Surviving the Apocalypse With My Yandere Ex-Girlfriend-Chapter 107: How it was always meant to be

"Hey, fuck you, man! I didn’t ask for any of that shit!"

My voice echoed down the alley Damien and his crew dragged me into. Water dripped from a broken pipe above us. Slow. Steady. Each drop hit the pavement like a countdown.

Damien looked at me and scoffed.

"You know Kenny got a year, right? His life’s screwed right now. And you just walk away like nothing happened."

"No one told him to sniff cocaine at one-thirty in the morning on a school night," I shot back. "That’s not my problem."

I tried to step past him. Someone shoved me back hard. My heart kicked into overdrive.

Anxiety pressed into me from all sides.

"Hey, man, where are you going?" Damien asked, tilting his head.

I stared at him. "Home."

"Don’t be a dick. Let’s talk."

I glanced around. Thirteen of them. Pipes resting on shoulders. Bats tapping against palms. One guy flipping a knife open and shut. Another cracking his knuckles like he was warming up.

Something cracked in my head that night. Not a sound. Just a shift.

"Question, Carter," Damien said. "Was it your dad who bailed you out that night? Or your slut girlfriend’s mom?"

Before I could answer, I heard something cut through the air behind me. I ducked on instinct. A metal pipe whooshed past my head. I swung at the first face I saw and felt my fist connect.

It didn’t matter.

There were too many of them.

They grabbed my arms. Locked them in place. Someone kicked the back of my knee and I dropped.

"You wanna know something, Carter?" Damien said.

He drove his fist into my stomach. The air left my lungs. I tasted blood.

"The funniest part about hanging around a bunch of douchebags is that you never get to pretend you’re above it."

Another punch to my gut.

I screamed.

"Ever."

Another hit. Then another. My body folded in on itself. My ears rang. The dripping water mixed with their laughter.

It almost felt real for a moment.

Almost.

—

I jerked awake so hard my head nearly hit the car ceiling.

The low hum of an engine steadied me. It was dark. I heard tires crunch over gravel.

Lila sat in the front seat, humming to herself. Some soft, off-key tune.

She glanced back at me with a small smile.

"Nightmares, sweetie?"

I didn’t answer. I just sat there, chest heaving, still feeling the ghost of fists that weren’t there.

Lila frowned when she noticed I hadn’t said a word in miles. I kept my eyes on the window, watching the trees blur past.

"Right here is fine," I muttered.

The tires crunched over gravel and rolled to a stop. The engine kept running.

I unbuckled my seatbelt. She did the same.

I looked at her, almost confused. "You don’t have to come out with me."

"I don’t know what’s out there, Adrian. Neither do you," she said.

I frowned but didn’t argue.

"Make it quick," she added after a second.

I stepped into the trees. The air smelled damp and cold. I started picking up twigs. Thin ones. Thick ones. Anything that would hold shape. I grabbed stones too, the flatter ones, the ones that didn’t crumble in my hands. I didn’t know why I cared what they looked like, but I did.

I found a small clearing and knelt down.

I pressed sticks into the dirt, crossing them. I stacked stones around the base so they wouldn’t fall. I did it again a few feet away.

Mark.

Agnes.

The names sat heavy in my chest.

After what felt like an hour, I leaned back on my heels and looked at what I’d made.

Two crooked piles of wood and rock.

They were bad. Uneven. Pathetic.

"Damn it," I muttered.

I should’ve grabbed something of theirs. A necklace. A jacket. Anything.

My fists tightened. I felt my throat close as flashes tried to force their way back into my head. The blood. The screaming. The way it ended so fast.

I wasn’t even sure if Agnes died in the first place. I never saw with my own 2 eyes.

I wasn’t stupid, though.

A hand brushed my arm.

My fists loosened.

Lila stepped in close behind me. Her fingers slid between mine and held tight. She rested her head against my shoulder and wrapped her other arm around my waist.

"Come on," she said softly. "Let’s go, my love. They’re in a better place now."

I didn’t answer.

She tugged my hand gently and led me back toward the car. I followed, but I never looked away.

Not until it was far enough that I couldn’t.

