Chapter 58 - 57: Campfire
The silence stretched on for several minutes.
Neither of them seemed interested in breaking it.
Alexander remained by the cracked window, his attention fixed on the empty road outside. The sun had dipped lower, staining the horizon in fading shades of gold and amber. Long shadows crept across the abandoned buildings, slowly swallowing the last of the daylight.
Night was coming.
Traveling after dark, without knowing what hunted these roads, would be an unnecessary risk.
His eyes swept across the surrounding area one final time.
The road remained empty.
No movement.
No infected.
No sign that anyone else had passed through since they arrived.
Satisfied, he finally turned away from the window.
The interior of the storage building was no more inviting than before. Dust blanketed every surface, broken shelves leaned against the walls, and rotting cardboard boxes had collapsed into shapeless piles. Near one corner, splintered wooden planks were scattered across the floor where a shelving unit had long since given way.
They would do.
Alexander walked over and crouched beside the debris, gathering the driest pieces into a small pile. The wood snapped cleanly beneath his hands, the sharp cracks echoing through the quiet building.
Across the room, Cassandra watched him for a moment before speaking. "What are you doing?"
"I’m going to start a fire," Alexander replied without looking up. "It’ll get cold after sunset."
It wasn’t much of an explanation, but it was enough.
Once he had gathered enough wood, he arranged it near the center of the room where the breeze from the broken windows couldn’t reach it as easily. A few moments later, a small flame caught.
It spread slowly through the dry timber, casting a warm orange glow that chased the shadows from the corners of the room. The fire wasn’t large enough to attract unnecessary attention, but it would provide warmth and enough light to get through the night.
Alexander watched it for a few seconds to make sure it would hold before returning to his place beside the window.
His knife rested within easy reach.
Outside, the wind whispered through the abandoned buildings, carrying the occasional creak of loose metal somewhere in the distance.
Inside, the fire crackled softly.
The silence settled over them once again, though it no longer felt quite as heavy as before.
Cassandra glanced across the flames. "You really don’t talk much, do you?"
Alexander met her eyes briefly. " No."
She smiled despite herself. "I noticed."
A quiet laugh escaped her before she shook her head. "At least you’re consistent."
Alexander offered no reply.
He simply looked back toward the window, his attention drifting outside once more.
Cassandra leaned against the wall and adjusted her position carefully. One hand rested protectively over the curve of her stomach.
A small kick made her flinch.
The expression disappeared almost as quickly as it came, but Alexander noticed it.
He said nothing.
After a while, he reached into his backpack and brought out two bottles of water, followed by two small packets of biscuits.
Without a word, he slid one bottle and one packet across the concrete floor toward Cassandra before setting the other pair beside himself.
She looked down at them. Then back at him.
"You know," she said, "most people would’ve said something."
Alexander frowned slightly. "Like what?"
"I don’t know." A faint smile tugged at her lips. "Maybe... ’Here, you should eat.’ Something along those lines."
He considered that for a second.
Then simply said, "Eat while you can."
The words were plain and practical.
Cassandra blinked before a small, genuine smile appeared on her face. "I suppose that counts."
She picked up the bottle and biscuits. "Thank you."
Alexander gave a small nod and reached for his own food.
The room fell quiet again. This time, the silence felt almost comfortable. Only the soft crackle of the fire and the rustle of biscuit wrappers disturbed the stillness.
For several minutes, the only sounds inside the shelter were the soft crackle of burning wood and the faint rustle of paper as Cassandra opened the packet of biscuits.
She hadn’t realized how hungry she was until the first bite.
The biscuits disappeared far more quickly than she would have liked to admit, chased down by slow mouthfuls of water. Only after the last crumb was gone did she realize how empty her stomach had been. A wave of embarrassment flickered across her face, but Alexander offered no comment. He simply remained where he was, sitting against the wall nearest the window while the fire cast flickering orange light across the abandoned room.
Outside, the daylight continued to fade. Inside, the shadows danced across broken shelves and cracked concrete as evening quietly settled around them.
Alexander reached into his inventory once more. This time, something slipped from his fingers.
Clink.
