Xenia opened her knitted bag—handmade, sunflower patch included, courtesy of Brie—and pulled out the battle-worn map like it was a treasure scroll, even though it was more duct tape than paper at this point.
She squinted dramatically under the dimming light, muttering like a pirate who'd lost her compass. "Okay... Gabriel's base is here, near SilverMoon Cay. This forest's part of Theremis. Tiny zone. Cute name. Probably cursed."
She tapped the parchment with a stick for emphasis. "Tenorio, are you planning to Dora the Explorer this entire island?"
"That's the plan," Tenorio said without missing a beat, cinching his belt like he was prepping for war. "Did you recover already? Let's keep moving. This place doesn't look safe."
"Oh, you mean the creepy overgrown forest full of rotting screams and existential dread? Thanks for the update, sir," Xenia grumbled, legs still aching from what felt like a vertical marathon.
"Stop acting like a child, Xenia," Tenorio snapped. "Rest when we're safe."
"Right, because burnout is a concept invented by the undead," she muttered, dragging her feet with all the grace of a malfunctioning Roomba.
They kept walking. The canopy thickened above them, light shrinking like their optimism. Every crunch of twigs made Xenia flinch like a horror movie extra who knows she's not on the poster.
Then came the sound.
Low growls.
Wet. Inhuman. Way-too-close.
Three zombies stumbled out of the brush like VIP guests at her funeral—blood-soaked, skin molting like bad sunburn. And she? She was too winded to even scream properly.
"Strike the legs!" Xenia barked, despite the panic seizing her spine. "They're top-heavy. Like gym bros. Eyes if you can!"
Tenorio moved fast, machete slicing through a knee like it owed him money. Rafe followed, moving like a man who trained for this exact moment by chopping coconuts. The third zombie lunged at Xenia—and she froze.
But Rafe didn't. Crowbar. Skull. Crunch.
Xenia gagged.
"Okay," she huffed. "I vote we head back. Like... yesterday."
Tenorio said nothing. Just marched on like an emotionally repressed freight train.
"You guys suck," she muttered, shuffling behind them like the least enthusiastic bridesmaid at a horror wedding.
Then—something shiny.
A glint in the distance.
"Wait… is that a mansion? Like, full-on Scooby-Doo haunted estate vibes?" Xenia asked, blinking as vines curled up wrought iron gates. The structure beyond looked abandoned but… too intact. Like someone was trying too hard to say "I'm totally not cursed."
"If it's locked from the outside," she said, inspecting the gate, "that means someone locked it on purpose. Possibly to contain, oh I don't know, THE UNDEAD? Just a thought."
"Or someone bailed," Rafe shrugged. "Let's check it out."
Tenorio nodded grimly. Of course he did.
Xenia opened her mouth to protest—but the quiet whispered Maybe there's a bed inside, and her spine said fine.
And then?
Cue jump scare.
A zombie in a maid uniform lunged from behind, floral apron flapping like she was still on shift.
"XENIA!" Rafe shouted, crowbar smashing into her skull.
Zombie, not Xenia. (Thankfully.)
Xenia shrieked. "Oh cool, jump-scares and gender roles. My favorite!"
Before she could spiral harder, a sharp voice sliced through the air:
"Stop right there!"
A woman in a mud-streaked military uniform emerged from the trees, rifle raised like her finger was permanently glued to the trigger. Her hair was short, sweat-slicked, and her face said I haven't slept since pre-apocalypse.
"We're survivors!" Tenorio raised his hands.
"Why did you open the gate?" the woman barked.
Before anyone could explain, another zombie stumbled out of the shadows like it missed its cue.
Bang.
One clean shot.
And just like that—
Groans. Groans everywhere.
"Oh no," Xenia whispered. "You just rang the dinner bell."
"RUN!" Rafe screamed, yanking her back.
Zombies spilled from the mansion like a cursed clown car of flesh. Tenorio stayed near the front steps, swinging and slashing. Then—
Click.
His gun was empty.
And he was cornered.
And Tenorio—disciplined, proud Tenorio—turned the gun on himself.
One last breath.
One final decision.
Bang.
"Tenorio!!" Rafe's voice cracked, fury and grief blurring into a single sound.
The soldier—face pale with horror—ran. "We have to lock it again! NOW!"
Zombies were everywhere. Grabbing sleeves. Snapping teeth. Xenia froze.
"HELP HER!" Rafe screamed.
Xenia snapped into action, shoulder-slamming the gate with a scream she didn't know she had. Rafe hacked at groping hands with clean, brutal fury. Together, they shoved the bolt in place.
Silence returned like a gut punch.
"You—this is YOUR fault!" Rafe turned on the woman.
"If you hadn't opened the gate—"
"You shot a gun in zombie Disneyland!"
"Enough!" Xenia yelled. Her voice cracked. "Tenorio's dead. Don't make it worse."
The woman's fury dulled into regret. "I'm… sorry. That mansion—it was the birthday estate of the town chief. Hundreds of guests. It turned fast. I was stationed there. I… I locked them inside."
They stared at her.
Xenia swallowed hard. "So... you were the last one out."
The woman nodded. "Name's Thalia. I'm a local soldier."
Rafe was still seething. "So what now?"
"You have a camp?" Thalia asked.
"We did," Xenia muttered. "We do. We were looking for survivors, gear, maybe a car. Tenorio believed in building forward. Now… we're just three."
"I have a shelter nearby. Follow me."
They moved fast, grief still dripping off their skin. Two minutes later, they reached a towering tree, almost fairytale-level hidden. Thalia climbed first, helped them up.
It was a treehouse—yes, a literal apocalypse treehouse, made from scrap wood, canvas, and genius desperation. There was even a camp stove. Canned food. Order. Sanity.
And in the corner?
A child.
About seven. Wrapped in wool, blinking wide blue eyes.
"My son, Tyrone," Thalia said, finally soft. "We've been here since day one."
"Nice to meet you both," Xenia said automatically, exhausted. "I'm Xenia. That's Rafe."
"Are they good?" Tyrone whispered.
"They lost someone brave today," Thalia said gently.
Rafe dropped his bag, slumped onto the floor like gravity finally caught up. "We were hoping to save lives... now we're just trying to survive again."
"Sit," Thalia offered. "Have some tea. It's... calming."
And they did. They sat on that floor, surrounded by leaves and wind, trauma and silence. No groans. No screams. Just a weirdly comforting stillness.
Xenia sipped the bitter tea and stared at the stars through the wooden slats.
"Do you think Tenorio made it somewhere?" she asked quietly.
Rafe nodded once. "Wherever brave people go."
And for a flickering moment—
She hoped he was out there.
Still watching.
Still guiding.
From a distance.
In peace.