The sun rose sluggishly over a crumbling skyline, casting golden light on the skeletal remains of London. Once-bustling streets were choked with debris: abandoned black cabs, double-decker buses, and rusting bicycles leaned against storefronts now boarded or shattered. Ivy crawled up the facades of ancient buildings, reclaiming them as nature's own.
Aiden O'Connor who is 24 years old, moved carefully along the cracked pavement of what had once been a lively high street. His boots crunched softly on broken glass, the only sound in the oppressive silence. The rifle slung over his shoulder shifted slightly as he stopped to scan the area, his eyes darting between the darkened windows and the shadowed alleyways.
Aiden: "Stay close," he said over his shoulder.
Behind him, Ruben who is 12 years old, shuffled along, dragging a nail-studded cricket bat across the ground. The nails scratched against the pavement, their sharp screech echoing off the crumbling shopfronts. Aiden turned, his expression hard.
Aiden: "Lift it, Ruben. You want to broadcast where we are?"
(Ruben sighed, hefting the bat)
Ruben: "There's no one around to hear it," he muttered, his voice tinged with defiance.
(Aiden frowned and gestured to the world around them)
Aiden: "You don't know that. Walkers, survivors, doesn't matter—danger is around every corner."
As they passed an abandoned café, its sign swinging lazily in the breeze, Ruben stumbled over a cracked bit of pavement, the bat clattering against the ground. The noise echoed unnervingly, and both brothers froze. From somewhere distant, a low, guttural groan carried through the streets. Aiden's hand instinctively moved to his rifle as he scanned their surroundings.
Aiden: "Get ready," he whispered.
Ruben clutched the bat, his knuckles white. But after a tense moment, the sound faded, and the street returned to its eerie silence. Aiden exhaled slowly, his shoulders relaxing.
Aiden: "Careful where you step," he said.
(Ruben nodded wordlessly, his face pale)
The brothers moved on, weaving through the wreckage. They passed an iconic red phone booth, its glass shattered, and a bus stop covered in faded posters for long-forgotten West End shows. The air carried a faint stench of decay.
(Ruben spoke hesitantly)
Ruben: "Do you think it's like this… everywhere?"
Aiden glanced at him but didn't answer right away. Instead, he gestured for Ruben to follow him down a narrow alley.
Aiden: "It doesn't matter," he said eventually. "What matters is staying alive. Keep moving."
Ruben frowned, his eyes lingering on a rusting lamppost where a faded flyer for a missing person still clung. The name and face were nearly unreadable, but the desperation behind it was unmistakable. Emerging from the alley, they found themselves in a small square. The remains of a community market were strewn across the cobblestones—overturned stalls, abandoned crates, and a few scattered bones. The square was unnervingly quiet. Aiden crouched near a stall, inspecting a half-empty crate of canned goods. He pocketed a can of beans and handed another to Ruben.
Aiden: "Keep this," he said. "Might be the last thing we find for a while."
As Ruben tucked the can into his bag, a sound broke the stillness—a shuffle, followed by a low groan. Aiden turned sharply, raising a hand to silence Ruben. From behind a toppled fruit stand, a lone walker staggered into view. Its clothes were tattered, and its face was a grotesque mask of decay. Aiden lowered his rifle and turned to Ruben.
Aiden: "Your turn."
Ruben: "What?" his voice cracked.
Aiden: "You heard me. Take it out," Aiden said, gesturing to the walker with his chin. "Use the bat. It's quieter."
Ruben hesitated, his hands shaking as he gripped the cricket bat.
Ruben: "What if I miss?"
Aiden: "You won't," Aiden said firmly. "Just aim for the head."
The walker lurched toward them, its groans growing louder. Ruben swallowed hard and stepped forward, his legs trembling. The walker lunged, and Ruben swung the bat clumsily. It struck the walker's shoulder, barely knocking it off balance. Ruben panicked, stumbling back as the walker closed the gap.
Aiden: "Focus!" he barked.
Ruben steadied himself, adjusted his grip, and swung again. The bat connected with a sickening crack, the nails sinking deep into the walker's skull. It collapsed in a heap, twitching briefly before falling still. Ruben stared at the body, his chest heaving.
Ruben: "That… was disgusting," he muttered.
(Aiden walked over and placed a hand on Ruben's shoulder)
Aiden: "Yeah. But you did it. Next time, don't hesitate."
(Ruben nodded weakly, wiping the bat on the walker's clothes)
As the brothers left the square, the sun climbed higher, casting long shadows across the city. Ruben glanced back at the walker's body, his face a mixture of fear and pride. Ahead of him, Aiden walked with purpose, his rifle ready as they disappeared into the maze of London's ruined streets.
Aiden and Ruben have left the market square behind, weaving through a side street lined with cracked brick walls and overgrown hedgerows. The sun is climbing higher now, its warmth doing little to dispel the chill of the morning air. The faint buzz of flies lingers in the air, mingled with the distant scent of rot. Ruben speaks, breaking the silence
Ruben: "Do you think we'll find anyone else? You know… people like us?"
(Aiden doesn't answer immediately, his sharp eyes scanning their surroundings. Finally, he shrugs)
Aiden: "Maybe. But people aren't always what you hope for."
Before Ruben can respond, a sudden crack of gunfire shatters the quiet. Ruben freezes, wide-eyed, while Aiden instinctively ducks, gripping his rifle tightly.
Ruben: "What was that?" he whispers.
Aiden: "Gunshots," he responds, his tone low and sharp.
