Surviving the Apocalypse With My Yandere Ex-Girlfriend-Chapter 140: Nothing to look back to

The route Aubrey was taking had given them both the creeps.

Even from here, they could see the smoke rising in thick, black columns. Fires burned in uneven patches across what used to be the Amber Society’s territory.

"I...don’t think we’ll be able to find any clues there," Isabella muttered.

Aubrey didn’t look at her.

"Well, it’s our one and only lead. The last place we’d know Adrian and Lila would be... but from the looks of it—"

"AUBREY—!!"

The scream tore through the car.

Aubrey’s head snapped toward the mirror just in time to see it.

A truck. Close. Too close.

Red eyes glowing through the cracked windshield.

"Shit—!"

She yanked the wheel.

The car spun sideways, tires screaming against the road before grinding to a halt.

For half a second, there was silence.

Both of them breathing hard.

Then the truck slammed into them.

Metal crushed inward with a deafening crunch. The side door caved in, glass exploding across the car. Aubrey’s head snapped hard against the window, pain bursting behind her eyes as something warm ran down her face.

Isabella cried out beside her, her shoulder taking the worst of the impact as she was thrown against the door.

"Move—!" Aubrey choked out, dazed.

The truck reversed.

Then rammed them again.

The second hit bent the frame. The door on Isabella’s side folded inward, pinning her partially in place.

"Aubrey—!" she gasped, panic breaking through her voice.

Aubrey forced her vision to steady. Her ears rang, but she could still hear it.

Laughter.

Wet. Unstable. Wrong.

Through the cracked windshield, figures started piling out of the truck.

Their movements were jerky, eager. Blood smeared across their clothes. Their eyes burned red in the firelight behind them.

"Infected..." Isabella whispered.

"No shit," Aubrey muttered, already moving.

She kicked her door open with force, the hinges screaming before giving way. Cold air rushed in, thick with smoke and the smell of something burning that wasn’t just wood.

She stumbled out, her leg shaking for a second before holding.

Behind her, Isabella struggled.

"I’m stuck—!" she said, her voice tight with fear.

Aubrey turned.

The infected were already closing in.

One of them sprinted forward faster than the rest, dropping to all fours for a moment before launching itself at the car.

Aubrey grabbed her gun and fired.

The shot cracked through the air. The bullet tore through its face, snapping its head back as it dropped mid-lunge.

"Hold on!" Aubrey shouted, rushing to Isabella’s side.

She grabbed the bent metal of the door and pulled.

It didn’t move.

"Fuck—!"

Another one slammed into the hood, denting it with a sickening thud. Its mouth hung open, strings of saliva and blood dripping as it clawed forward.

Aubrey fired again.

Its jaw shattered, but it kept moving.

"Move, damn it—!" Aubrey snarled, planting her foot against the frame and pulling harder.

The metal groaned.

Isabella screamed as it shifted, tearing fabric—and skin—with it.

The door finally gave just enough.

Aubrey grabbed her and yanked her free.

They both fell hard onto the asphalt.

"Run!" Aubrey snapped.

They scrambled to their feet.

The infected were everywhere now.

More pouring out of the truck. More coming from the sides of the road, drawn by the noise.

One grabbed Isabella’s arm.

She screamed.

Aubrey turned and slammed the butt of her gun into its face. Bone cracked. It didn’t let go.

She shot it point blank.

Its grip loosened just enough for Isabella to rip free, leaving skin behind in its nails.

They ran.

Gunshots echoed behind them as Aubrey fired blindly over her shoulder. One dropped. Then another.

But it didn’t matter.

There were too many.

They reached the edge of the road, stumbling into a ditch and pushing through overgrown grass and debris.

Aubrey grabbed Isabella’s hand and dragged her forward when she slowed.

"Don’t stop!" she barked.

"I’m trying—!" Isabella gasped, her breathing uneven, her injured arm hanging uselessly at her side.

Behind them, the sounds didn’t stop.

Feet pounding.

Laughing.

Screaming.

Somewhere in the distance, something else joined in. Louder. Deeper.

More were coming.

They didn’t look back again.

They ran until their legs threatened to give out, until the sounds finally started to fade into the distance.

When they finally stopped, it wasn’t by choice.

They collapsed behind the shell of an abandoned building, both of them gasping for air.

Aubrey wiped the blood from her face, her hands shaking.

Isabella leaned against the wall, clutching her arm, her face pale.

For a moment, neither of them spoke.

Then Isabella looked back in the direction they came from.

