Surviving the Apocalypse With My Yandere Ex-Girlfriend-Chapter 147: A ticking time bomb

Harry pressed the pack of frozen meat harder against his bruised eye, wincing slightly as the cold sank into the swelling. His other eye stayed fixed on his mother across the tent.

Neither of them spoke for a while.

The lantern hanging above them swayed faintly, casting uneven shadows along the fabric walls. Outside, there were low voices, footsteps, the usual noise of people trying to act like things were normal.

Inside the tent, it felt suffocating.

Sheryl tried to smile at him. It didn’t last more than a second before it fell apart.

She shifted closer, her hand lifting slowly like she wasn’t sure if she should.

"Don’t touch me," Harry said.

The words came out sharp.

Her hand stopped midair, then slowly pulled back. She rested it in her lap and curled her fingers into her palm, like she needed something to hold onto.

"...Honey," she started, her voice quieter now, careful. "I know things are... bad right now. But we’ll get through it. We always do."

Harry let out a dry laugh that didn’t sound like a laugh at all.

"Yeah?" he said. "How?"

She didn’t answer right away.

He lowered the pack slightly, just enough to look at her properly.

"Why are you letting this happen?" he asked.

Her shoulders dropped.

"Harry—"

"No," he cut in, shaking his head. "Why are you letting that idiot lead us?"

Sheryl looked down at her hands.

"...I can’t do anything about it."

"Can’t?" Harry repeated. "Or won’t?"

She flinched slightly.

"He was your husband," Harry said, his voice tightening. "My dad. And you’re just gonna sit there and let him lie about how he died? In front of everyone?"

Her head snapped up, hurt flashing across her face.

"What do you want me to do?" she shot back, her voice rising. "Tell me. Right now. What do you want me to do?"

Harry went quiet.

She leaned forward, her breathing uneven now.

"I can’t fight him," she said, her voice breaking through the anger. "You saw what he did to you. You think I can stand up to that? You think anyone here will?"

Her eyes searched his face, desperate for something.

"There are people out there with guns, Harry. People who are scared and hungry and looking for someone to follow. Bill gives them that. He gives them something to hold onto, even if it’s built on lies."

"That doesn’t make it right," Harry said.

"No, it doesn’t," she snapped. "But it keeps us alive."

Silence fell between them again.

Harry pressed the frozen pack back against his eye, slower this time.

Outside, someone laughed. It sounded wrong.

"Dad wouldn’t have done that," Harry muttered.

Sheryl’s face tightened. "You don’t know that."

"I do."

"You don’t," she said firmly. "You didn’t see what he saw. You didn’t have to make the calls he made."

"He didn’t leave people behind," Harry shot back.

Her jaw clenched.

"He did what he had to do," she said. "Just like we are now."

Harry shook his head, looking away.

"That’s bullshit."

Sheryl closed her eyes for a moment, like she was trying to hold herself together.

When she spoke again, her voice was softer.

"Please," she said. "Just... stay out of Bill’s way. Don’t give him a reason to look at you again."

Harry didn’t respond.

"Just until we get to Canada," she added. "We’ll find your brothers. We’ll figure it out from there."

At that, Harry looked back at her.

There was a long pause.

"With the way things are going," he said slowly, "we’ll both be dead before that happens."

The words hit hard.

Sheryl’s breath caught in her throat. "Don’t say that."

"I’m just being honest."

"That’s not honesty," she said. "That’s you giving up."

"I’m not giving up," Harry replied. "I’m paying attention."

She shook her head, tears building in her eyes now.

"Harry, please—"

But he was already moving.

He set the frozen pack aside and pushed himself to his feet. He winced slightly, but ignored it as he reached for his bag in the corner of the tent.

Sheryl’s eyes widened.

"What are you doing?"

He didn’t answer.

He started stuffing things into the bag. Clothes. Supplies. Whatever he could grab without thinking too hard about it.

"Harry," she said again, louder this time. "What are you doing?"

He zipped the bag halfway and slung it over his shoulder.

"Where are you going?" she asked, standing up now.

"Somewhere that isn’t here."

Her heart dropped. "You can’t just leave."

"I can."

"It’s not safe out there."

"It’s not safe in here either," he shot back, gesturing toward the tent walls. "At least out there, I know what I’m dealing with."

"You’re not ready," she said, stepping toward him. "You’re hurt, you’re tired—"

"And staying here is gonna fix that?" he interrupted. "Watching that asshole pretend he’s some kind of hero? Listening to people believe him?"

"That’s how we survive!" she said, her voice cracking.

"No," Harry said. "That’s how you survive."

The words hung there.

Heavy.

Sheryl stopped moving.

He adjusted the strap on his shoulder and turned toward the tent flap.

"Harry," she said, her voice barely above a whisper now. "Please don’t do this."

He paused.

For a second, it looked like he might turn around.

Instead, he glanced back at her.

There was something in his expression she hadn’t seen before.

Not anger.

Not just pain.

Something colder.

"I can’t stay here," he said.

And then he stepped out into the night.

Sheryl stood there, frozen in place, listening to his footsteps fade into the noise of the camp.

Then even that was gone.

—

My right leg wouldn’t stop shaking.

It was subtle, but I could feel it every time I shifted my weight. My hand was still wrapped tight around my other arm, keeping pressure on the cut across my palm. The bleeding had slowed, but the pain hadn’t. It sat there, steady and sharp, reminding me of how close that just got.

I looked between the two of them and let out a slow breath.

If I had ever imagined running into Lila again, it wouldn’t have looked anything like this. There had always been some version of relief in my head. Maybe anger. Maybe confusion. But not this.

