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⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ AS she gasped for breath, Anastasia's body jolted back to life.

She sat up, propping herself against the jagged edge of an oak tree and scanned the forest with her pear-green eyes. Despite the cold atmosphere, the sun peered through the thick canopy, casting warm beams throughout the woods. Blackbirds chirped from the dense branches, and for a moment, Anastasia savoured the peace, a smile gracing her lips. But her calm was short-lived, replaced by a surge of panic, forcing its way down the woman's throat. Questions raced through her mind. How long had she been out? Had they managed to track her down?

Anastasia couldn't dwell on her fears for long; she sprang to her feet and slashed a path through the pristine grass. She still sported the bloody shirt, and every move sent pain pulsing through the crevices of her bones. Stopping for even a second was a liability, a dead giveaway that put her at a disadvantage. With a renewed urgency and determination, she pressed forward, her only goal outdistancing her pursuers.

A snapping branch echoed through the stillness, and Anastasia spun around, startled. A man stood among the trees, half-hidden by the foliage. He stared at her intently, and as he took a step, Anastasia's breath caught in her throat. She felt weak-kneed, her body quivering. Tears were brewing in her eyes as she struggled to comprehend what—or who—she was seeing. He was a welcome sight after a harrowing experience.

"Diego?" Anastasia's voice blared through the tension. The man quickly nodded and rushed towards her, enfolding in an embrace. They both wept, their tears mingling as they clung to each other. "I've missed you so much, big brother."

"I missed you too, Ana," he murmured, his voice a soothing balm to her frayed nerves. Anastasia longed to hear it again, to imprint the sound in her memory forever. She exhaled as she relaxed into his arms. How long had it been? Seven years? A lifetime?

"Where the hell have you been? I thought you were dead."

"I came close to death," he chuckled. "But a group of campers took me in, and I stayed with them for a few nights. Before I knew it, those nights turned into years."

"I'm so glad you're okay."

"Me too. We're not far from here, by the way. I was just out hunting for food when I stumbled upon you."

Anastasia's voice was a mixture of laughter and discomfort. "Surprise, I guess," she said, looking up at the trees to distract herself from the pain. A squirrel ran past the branches.

"Are you hurt?" Diego asked, his concern immediate. He noticed the stitches and the wine-red stain on her shirt, his eyes wide with horror.

"That bad, huh?"

"Oh my God, Ana! What the fuck happened to you?"

"Unbelievable," she snarled. "I was in an abandoned warehouse, defenceless, when those idiots found me. They shot me, took me captive, and chained me up like a fucking animal. I was lucky I made it out without any more injuries."

"What about your head?"

Anastasia's fingers fumbled around the sensitive skin, and as she touched the bandaged wound, a hiss fell past her lips. "Oh, that. I completely forgot about it with everything else going on. I hit myself during an ambush."

"I should have been there to protect you."

"It's not your fault."

"We have to take care of this as soon as possible. Can you walk?"

"I think so."

"Here, hold on to me," he said with urgency.

As Diego helped her, Anastasia leaned on him, grateful for his presence. The sun began settling over the horizon, casting long shadows across the forest floor. The siblings remained silent, but the rustle of leaves and twigs underfoot broke into the stillness. Anastasia's mind wandered through a jumbled mess of thoughts and emotions, and she struggled as her eyes kept closing.

They carved through the woods as Diego gently led her, hoping they would find a safe place. She needed tending to the wound before it was too late. She trusted her brother, even though she knew the apocalypse changed everyone.

Was it foolish? Perhaps.

As the siblings pushed ahead, they arrived at a clearing, a highway winding up to the left. It seemed the place was thriving; vines folded the road, drilling into the mossy concrete to reclaim its resources. And near the path stood an Infected, hunched forward as it wept. A Runner. Shit.

"Ana, can you stay here?" Diego asked, his voice barely a whisper. He nodded towards the creature, "I need to take care of that."

"Diego—"

"It'll only be a second."

"Okay."

"Yeah. I'll be right back."