A silver coin struck the floor, spun in a widening circle, then rolled across the concrete before coming to rest beside the fire.
Cassandra’s eyes widened. "Wait."
Alexander bent down and picked it up.
"You have silver?"
He looked at her without answering.
Cassandra sat up a little straighter, surprise replacing the exhaustion on her face. "You have silver too."
It wasn’t really a question anymore.
Alexander turned the coin between his fingers. Strange runes carved into its surface caught the firelight, their faint glow reflecting across the polished metal.
Cassandra stared at it for another second before another realization dawned on her.
"Wait..." A smile slowly spread across her face. "You don’t actually know what it’s for, do you?"
Alexander remained silent.
That silence was answer enough.
She couldn’t help letting out a quiet laugh "That’s actually kind of funny."
The corner of Alexander’s eyebrow lifted ever so slightly.
Cassandra pointed toward the coin. "How much do you have?"
Alexander looked at her. She immediately groaned and lifted both hands in surrender.
"No, forget I asked." She laughed at herself before shaking her head. "That was rude. You don’t have to answer that."
The smile lingered for a moment before gradually fading. Her gaze drifted back to the fire, watching the flames sway gently as if searching for something inside them.
When she finally spoke again, her voice was much quieter. "The whole day still doesn’t feel real."
Alexander listened without interrupting.
"I went to sleep three months pregnant. That was the last completely normal thing I remember. Then I woke up, and..." She paused, searching for the right words. "At first I thought something was wrong with me. I honestly believed I’d somehow blacked out for months or lost my memory. It sounds ridiculous now, but when you wake up and your body has changed overnight, your mind starts reaching for impossible explanations before it accepts reality."
She let out a weak laugh and rested a hand against the curve of her stomach.
"I was terrified. I could barely think straight. Then the baby kicked." A faint smile touched her lips. "Just once." Her fingers rubbed gently across her stomach.
"For a few seconds, nothing else mattered. I remember thinking, ’She’s okay.’ That one tiny kick made me forget everything else. Then my brain started working again, and I panicked all over again." She smiled at herself, though it carried more exhaustion than humor. "I could barely stand properly. Nobody tells you how much your balance changes during pregnancy. Suddenly I was trying to understand why my own body felt unfamiliar while convincing myself I hadn’t somehow lost half a year."
She glanced at Alexander.
"I don’t suppose you have much experience with that."
"No."
His answer came as calmly as ever.
She chuckled. "I figured."
The silence between them settled comfortably once more.
The fire continued to burn while Cassandra watched the flames, her expression gradually growing more distant.
"When I finally left my bedroom," she said softly, "Miss Green was standing in the hallway."
Alexander’s attention shifted toward her. It was a small movement. She noticed anyway.
"She’d been helping me ever since the pregnancy. She wasn’t family, but..." Cassandra smiled faintly. "She fussed over me enough that she might as well have been."
The smile faded. "I called her name, but she didn’t answer. She just stood there with her back to me." Her breathing slowed. "I remember thinking she was angry about something." She lowered her eyes. "Then she turned around."
The room seemed quieter than before.
"Something was wrong." Her voice had become little more than a whisper.
"Her skin had turned gray. Not pale... gray. And her eyes..." She swallowed. "There was nothing in them anymore. I knew immediately that something had happened."
She shook her head slowly. "I just didn’t want to believe it."
Outside, the wind rattled a loose sheet of metal somewhere in the darkness.
Neither of them moved.
Cassandra kept staring into the fire. "Then she started running toward me."
Not walking... not stumbling... Running.
"The strangest part is that I don’t remember feeling scared first." A brittle laugh escaped her. "I remember staring at her hair."
She looked down, almost embarrassed by the admission.
"It had turned completely white. Out of everything happening, that was the detail my brain decided to hold onto." She smiled sadly. "It’s ridiculous, isn’t it? The world was ending, someone I’d known for months was charging at me, and all I could think was..." She hesitated before quietly finishing, "...when did her hair turn white?"
The smile disappeared.
For a long moment, she simply watched the flames.
Across the fire, Alexander remained silent.
Outside, the last traces of daylight slipped beyond the horizon as darkness slowly claimed the abandoned road.