The Eve of Ashes

Ash's body moved before her mind could catch up. She lunged forward, her fists clenched so tight her nails dug into her palms. Eve's eyes widened for a split second, a flicker of surprise crossing her face before her usual smirk returned.

"There it is," Eve said, sliding off the car hood. She tossed her bat aside, the metal clanging against the pavement. "Come on then. Let's see what you've got."

Ash swung wildly, her fist connecting with Eve's jaw. The impact sent a jolt of pain up her arm, but she barely felt it. She swung again, and again, each punch fueled by the grief and rage that had been building since her father's death.

Eve stumbled back, raising her arms to block Ash's assault. "Is that all?" she taunted, her voice rough

Ash's fist connected with Eve's face again, the impact sending a shock through her arm. But Eve didn't go down. She staggered back a step, then lunged forward, tackling Ash to the ground.

They collided with the unforgiving pavement, Eve's body slamming down on top of Ash's. She pinned his arms down with a fierce strength, despite her frantic thrashing and attempts to throw her off. The impact sent shockwaves of pain through their bodies, but Eve held onto her grip with an unbreakable determination.

"You done?" Eve asked, her voice tight with exertion. A trickle of blood ran from her split lip.

Ash glared up at her, chest heaving. "Get off me," she snarled.

"Not until you calm down."

"Calm down?" Ash's voice cracked. "You killed my dad!"

Eve's expression hardened. "That thing wasn't your dad anymore."

"You don't know that! He was fine, he was walking—"

"He wasn't fine!" Eve snapped, her grip on Ash's wrists tightening. "I saw his eyes, Ash. They were empty. Gone. He would have torn you apart if I hadn't stopped him."

Ash struggled against Eve's hold, tears burning in her eyes. "You don't know that! You didn't even give him a chance!"

"A chance to what? Kill you? Turn you into one of them?" Eve's voice was sharp, but there was an undercurrent of something else. Pain, maybe. Or regret. "I've seen what happens when people hesitate. It doesn't end well."

Ash stopped fighting, her body going limp beneath Eve's. The anger that had propelled her this far suddenly drained away, leaving nothing but a hollow ache in its wake. "He was all I had left," she whispered, her voice breaking.

Eve's expression softened, just for a moment. "He was infected, Ash. You can't come back from that."

Ash bucked beneath her, but Eve's grip only tightened. "You didn't even try to help him! You just... you just killed him!"

"I did what I had to do," Eve said quietly. 

Ash felt the rage inside her churning, the urge to fight still there, but the impact of Eve's words weighed heavily on her. Her dad had been all she had left, and Eve was right—if he was really gone... She closed her eyes, blinking back tears.

Eve exhaled sharply, her breath coming in heavy gasps, but she didn't show any sign of giving in. She rolled off Ash, standing up with the same unwavering posture she always had, eyes cold and calculating.

Ash's chest tightened, a lump forming in her throat. She pushed herself up slowly, not meeting Eve's gaze. The anger was still there, simmering beneath the surface, but it wasn't as sharp as it had been. It felt hollow now, like the pain had worn itself thin, leaving something colder behind.

"You could've tried to save him," Ash whispered, the words barely coming out. Her voice cracked again, but she didn't care anymore. "You didn't even try."

Eve was no longer listening, her gaze swept the area, her body tensing as her ears picked up the faintest sounds in the distance. The familiar groan of the undead. Her eyes narrowed, scanning the shadows. "We've drawn them," she said, her voice sharp and urgent. "We need to move. Now."

Ash barely glanced around, her mind still too tangled in the mess of emotions swirling inside her. "I'm not going anywhere with you," she spat, her voice hoarse with frustration. "Not after what you did."

Eve's lip curled into a dismissive sneer, but her eyes turned hard, dark and impassive. She took a step closer, voice low but cutting. "You're out of your mind if you think you can survive out here alone." She took a glance toward the distant, growing sounds of shuffling feet, her voice growing colder with each word. "You don't even have a weapon. You're just asking to get yourself killed."

Ash stiffened, but there was a flicker of doubt in her eyes. She didn't want to admit it, but Eve was right. She had nothing.

Eve's stare bore into her, harsh and unyielding. "If you want to live, get your ass up."

Ash clenched her fists, teeth gritted, but the hollow ache from earlier returned with full force. She had no desire to keep fighting—not anymore. The rage was there, but it felt distant, like a fire that had burned out. And the idea of being alone, vulnerable, the sound of zombies closing in, sent a chill through her.