Diego nodded, stepping away from Anastasia. She felt her knees tremble as she struggled to maintain her balance. Focused on staying still, the woman tried to stand upright, afraid of making any noise that might give away their presence. She watched Diego sneak behind the Runner, fishing a butterfly knife from his pocket. It was the same knife Anastasia had given him when the world was on the brink of collapse, and the sight filled her heart with warmth and nostalgia.

Her brother swung at the monster skilfully, driving the blade deep into its throat. Within moments, the Runner's legs gave way, and its lifeless body fell to the ground with a heavy thud. As Diego retrieved the weapon, a pool of blood stained the grass—the familiar aftermath of defeating an Infected. The only sound that followed the redemption was a deadly silence as it hung in the air.

The foul odour no longer fazed Anastasia. Exhausted and with little energy to spare, she could hardly afford to be bothered by the smell. All she wanted was to lie down and rest, to close her eyes and catch her breath for just a few moments. But Diego got back to her frantically.

"We're almost there," he promised. "Hold on a little longer, and then I'll ensure you get proper medical attention, yeah?"

Anastasia gave a weak nod, too tired to say anything else. As Diego offered a helping hand, they continued their slow journey back to the camp. After an eternity, they finally arrived, a maze of buildings greeting the siblings. Plywood and rivets held together the dilapidated structures and stood proud against the dystopia. But despite the decrepit appearance, these constructions were surprisingly sturdy, built to withstand the harsh conditions of the wasteland and protect the inhabitants from outside lurkers.

The most interesting building in the camp was a towering structure that had once been a factory. It loomed over the village, its smokestacks rising into the sky, casting long shadows over the surrounding area. Diego led Anastasia around the premise, helping her to a nearby tent where she'd properly get treated. She sat on a small cot and tried to shake off the dizziness. The woman tilted her head at her brother, a thankful glint sparking in her eyes.

Soon enough, she heard ruffling as a familiar face entered the tent, causing Anastasia's heart to sink with terror. It took a moment before she realised she was in grave danger, the gut feeling kicking in. She came face-to-face with her captor, who had taken her to this godforsaken place. His eyes blazed with intensity as he stared, a cruel smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Anastasia," he said, and the woman's fatigue vanished.

"What the hell is he doing here?!" she shrieked, her voice filled with despair and anger. She turned to face Diego, rage and frustration boiling in her veins as she demanded, "What's happening?!"

"Calm down," Marc rolled his eyes.

"How do you know each other?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

Despite the hostility in his words, she knew he was right.

She attempted to stand up, but Diego grabbed her by the shoulder, pushing her back onto the cot. The sense of betrayal felt like a sharp sting, her heart racing as she tried to grasp the situation. Somewhere deep in her mind, the woman knew the answer. She just couldn't accept it.

Anastasia felt a tear roll down her cheeks as she realised she had been misled. She had trusted Diego, believing he was her ally. But now, it was as clear as day he had been leading her into a trap.

She couldn't understand why he would do this to her. She knew he had mentioned a nearby camp when they first met, but the woman hadn't connected the dots until the evidence was right at her nose. And she couldn't deny the facts anymore.

Anastasia glared at Marc, "You're lucky I'm injured."

"Why's that?"

"If I had more energy, I'd snap you in half."

"You're bold," Marc grinned, watching her struggle. "Talking to someone like that. You know I'm the reason you're still alive, right?"

At that, Anastasia scoffed, the adrenaline coursing through her veins. She felt a sudden rush as she glowered at the man, her fists balling up. "I'd rather be dead!"

"Watch what you wish for," Elliot said as he cornered the tent, entering seconds after. The woman's heart jolted, his presence knocking the air out of her lungs. His expression was grim, "I could easily finish what we've started, love."

"Fuck you!"

"Oh, gladly."

Diego spoke up, "Enough! You all act like five-year-olds." He then turned to Elliot and warned him, "Don't you dare lay a finger on my sister, got it?"

"I won't touch her. Not unless she begs me to."

"I'll never do that."

"Challenge accepted."

