayed slightly, the edges of his vision blurring. He forced a smirk, but it was weak. "Guess I’m gonna need a tetanus shot."

Zara’s glare could’ve melted steel. "Not fucking funny."

"I’m fine," Winter gritted out. His face was tight with pain, sweat forming at his temple.

"No, you’re bleeding—"

"We don’t have time for this." He forced himself up, staggering slightly. "We need to move before another one of those things shows up."

Zara wanted to argue, but she bit it back. He was right.

She tore a strip of fabric from her make shift harness for Leo pressing it hard against the wound, trying to slow the bleeding. Winter hissed through his teeth but didn’t pull away.

Zara gritted her teeth, pressing down harder on the injury and wrapping it up.

Leo sniffled against her chest, shaken but unharmed. She squeezed him lightly before gripping Winter’s arm, steadying him. "Come on. One step at a time."

They continued forward.

By the time they reached the final corridor, the smell of burning flesh filled the air, thick enough to subtly filter through their masks.

Somehow they managed to get past the hallway leading to the safe rooms. The announcements continued to blare as the lights flickered. Zara tried not to think about how Winter was slowly leaning against her.

She just had to keep going, get them both to safety. " You still with me?" she asked.

Winter grunted something that sounded like a yes but she couldn’t be sure.

Outside the reinforced doors of the safe room, the military was clearing the infected with flamethrowers.

Zara coughed, eyes stinging as they moved out of the way.

Zombies, mindless and rabid, were ripping into their own kind.

The mist was everywhere, seeping into the cracks of the ruined building. It rolled over the dead, twisting flesh, mutating bodies into grotesque new forms.

The military was sealing off the breaches with heavy blast doors. The reinforced steel slammed shut, cutting off entire sections of the facility. Any poor bastard left behind would never make it out.

"Move, move, move!" Soldiers ushered them forward. "Get inside!"

Winter stumbled, blood dripping from his wound, but he refused to fall.

Zara didn’t let him slow down. She dragged him if she had to.

They barely made it inside before the last lockdown door was sealed behind them.

A second later—

The building section they had just passed collapsed.

The sound was deafening. Metal twisted, stone crumbled, and an entire section of the base caved in.

Zara turned, panting, watching the hellscape disappear beneath a cloud of dust and fire.

They had made it.

Barely.

"Stop! Identify yourselves!" one of the soldiers further back snarled, levelling his flamethrower at them.

Zara barely registered the order. Her heart was pounding, her arms shaking from the effort of keeping both Leo secure against her chest and Winter upright. The weight of him pressed into her, heavier with every sluggish step he took. He was bleeding too much. Too fast.

And this idiot was pointing a weapon at her.

She snapped.

"Who the fuck do you think we are?!" she shrieked, her voice raw with exhaustion and panic. "I need help! He’s hurt, I have a toddler with me, and if you so much as—Put that fucking thing down before you burn us alive!"

The soldier took an instinctive step back, momentarily stunned by the sheer force of her desperation. Then, as if realizing she wasn’t some feral infected, he blinked and quickly lowered his weapon.

"Shit—okay, okay! Calm down!" He quickly slung his weapon over his shoulder and stepped forward, hands raised in a placating gesture. "I didn’t know—Jesus, you’re civilians?" His eyes flickered to Winter, slumped heavily against Zara, and then to the small child strapped to her chest. "Fuck. Here—let me help."

Without waiting for permission, he moved to Winter’s other side, taking some of his weight. "We’ve got a med team up ahead. Just hold on."

Zara was still breathing hard, adrenaline surging in her veins, but she let him take over, her arms screaming in relief as some of the burden lifted.

The safe room was massive—larger than she expected—lined with rows of cots pushed against the walls, each one occupied by people in varying states of distress. Some were injured, bandages hastily wrapped around wounds, while others sat in wide-eyed silence, their faces pale with shock. The air was thick with the scent of antiseptic, sweat, and lingering fear. Murmured conversations, quiet sobs, and the occasional groan of pain filled the space.

Zara barely noticed any of it.

Her entire focus was on Winter and Leo.

Medical personnel rushed them.

She barely registered the moment they stepped fully inside, barely noticed the rush of bodies around them—until someone pulled at her mask.

Her first instinct was to slap their hands away, but then she realized—the air was clean. No mist. No threat.

She ripped the mask off herself, gasping in fresh air as her lungs burned from exertion.

"He’s injured," Zara snapped, refusing to let them overlook Winter’s wound. "Treat him first!"

"I’m fine," Winter growled, but he was pale, sweat-drenched, and very much not fine.

Zara shoved him onto the nearest cot. "You’re sitting your ass down and getting stitched up. No arguments."

He huffed but let himself be lowered onto the thin mattress, his breath coming short and sharp. His hand hovered over his side, blood still seeping between his fingers.

One of the medics, a harried-looking woman in fatigues, pressed into action. "Let’s get that shirt off. We need to clean the wound—"

Zara forced herself to breathe, to calm down, but every nerve in her body still screamed for fight or flight. Her hands trembled as she smoothed them over Leo’s back.

She needed to see him, really see him.

With unsteady fingers, she reached up and unfastened the straps of his tiny mask, carefully lifting it away. His flushed face was damp with sweat, his dark eyes round and frightened. His lower lip wobbled, but he didn’t cry.

Zara let out a shaky breath. "You did so good, baby. It’s okay now." She pressed a firm kiss to his forehead, her heart aching at how small he felt in her arms.

She checked him over, running her hands gently over his arms, his tiny ribs, and his legs. No bruises. No wounds. Just the same grime, sweat, and exhaustion that clung to all of them. Relief hit her so hard that her knees buckled, and she slumped onto the ground beside Winter’s cot, her body giving out.

She squeezed her eyes shut. They were safe—for now.

Or so she hoped.

The medics moved quickly around them, assessing injuries, stabilizing the wounded. One of them—a tall man with sharp features and a bloodstained uniform—crouched near her. "Ma’am, is the child injured?"

Leo whimpered at the stranger’s proximity, curling deeper into Zara’s embrace. His little fingers gripped her shirt so tightly it almost hurt.

"No," Zara snapped, sharper than she intended. The medic’s eyes flickered in surprise. He hesitated, but Leo let out another small, frightened sound, and the man backed off, lifting his hands in a placating gesture.

"Alright. Just making sure." His voice was careful, as if trying not to startle her further.

Zara loosened her grip on Leo just enough to stroke his hair, grounding both of them. "He’s fine." Her voice was hoarse, her throat raw. "He just needs rest."

Hell, they all did.