Chapter Ten : Rath

I have no idea how the f**k she got here but somehow, I know it’s a sign. A reason to keep fighting. A reason to stay alive. Cassie Reed doesn’t have the slightest clue how much she affects me, how her mere existence sends cracks running through the concrete I’ve poured over myself for years. One glance from her -- those pitch-black eyes that look like they could swallow the world whole -- and all the masks I wear begin to crumble.
I could lose myself in her so easily without a care for anything else in the world.

Since the first time I laid my eyes on her, something in me shifted. Life didn’t seem as heavy. As unbearable. And now that she’s here -- real, breathing, sleeping beside me -- I know I have to make it out of this hell. With her. I don’t know what comes after survival, but maybe, just maybe, I’ll figure out how to make her want to stay. By my side. With me.

It’s strange -- craving someone like this. I’ve never allowed myself that kind of weakness. Limerence was always something I scoffed at, something I thought only desperate people indulged in. I told myself she was just another face, a fleeting crush at best. I tried not to think of her, especially after the world went dark, because that would’ve meant she mattered. And if she mattered, it would’ve hurt too much to consider she might already be gone.

So I buried her -- deep beneath denial and distraction. But now that she’s here, everything feels different.

It’s not every day a girl shows up mid-apocalypse, wielding a chainsaw like a damn war goddess and saves your a*s without breaking a sweat. If that’s not a sign from the universe, I don’t know what is.

The end of the world stripped away everything, but it’s made her shine. There’s no one left to impress, no crowd to fade into, no judgments to shrink beneath. And without all that weight, she’s radiant, unfiltered, wild, and free in a way I don’t think even she realizes. She’s fierce and unapologetically herself.

And right now, she’s tangled up in me, her feet brushing mine, her breath warm against my neck, her face buried so sweetly into my skin that it makes my heart clench. Each breath of hers sends a tremor through me, and all I want is to stay here in this fragile bubble we've found -- shut off from the rot and chaos outside.

I should probably stop thinking about her like this. It’s bordering on obsession -- f**k, it’s already way past that. But she’s burrowed herself so deeply into my thoughts, it’s like she’s etched into my bones.

She looks so f*****g beautiful when she sleeps. There's something soft and untouched about her in the morning light -- like dew clinging to a rose just before it disappears under the sun. But under that gentleness, there’s tempered steel. She’s a contradiction I can’t seem to stop unraveling.

Sunlight filters through the cracked window and spills across the bed, brushing against her skin. She stirs, stretches like a cat, slow and elegant, before blinking herself awake. Her eyes dart to where our bodies are still curled together, and she recoils in surprise.

“What the f**k, Rath? Why were you on my side of the bed?” she snaps, arms crossing over her chest like she’s shielding herself from something more than just me.

I smirk. “Darling, you’re the one who wrapped yourself all around me like your life depended on it. Not that I mind, Of course”
She scoffs, clearly flustered. “Whatever. Creep.”

She slides out of bed, not even bothering to argue further -- probably because she knows I’m right. Note to self : Cassie’s a heavy sleeper. Lucky for her, I’m a light one. Every tiniest of noises wakes me up. Unless I’m drunk, of course -- then I sleep like the dead. But I doubt I’ll be getting wasted anytime soon.
That being said, we need a plan.

“So,” I say, rubbing the sleep from my eyes, “where are we headed?”
Given the stockpile of weapons and supplies she’s been hoarding, I figure she has a better handle on this survival thing than I do.

“We’re getting out of the college today,” she replies, already pulling on her boots. “Try to make contact with whatever remains of the government. Internet’s been dead since day one, so that’s out. Best we can hope for is finding somewhere safe, maybe a survivor outpost.”
She says it all like it’s obvious. Like she’s had the whole thing mapped out from the start. Figures.
“Sounds like a plan--
“And,” she cuts in, not missing a beat, “we might be able to grab some of the guards’ guns. Could be useful long-term. Also need to refill our water bottles near the gate.”
Of course she’s thought of everything.
Goddamn, this woman.

“Rath, did you bring any spare clothes with you?” she asks, rummaging through her own bag like it might magically produce something useful.
“Just a T-shirt. Didn’t want to stuff my bag with deadweight,” I reply, curious. “Why?”
Her face lights up. “That is great. Can I borrow it?”
My brow quirks. “For what?”
“To wear it, duh.” She shrugs like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

That actually makes me smile. Cassie Reed just asked to wear my T-shirt.