Smoke still rose into the sky. 𝑓𝓇𝘦ℯ𝘸𝘦𝑏𝓃𝑜𝘷ℯ𝑙.𝑐𝑜𝓂

Fires still burned.

And faintly, even from here, the chaos hadn’t stopped.

"...it’s gone," she said quietly.

Aubrey didn’t answer right away.

Her eyes stayed fixed on the horizon.

On the place where everything had just fallen apart.

"Yeah," she finally said, her voice flat.

"Amber Society’s done."

Another distant scream carried through the air.

Aubrey exhaled slowly.

"...and Chicago’s next."

And in that, something in Isabella’s chest twisted.

She knew now. They both did.

Finding a way to that safe haven seemed all the more imperative now.

—

I stared at her for a moment, dumbfounded.

The gun barrel stayed fixed on my face, steady enough to remind me not to take another step.

"What the f—"

I didn’t finish it.

Her eyes shifted past me.

"Shit—"

She shoved me hard in the chest. I stumbled back as she moved past me, quick and sharp, like I wasn’t even there.

She stomped the lighter out before the flame could spread any further along the wood. The small fire died under her boot with a hiss.

Her chest rose and fell as she caught her breath.

For a moment, neither of us spoke.

Then her eyes dropped to the floor.

"...was that brandy yours?"

She looked at the bottle. Then at me.

I didn’t say anything.

She already knew.

The gun came back up.

"Carter."

"You look well," I said.

"Oh, do I?"

Her expression twisted.

"Well you don’t. Fuck you."

I flinched, just slightly, but held my ground.

"You come in here," she went on, voice rising, "finish my fucking brandy, have some freak break through my door, and almost set fire to the one place keeping me alive. You think I’m happy to see you???"

I let her talk.

My eyes moved around the cabin instead.

Same cramped space. Same smell of old wood and something rotting underneath it.

Different energy.

She noticed.

"...where’s Samuel?" I asked. "He around?"

Her face changed.

Not anger.

Something heavier.

I felt it immediately.

"Get out," she said.

"What?"

"LEAVE!" she snapped, her voice breaking through the cabin. "Before I shoot you in that brandy-covered leg!"

I frowned.

"...are you drunk?"

Her grip tightened on the gun.

"...look, Naomi," I said, keeping my voice even, "I’m sorry if I offended you, and I know we didn’t have the greatest past, but—"

I took a step forward.

She took one back.

The gun lifted again, aimed right between my eyes.

I stopped.

"We can help each other," I said.

"You can’t help me for shit," she shot back immediately.

Her voice sharpened, cutting through whatever calm I was trying to keep.

"All you ever do is fuck things up wherever you go. Since the first time you and your sick group came to our camp in St. Louis and made—"

"They’re dead, Naomi."

I didn’t raise my voice.

I didn’t need to.

The words landed anyway.

Her eyes widened.

"All of them?" she asked.

I didn’t answer right away.

I just looked at her.

That was enough.

"Even the crazy blonde one?"

"Yes."

Silence filled the room.

It stretched.

Then she laughed.

It came out wrong.

Too loud. Too sudden.

She bent forward, one hand on her stomach as if she couldn’t hold it in.

I didn’t move.

Didn’t react.

I just watched.

After a few seconds, she straightened, wiping at her eye like she’d actually found it funny.

"So now you finally know what it feels like, huh?" she said, a smile still stuck on her face.

I didn’t respond.

"To watch everyone around you get fucking slaughtered."

Her tone dropped.

Heavier now.

More real.

"I’m curious, though," she continued. "How’d they die? How’d you find out? Was it painful?"

"Are you done?" I asked.

My voice came out sharper than I meant it to.

"...actually, no. No I’m not."

She paused for a second, like she was sorting through everything she wanted to throw at me.

Then it hit.

"Where’s Hailey???"

"I don’t know," I said. "Dead too, probably."

"Vivian??"

"Why the fuck do you care?"

She went quiet.

Really quiet.

Her eyes stayed on me for a second longer.

Then she lowered the gun.

Slowly.

She shoved it back into her pocket like it weighed nothing.

"To make sure no more demons from my past end up haunting me," she said.

Her gaze didn’t leave me when she said it.

Like I was at the top of that list.

She walked past me without another word and dropped onto the couch.

The springs creaked under her weight.

She leaned forward, digging through her pocket before pulling out a cigarette and a small box of matches.

Her hands weren’t shaking.

That surprised me.

She struck the match, lit the cigarette, and took a long drag before leaning back.

Smoke filled the space between us.

For a while, she didn’t look at me.

Then she did.

Her eyes narrowed slightly.

"What’s your deal anyway?"