Not the tension sitting in my chest.

Not the way I couldn’t fully relax around her anymore.

"...just let me see it, honey," Lila said softly as she stepped closer.

"It’s already bandaged," Naomi cut in.

I shot Naomi a look.

She met it without backing down.

Before Lila could respond, I turned that same look on her. It wasn’t anger. It was something sharper. Something that made her pause for a second.

The silence stretched between us.

I leaned back slightly and exhaled. "...How?"

Lila tilted her head, her expression smoothing out like she didn’t understand.

"How what?" she asked.

I stared at her.

"I watched you die, Lila," I said, keeping my voice even. "I watched you get shot. How are you still alive?"

For a moment, her expression slipped. Just a little.

Then she smiled.

"Well... I guess my love for you was stronger than you thought."

Naomi let out a quiet scoff.

I didn’t react to either of them.

That answer didn’t sit right. It didn’t explain anything. It didn’t even try to. And the worst part was, I knew her well enough to know she was choosing not to answer.

My mind kept moving anyway.

"...who else?"

Lila looked at me again. This time, the softness in her face cracked just enough to show she understood exactly what I meant.

"Who what?" she said.

"Don’t lie to me," I replied, my voice tightening slightly. "You know what I’m asking."

I held her gaze.

For a second, I wasn’t sure what she was going to do. Whether she’d dodge it again or snap like she had earlier.

"...the two lesbians are still alive," she said finally.

The words hit me harder than I expected.

Something loosened in my chest.

"Two lesbians..." I repeated under my breath, then looked at her. "You mean Aubrey and Isabella?"

She shrugged slightly. "I guess."

I let that sink in.

Aubrey and Isabella. Alive.

I hadn’t even let myself think about that possibility. Not seriously. Not after everything that happened.

"...Adira and Carl?" I asked.

"Yeah. Them too, I think."

I nodded slowly, trying to piece it all together.

So they made it.

At least some of them did.

But the question still came up anyway.

"...Julia?"

Lila’s expression changed immediately.

"Oh my God, does it matter?" she snapped.

The words hit harder than they should have.

I went quiet.

She stepped forward and dropped down in front of me, her hands reaching for mine. She was careful with the bandage, but the closeness still made something in me tense.

Naomi turned away almost instantly, like she didn’t want to see it.

"The point is I’m alive, sweetie," Lila said, her voice soft again, like nothing had just happened. "I found you. We found each other."

She smiled at me.

"We can finally continue our plan. Canada. You remember, right?"

Naomi’s head turned sharply.

"There’s no fucking way that psycho is coming with us," she said.

Lila looked over at her, her expression flattening into something cold.

"And who the fuck invited you?"

Naomi didn’t hesitate. "Your boyfriend, actually."

Lila’s head snapped back toward me.

"Honey," she said, her tone tightening just a little. "What’s she talking about?"

I held her gaze.

There wasn’t a clean way to say this. No way that wouldn’t set something off.

But I couldn’t lie.

"I was supposed to go to Canada with Naomi," I said.

I saw it happen in real time.

Her eyes darkened.

Her shoulders stiffened.

The shift was instant, like a switch had been flipped.

My stomach dropped.

She was about to snap again.

"Oh my God, will you relax?" Naomi cut in, stepping forward slightly. "I don’t want your boyfriend." She said.

"Hailey’s already gotten down and dirty with him enough."

She said it with a small, almost mocking smile.

Something twisted in my chest as I looked at her, my voice cracking as I was about to deny it—

But Lila had already stood up fast and moved toward her.

I got up too and pushed her back before she could reach her.

"Hey—!" I said sharply.

She struggled for a second, trying to get past me, but it wasn’t the same as before. There was anger there, but not that full loss of control. Not that same intent to kill.

Still bad.

But not as bad.

Naomi stayed where she was, watching us with narrowed eyes.

"Keep her in check," she said. "I’m not dealing with that again."

"Shut the FUCK up—!" Lila snapped.

I kept a hand against her shoulder, holding her back.

"Lila," I said, trying to keep my voice steady. "Just stop for a second."

She looked at me.

Really looked.

And for a moment, the anger in her face softened into something else.

Something hurt.

She pushed me off.

I stumbled back slightly, but held.

"...You were just going to leave with her?" she asked.

There it was.

That question.

I exhaled slowly. "I thought you were dead."

Her jaw tightened.

"Are you serious right now...?" she said. "Your plan was to just— to just run off with some girl that’s not me? No looking back?"

"It— no!!" I replied, something creeping up in my stomach.

"I just needed someone to help me not die!!" I said.

She didn’t respond right away.

Her eyes searched my face, like she was trying to find something that proved I was lying.

Behind her, Naomi shifted her weight, still watching, still ready if things went south again.

"I came all this way for you," Lila said quietly. "I followed your trail, Adrian. I didn’t stop."

I swallowed.

"I know that know."

"No, you don’t, quite clearly!!!" she snapped, shaking her head slightly. "You don’t know what I had to do to get here. Not even the half of it."

Silence settled between us again.

The kind that didn’t feel safe.

I looked between the two of them.

Naomi, tense and guarded, ready to pull the trigger if she had to.

Lila, standing too close, emotions shifting too fast for me to keep up with.

And me, stuck right in the middle of it.

I ran a hand through my hair, wincing slightly when it pulled at my injured palm.

"...we’re not doing this out here," I said finally.

"Let’s all just...get some rest, okay? We’re gonna need to move a lot tomorrow."

Neither of them answered.

But neither of them argued either.

And somehow, that felt worse.