“Aww. You wanna wear my clothes? That’s cute,” I say with a cocky grin I know she hates.
She rolls her eyes. “The T-shirt I wore while I escaped from the dorms is not so loose, and I’m hating every second of it. If it’s baggy, it’s more comfortable. You’re obviously big as f**k.”

“Hey, I’m just tall, okay? I've got a beautiful lean build,” I protest, mildly offended.
“You’re still big as f**k compared to me,” she fires back.
I mutter under my breath, “Everyone’s big as f**k compared to you.”
“I totally heard that. I am decently tall enough, thank you very much. F**k you,” she huffs, glaring at me like I just kicked her cat. And somehow, she still manages to look... adorable.

“Alright, alright,” I say, laughing as I dig into my backpack. I pull out the crumpled T-shirt and hold it out to her. She reaches for it--but I tug it back at the last second.
“But what do I get in return?”
She narrows her eyes. “What do you want?”
“I’ll think about it,” I say, smirking. “You can have the T-shirt for now.”

She snatches it but hesitates, watching me like I might try something stupid. “You have to turn around,” she says, tone sharp.
I do it without protest. As much as I enjoy messing with her, I’m not about to cross a line.

I stand there in silence, facing a dusty wall, trying not to overthink the sound of shifting fabric behind me. Instead, I focus on what comes next. The gates. The road. The risk. I keep telling myself that if we’re smart and fast, we can get through this. Past the gates. Past the wreckage. Without a scratch.

“Okay,” she finally says. “You can turn around now.”
I do--and she’s there in my shirt, drowning in it, arms crossed, trying to act like it’s no big deal. It is. But I don’t say that.

"I actually sort of got here on a bicycle," she says, brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Think you could find another one from around here? Or, well… you could sit on the back of mine." A smile tugs at her lips, teasing, playful.

I stare at her like she's sprouted a second head. "I'm a tall-a*s man, Cass. I don’t think I can perch on the back of your dainty little cycle without breaking it--or us. And I sure as hell can't scrounge up another ride in the middle of all this."

"Okay, fair." She sighs dramatically, as if burdened by my existence. "I guess I’ll have to walk with you. Which is just great." Her tone is pure sarcasm, but I catch the sliver of sincerity underneath. She could very well leave me behind, pedal into the horizon and let me rot. But I know she won’t.

And I hate that that makes my chest feel... fluttery. I shouldn’t be swooning. We’re literally surrounded by undead freaks. But hey, men are simple creatures. A girl saves your a*s, and suddenly you're all over her like hoes on Santa.
Then it hits me. Like an actual lightbulb moment.
“Wait,” I say, snapping my fingers. “The supervisor. He usually comes in on his bike. If we’re lucky, and he didn’t bolt with it, the keys should still be in his room.”

Cass tilts her head. “I did see a black Duke parked out front when I came in. That his?”
A grin stretches across my face. “Perfect. Yes. That’s his. Which means--”
“--the keys must be in the supervisor’s room,” she finishes with a nod.
We lock eyes. For once, on the same page. For once, there’s a plan that doesn’t suck.

“Except… I don’t know how to ride a bike.”
I blink. “Oh, sweetheart,” I say, lips curling into a smug smile. “Whoever said you were driving?”

Her eyes roll so hard I worry they might get stuck. “God, you’re annoying,” she mutters, but follows me anyway as I push open the creaky door to the supervisor’s office.

Thankfully, the hallway is quiet. No groans, no shuffling feet, no stink of rot. At least for now. We slip inside, and I get to work, rummaging through drawers, shelves, under piles of dusty folders that haven’t seen daylight since the dawn of Excel.
The keys are nowhere to be found.
Until they are.
“Found them,” I say triumphantly, plucking them from under the desk where they’d fallen, half-hidden beneath a coffee-stained report.
I hold them up with a grin. Victory.
Cass doesn’t look impressed. If anything, she looks slightly alarmed. “You sure you won’t kill us both?”

I scoff, pocketing the keys with a flourish. “Cass, I’ve been riding since I was fifteen. We'll be fine.”
She raises a skeptical eyebrow. I don’t blame her. But she still follows me out of the room. And that says more than words ever could.

"As for the zombies outside. I kill. You hold them back until I can kill them too", she says nonchalant as f**k. Man, this girl is so f*****g beautiful in her own element. Why didn't I get to witness this everyday. maybe there should have been a zombie apocalypse sooner.