But she wasn't going to give in. Not to Eve. Not after everything.

"Fine," she said, her voice thick with defiance. "But don't think this means I forgive you."

Eve didn't respond right away. Instead, she took a step back, scanning the horizon once more, clearly weighing her options. Then she met Ash's eyes, her expression unreadable, before she turned toward the direction they needed to go.

"You're welcome to die here on your own," she said, her tone like steel. "But if you want to keep breathing, get moving. Now."

Ash followed Eve, her breaths shallow and ragged as they weaved through the darkened streets. The groans of the undead echoed behind them, growing louder. Ash hated how easily Eve seemed to navigate the chaos, how she moved without hesitation, as if the crumbling world didn't faze her at all.

Eve led her down a narrow alley, then ducked into a decrepit building. It smelled of mildew and rot, but the walls and boarded windows made it feel like a fortress compared to the exposed streets. Eve pressed a finger to her lips, motioning for Ash to stay quiet as she carefully bolted the door behind them.

"This way," Eve whispered, moving further inside.

Ash trailed her reluctantly, the silence between them stretching as tense as the air outside. The building was stripped bare, save for a small pile of supplies in the corner—a backpack, some cans of food, and a baseball bat propped against the wall.

"Your safe house?" Ash muttered, her tone acidic. "Charming."

Eve ignored her, heading toward the back window to peer through a gap in the boards. Her face was shadowed, but Ash could see the way her shoulders tensed as she watched for movement outside.

Ash leaned against the wall, arms crossed. "This is your plan? Hole up in a rotting building and hope they just give up?"

Eve turned, her expression unreadable. "You have a better idea? By all means, let's hear it."

Ash opened her mouth to retort, but before she could, a loud crash came from the front of the building. Both of them froze. The sound was followed by the unmistakable shuffle of feet.

"They're here," Eve hissed, grabbing her bat.

The door rattled violently, the groans of the zombies growing louder. Ash's stomach dropped as she backed away instinctively.

Eve crept toward the door, her bat raised. She motioned for Ash to stay put, but Ash's body was already trembling with adrenaline. Eve didn't wait for her. She swung the door open a crack, just enough to aim a blow at the first zombie trying to push through. The bat cracked against its skull with a sickening thud.

But Eve didn't see the second one.

The creature lunged from the side, its rotted fingers clawing toward Eve's exposed neck.

"Look out!" Ash shouted, her body moving before her mind caught up. She grabbed the first thing she could find—a rusted pipe lying against the wall—and swung it with all her strength. The pipe collided with the zombie's head, sending it stumbling back.

Eve spun around, her bat coming down hard to finish the job. The zombie crumpled to the ground, motionless.

For a moment, the only sound was their ragged breathing. Eve turned to Ash, her face a mix of surprise and something close to respect.

"You actually did something useful," she said, her voice laced with mockery. But there was a glint in her eye that wasn't entirely disdain.

Ash glared at her, clutching the pipe so tightly her knuckles turned white. "Don't get used to it," she snapped. "I didn't do it for you."

Eve smirked, but her gaze lingered on Ash a moment longer before she moved back to secure the door.

Later, when the night had settled into an uneasy quiet, Ash sat on the floor near the boarded window, staring out at the darkness. Eve sat across the room, sharpening the edge of her bat with a stone.

"You saved my life," Eve said suddenly, breaking the silence.

Ash looked at her, startled. She hadn't expected any acknowledgement. "Don't flatter yourself," she said. "I just didn't feel like getting eaten tonight."

Eve chuckled dryly. "Fair enough." She paused, then added, "Name's Eve, by the way."

Ash raised an eyebrow, leaning back against the wall. "I know," she said flatly.

Eve's brow furrowed. "How?"

Ash hesitated, her cheeks flushing despite herself. "I've seen you around. Before... all this. At the diner. The gas station. You always looked... I don't know. Like you didn't care about anything." She gave a bitter laugh. "Turns out I was right. You're just an asshole."

Eve's smirk returned, sharper this time. "Takes one to know one, huh?"

Ash shook her head, looking away. She hated that Eve had that effect on her—making her feel exposed, vulnerable. But she couldn't deny the truth. Eve might be an asshole, but in this world, that was probably the only reason she was still alive.