"Stop!" Diego intervened, trying to diffuse the situation with little success. "We need to focus on getting Ana the medical attention she needs, not on fighting each other."

"Right, because you suddenly care."

"I do!"

"You brought me back here," Anastasia said simply, the thought an unwelcome grit in her stomach. She breathed deeply, her hands shaking as she elaborated, "If you truly cared, you wouldn't have betrayed me in the first place."

Elliot sneered at her, his voice venomous to hide the underlying guilt. "Instead of complaining, you should be glad we talked Luc down. He would have served you as dinner if it wasn't for our intervention."

The woman went cold with disbelief, feeling her windpipe closing. It was as if a snake had found its way around her throat, coiling and squeezing until she couldn't breathe anymore. But she found her voice despite the odds and let out an angry howl. "You expect me to be grateful for your half-hearted attempt to save me from being eaten? From being chopped up like a fucking chicken? Are you clinically insane?! If it weren't for your idea to bring me to this cesspit, I wouldn't even be in this mess!"

"You know what?" Marc snapped, tired of the bickering. "On second thought, maybe Luc was right. We should have let him do his job so we wouldn't hear you whining like a pig."

"No," Anastasia said bitterly, her gaze unflinching despite the weight of her words. "You should have left me in the warehouse. At least I'd remember my brother as the person he used to be. Someone I could trust and rely on. Not the monster he has become."

━━━━━

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀FOR the most part, the afternoon was silent. Anastasia exchanged occasional glares with Diego and Marc, but nobody said a thing. They already knew she hated their guts; she made it clear. And so she sat on the bed while Mercy tended to her wound, the cold touch of her fingers sending shivers down her spine.

The room they were in now was identical to where she'd been held captive. Its violent memory made the woman's heart race; she didn't want another round of capture-the-prey. Even the thought dotted her skin with goosebumps, spreading through her body like a poisonous gas. She hated the feeling it brought forth. When would it stop?

The silence was deafening. And then, a soft plink. Anastasia's head snapped toward the sound.

"There, all done," Mercy said, cutting away at the adhesive. She discarded the bloody gauze and cotton wool on a silver tray. Plink. "Your wound should heal quickly. If you experience discomfort, you can take some painkillers to alleviate the pain."

"Thank you," Anastasia croaked. "I don't think I'll need them, though. I'll survive."

"Okay. Let me know if you change your mind."

Before the woman could respond, the door to the room opened with a loud creak. A tall figure stepped in, his untamed locks shielding half his face. The man commanded attention with his presence, and his muscles flexed under the lamplight as he looked at Marc.

"Some weapons are missing from storage," he said impassively. "Did you take them?"

Marc cocked his head to the side. "No, of course not. You know I always ask first."

"Shit. We need to be careful."

"Do you want me to take care of it?"

"No, it's fine. You already seem pretty busy."

"I'm not," Marc insisted. "Luc, let me help you."

"I could come with you," Diego offered suddenly. Anastasia felt her heart jolt at his proposal, and though she blazed with fury at the thought of his recent actions, she didn't want him to go. What if it was dangerous? Damn him and her concerns.

Luc hesitated for a moment before nodding his head. "Alright, you can come with me. But we need to be quick." He turned to Mercy, "Could you find Elliot and tell him to join us as soon as possible?"

"Sure. Anything you need."

"Thanks, Mercedes."

Diego warned Anastasia, "Stay here. No funny business. I'll come back for you."

She didn't respond. She remained silent, finding solace in the peacefulness that came with the absence of words. There wasn't much to say anyway. And as she watched them leave the room in a hurry, her mind raced with questions. What were they looking for? Who took the weapons? And why was Diego suddenly so eager to help? She knew she couldn't just sit around and wait for answers, so she decided to follow them.

As Anastasia made her way through the dimly lit corridors, she kept her distance from the group, careful not to alert them to her presence. She heard whispers and muffled voices ahead of her, and she quickened her pace, eager to catch up.