There's few zombies blocking the exit, of course. Cause of all the commotion last night. Makes sense. I've got the rod I brought with me. And then there's her with her f*****g chainsaw. However the f**k did she manage to find a chainsaw? But I'm sure it won't last long We haven't got any electricity here. Cause with the rest of the world crumbling obviously there's no one left to give us electricity.

She flings her chainsaw and slices zombies like it's nothing. I hit zombies with rod to hold them back enough until she can slice them too. And when we've slit enough of them to leave a a window to escape. We make a run for it. I spot the bike almost right away. And run faster to get there in time to start the bike. There's more zombies coming this way I can tell, cause with all the noise of course it must've attracted more of them. I kickstart the bike and it roars to life. She climbs on the back of the bike. And I drive the f**k away from the god forsaken dorms.

“There’s enough fuel in here,” I say, eyes on the road. “But we’ll still make a stop at the gas station once we’re out.”
She nods--just a small tilt of her head that I catch in the rearview mirror. I probably linger a little too long watching her, because--
“Rath. Eyes on the road,” she says, her voice sharp, cutting straight through my head.

I blink, shake it off, focus again. The road’s a mess--cracked asphalt, overgrown weeds, and bodies that used to be people. A few of them notice the sound of the engine and start following, their movements twitchy and wrong. Some of them are fast. Too fast.
I speed up.
Then I catch her watching me in the mirror now.
“Don’t stop on my account,” I say.
She scowls. “You’re so goddamn full of yourself, you know that, Ashford?”
Still not denying it. That’s gotta count for something. I grin, a lazy tilt of the lips, and let the silence hold just long enough to say what I don’t.

The gate comes into view fast. And yeah--there they are. A few of the guards, or what’s left of them. Stumbling. Waiting. Of course they are.

No time to restock the bottles. And worse--the gate’s locked.
“We’ve gotta get to the security room. Keys should still be inside.” She’s already off the bike, scanning our surroundings. “You go. I’ll cover you.”
“Ever plan on discussing any of your plans with me before finalizing them?” I mutter, pulling up beside the door, reluctant to leave her out here.
“Go, Rath. Now.”
There’s urgency in her voice. And something else. I don’t stop to think about it.

I head straight for the security office, boots hitting the pavement hard. One of the former guards snarls and starts sprinting, his noise dragging the others with him. Cassie steps forward, chainsaw roaring to life, meeting them head-on. The office is half-collapsed, shelves overturned--but the keys are still hanging where they always were. I grab them and turn back just in time to see her covered in blood, two down already. One left.

And then the chainsaw sputters out.
F**k. It was bound to happen.

I swing hard, slamming my rod into the last one just as it lunges. It staggers. I toss the keys to Cassie.
“GATES. Now,” I shout.
She’s already at the lock, flipping through the keys fast, swearing under her breath. One clicks. The gate unlocks.
Who the f**k uses locks and keys these days anyway?

The last zombie is still crawling toward us. I pull her back, push the rod into her hands, start the bike again.
“Get on.”
She does, turns back just long enough to smash the rod into the thing’s skull one last time.
Then we’re off.
Out the gate. Out of that place. And even with the wind in my face and her arms tight around me, all I can feel is the weight in my chest.
This isn’t over. I get the feeling this is just the beginning of a life far worse.
But boy, are we ready for it.

Reviews

[damienf]

Very good so far!
It's clear you're going for an exciting action-packed opening, and for the most part it works very well. I really like Cassie's voice. The cadence, crude word choice and sentence length help the fast-paced narrative flow and pull us into her cynical, ballsy personality.

Please take this as constructive, as it's meant to be.

Rath's voice could be a little more distinctive, to differentiate him from Cassie more fully. I think perhaps you've begun to find Rath's unique voice in chapter 10, which is great, but in earlier chapters the feel and tone is a bit close. Perhaps remove the cursing, or make his eye more aware of setting, description etc.? Or perhaps give him a completing different motivation in early chapters which will drive action, thought and feeling other than surviving The Now.

None of that is meant to discourage - you can write!

Keep going, your characters and plot will develop as you do and revision polishes everything. :-)

[Evelyn Vayne]

Hey Damien,

Thank you so much for your thoughtful review—seriously, it means a lot!

Your point about Rath is incredibly helpful. I completely agree that his voice needs to stand out more, especially in the earlier chapters. I’ll definitely keep that in mind during revisions. It’s still very much a work in progress, so feedback like yours is absolute gold right now.

Thanks again for taking the time to read and respond with such care. I truly appreciate it!

[damienf]

You're very welcome Evelyn. If you'd like, ping me when you upload the next 10 chapters and I'll take a read of those too.