—

Aubrey leaned against the wall adjacent to a doorway. A pocketknife clicked open and shut in her hand. Over and over. She stared at the stained, sagging ceiling tiles, counting the seconds in her head.

Inside the office, drawers scraped open. Metal clanged. Papers hit the floor.

Isabella wasn’t being quiet about it.

Aubrey felt the urge to slam her fist against the door and tell her to keep it down. Every crash made her jaw tighten. But she stayed where she was. Starting another fight wouldn’t help. Not now.

The rummaging stopped.

A few seconds later, Isabella stepped out of the room. Dust clung to her sleeves. Her hair was a mess.

Aubrey looked up at her. "No dice?"

Isabella shook her head. She just bent down, picked up her duffle bag, and started walking down the hallway like Aubrey was already behind her.

"We’ll just search the next medical facility we see," she said.

Her steps were quick. Uneven. Too quick.

Aubrey pushed off the wall and closed the pocketknife with a snap before sliding it into her pocket. She followed.

"You even know what you’re looking for?" Aubrey asked.

"ACE inhibitors."

Aubrey frowned. "What?"

"For hypertension," Isabella said, not slowing down. "It lowers blood pressure. Helps prevent strokes. Heart attacks." Her voice wavered just a little. "My dad’s been rationing what he has left."

Aubrey stared at the back of her head. "Oh."

They walked a few more steps.

"I... still don’t get it," Aubrey admitted.

Isabella let out a tired breath. "It’s what Terri said, anyway. I can’t repeat it word for word. I just know it’s important."

They reached the end of the hallway. Another dark exit. Another empty building.

Aubrey moved ahead this time and pushed the door open, scanning outside before stepping through.

They walked along the sidewalk, boots scraping against loose gravel. The street was quiet except for the wind pushing trash across the pavement.

"Look, um... about the conversation we had before—" Aubrey started.

Isabella kept walking.

"I’m sorta regretting leaving him now."

Isabella stopped and turned to face her. "So what? You want to turn back and look for them?"

"No—" Aubrey snapped too quickly.

Isabella frowned.

A second passed.

"Well... yes. I don’t know," Aubrey admitted, dragging a hand over her face. "It’s just hard for me to do that after what happened. You know?"

"I understand that," Isabella said.

They stood there for a moment, the space between them tight.

"I didn’t mean to pry into you guys’ relationship," Isabella added. "I’ve had enough girlfriends in my lifetime to recognize toxic when I see it."

"Girlfri—..." Aubrey’s eyes widened. She blinked.

Reality hit her like a freight train.

"That...kinda explains a whole lot."

Isabella’s eyes narrowed slightly. "That’s besides the point. And hardly your business."

Aubrey raised her hands a little. "I didn’t mean it like that."

Isabella held her stare for a second longer, then turned and started walking again.

"You need to figure out what you actually want," she said over her shoulder. "Because if you don’t, the world’s gonna decide for you."

Aubrey stood there, jaw tight.

Then she hurried to catch up, the words replaying in her head with every step.

—

A man lay flat on his stomach on the floor to a rooftop, a hunting sniper steady in his hand. Through the scope, he saw something that made his lips twitch upward.

"What do you see?" Someone behind him muttered.

"A car. Looks like there’s 2 people in it. Coming this way."

"One of Annie’s?"

"I ain’t seen their faces yet."

Through the scope, he saw them park. His trigger finger twitched as they stepped out.

Dirty blonde hair. A tanned brunette. Both around the same height.

"What do you see now?"

"They ain’t one of Annie’s." He said simply.

"Nah, I’d say more like dinner."

The man behind him smiled at that, lips quivering.

"Fleshers, huh? Around these parts?"

A beat.

"I reckon it’s one of them that escaped Annie the other day."

The scope followed them as they walked.

The man holding the gun steadied his breath.

"What you waiting for? Shoot ’em."

He was about to.

But then his whole world froze.

The woman with the dirty blonde hair turned her head towards him. Her eyes met his through the scope. Cold. Unflinching. A glint of red in the corner of her iris.

His nerves went haywire as he tried to keep the scope steady.

"No fucking way..."