Eventually, she arrived at a small room by the end of a narrow, two-way hallway. The door was slightly ajar, and she could hear hushed voices from within. She crept closer, her heart pounding in her chest, and peered through the gap.

Before she could see anything, she felt two arms enfolding her body, eyes wide with horror. Like an old companion, the panic seized her. Instinctively, she tried to scream for help, but a hand quickly covered her mouth, the grip tight like a snake's constriction. No matter how hard she struggled, she couldn't break free. She attempted to look at her attacker fruitlessly, and a shushing sound met her ears.

"Quiet," a voice whispered, and she recognised it as Elliot's. The proximity of his body ignited a mixture of emotions within her. He relaxed his grasp and turned her around, warning, "Don't make a sound."

"What are you doing?" Anastasia asked, her voice barely audible. Their eyes locked, the intensity of their gaze creating a tense atmosphere. "Why are you sneaking up on me?"

"I could ask you the same," Elliot teased, nodding towards the door. Then, his expression went grim. "There's been an attack. Someone stole our weapons and is wreaking havoc in the camp."

"Why the hell would they do that?"

"My bet is on Infected."

"What?!"

"I think they got bitten."

Anastasia's heart sank at the mention of those creatures. She knew how dangerous they could be, and the thought of even one of them running around the camp with stolen weapons was enough to send chills down her spine. If the rumours were true, it'd mean someone was changing and possibly spreading the infection further.

"What can we do?" she asked frantically, trying to keep her voice steady.

Elliot took a deep breath. "We need to find the weapons and stop whoever's doing this. We also need to be on the lookout for any signs of infection. If anyone's bitten, we need to isolate them immediately."

Anastasia nodded, her mind already racing with plans. She couldn't believe she was about to work with the enemy, but she knew the situation was too grave to allow their differences to get in the way.

"I'll check the perimeter," she said. "Maybe I can find some clues or tracks."

"You don't even know how big the camp is," Elliot said, sceptical.

"Does it matter right now? We both want the same thing, to survive. We need to focus on that. And if I can work with you, so can you."

The man sighed. "Fine. I'll rally the others and start a search party. But we need to move fast."

"Let's go."

And with that, they both turned and hurried out of the building, determined to stop the attack. They quickly exchanged a look before going their separate ways. As Anastasia navigated the camp, she kept a sharp eye out for any signs of disturbance, her thoughts still vying for domination. She felt her heart going a million miles an hour.

It didn't take long for her to spot something out of place. As she found the perimeter, she noticed part of the fence had been trampled and uprooted. It seemed as though someone deliberately made a hole for the Infected to pass through. Anastasia approached cautiously, her eyes scanning the ground for something sharp. She could only grab a spear-shaped branch—not the best weapon for defence, but still better than nothing. Or so she hoped.

As the woman drew closer to the gap, she heard a faint noise from the other side of the fence. It was a low growling sound, something feral with hunger, and she felt waves of dread run up and down her spine. Despite her stomach lifting with anticipation, she peered through to see a group of Infected milling about, their mindless journey startling her. Shit.

Anastasia slowly backed away from the fence, trying to lower her exposure when she accidentally stepped on a decaying twig. The snapping sound was immediate, and it gave her presence away. The creatures turned in sync, their eyes fixed on her. It was a deadly stare, the calm before the storm. There was a momentary silence. And then they let out a collective howl and launched forward to attack.

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⋆˚★ ~

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1. ⠀ AUTHOR'S NOTE.

So, Anastasia is in trouble. And a lot of it. 

Apologies for this chapter being a lot shorter than the previous one! I tried to add bits here and there to make it as long as possible, but if I'd tweaked it any further, it would've fallen apart entirely. I feel there is a point where you need to stop editing before the story becomes inconsistent, and unfortunately, we've reached that around 3.1K words. 

What did you think? Any new thoughts on the characters? What about Diego? Do you have any ideas what will happen next? Please let me know! I've spent ages planning it all out, so your feedback means the absolute world to me. 

Thank you so much for your support! Anastasia's journey wouldn't be the same without you. See you all in chapter three! ♡