Another burst of gunfire echoes from somewhere beyond the rows of terraced houses, followed by faint shouting. Aiden motions for Ruben to stay close as they move toward the noise. the brothers round a corner and find themselves looking at a narrow alley that opens into a small courtyard. The space is surrounded by rusting fences and the remains of a brick building, its windows shattered. In the centre, four survivors are fighting off a small herd of walkers closing in on their makeshift camp.
A young woman, Maya Delgado who is 28 years old, stands near a half-collapsed wall, firing a pistol at the approaching walkers. Her aim is precise but frantic, her breathing labored.
Eli Price who is 36 years old, a broad-shouldered man with a grizzled beard, wields a crowbar, his swings powerful but erratic as he shouts curses at the undead.
Leila Matthews who is 38 years old, calm and calculating, stands back with a rifle, taking methodical shots that drop walkers one by one.
Jasper "Jax" Harper who is 24 years old the youngest of the group, looks panicked as he swings a rusting wrench, missing a walker by inches.
(Ruben grabs Aiden's arm)
Ruben: "Should we help them?"
Aiden's expression is unreadable as he watches the scene unfold. More walkers emerge from the shadows, drawn by the noise. The survivors are outnumbered.
Ruben: "They're not going to make it," Ruben says, his voice rising with urgency.
(Aiden places a firm hand on Ruben's shoulder)
Aiden: "Stay here. Don't move."
Ruben: "But—"
Aiden: "Stay back," Aiden snaps, cutting him off. He unslings his rifle and steps into the courtyard.
The chaos of the fight is overwhelming—the survivors shouting, the walkers groaning, the crack of gunfire splitting the air. None of them notice Aiden at first as he moves with precision, his rifle raised. The first walker drops with a clean headshot, followed quickly by a second. Aiden fires in quick succession, each bullet finding its mark. Maya glances up, startled by the sudden intervention.
Maya: "Who the hell—?"
Leila: "Focus!" Leila barks, her rifle firing another round.
Aiden moves like a soldier, his steps deliberate and his aim unerring. He closes the distance, pulling a knife from his belt as he reaches the thick of the herd. A walker lunges at him, but he sidesteps, driving the blade into its skull. Eli pauses mid-swing, watching in stunned silence as Aiden dispatches another walker with a brutal strike to the temple.
Eli: "Who the bloody hell is this guy?" he mutters.
Aiden doesn't answer, his focus entirely on the fight. Within moments, the last walker collapses at his feet, leaving the courtyard eerily quiet except for the survivors' heavy breathing. Maya lowers her pistol, staring at Aiden with a mix of suspicion and awe.
Maya: "Thanks for the save," she says cautiously. "But who are you, and what are you doing here?"
Aiden steps back, wiping his knife on the tattered clothes of a fallen walker. He glances toward the alley where Ruben still waits.
Aiden: "Name's Aiden," he says simply. "My little brother and I heard the gunfire. Figured you could use some help."
(Leila studies him carefully, her sharp eyes narrowing)
Leila: "Your little brother? Where is he?"
Aiden gestures toward the alley, and Ruben steps hesitantly into view, clutching his bat. Jax, still catching his breath, gives a small wave.
Jax: "Looks like you brought your baby brother to the apocalypse," Jax says, his tone light despite the tension.
Aiden: "Ruben," Aiden corrects. "And he's tougher than he looks."
(Eli chuckles dryly, leaning on his crowbar)
Eli: "Well, you've got timing, I'll give you that. We were just about done for."
(Maya steps forward, her hand still resting on her pistol)
Maya: "Appreciate the assist, but this isn't exactly a safe place for introductions. We've got more ammo than food, and these things don't stop coming."
(Aiden nods)
Aiden: "Then we should find somewhere safer to talk."
(Leila lowers her rifle but doesn't let her guard down)
Leila: "And why should we trust you?"
Aiden: "You don't have to," Aiden replies evenly. "But you wouldn't still be standing if we hadn't come along."
(The silence lingers for a moment before Maya nods reluctantly)
Maya: "All right. Let's move."
The group gathers what little they have, moving quickly through the ruins of the courtyard. Aiden keeps an eye on the new survivors, his hand never far from his weapon. Ruben lingers behind, glancing at the bloodied ground where the walkers fell.
Ruben: "Think they'll let us stick around?" Ruben whispers.
(Aiden doesn't answer immediately, his gaze fixed on the road ahead)
Aiden: "We'll see," he says finally. "But trust is earned, not given."
The group trudges along a narrow country road on the outskirts of London. The city skyline looms faintly in the distance, softened by the late afternoon haze. Surrounding them are overgrown fields and clusters of houses, their once-neat hedgerows now wild and untamed. The air feels different here—quieter, almost deceptively peaceful. Aiden takes the lead, scanning the area:
Aiden: "We're looking for something small, not too open," he says. "A place we can lock down for the night."
Eli gestures with his crowbar toward a stone cottage up ahead, partially obscured by ivy. Its windows are intact, and the door is solid oak. A small fence encircles the front garden, though it's bent in places.
Eli: "That looks promising," he says.
(Maya squints at the cottage)
Maya: "Promising or a death trap? Hard to tell these days."
(Leila steps forward, her rifle raised)
Leila: "I'll check the perimeter. Jax, stay close."
Jax hesitates but nods, gripping his wrench tightly as he follows Leila around the side of the house. Ruben lingers behind the group, his voice low
Ruben: "Think it's safe?"
(Aiden glances back at him)
Aiden: "It's never safe. But it'll do."
They approach cautiously, Aiden leading the way with his rifle at the ready. He pushes the front gate open slowly, wincing at the loud creak. A faint rustle comes from inside the house, and everyone tenses. Aiden holds up a hand, signalling for silence. He steps onto the porch and tries the door—it's unlocked. He exchanges a glance with Maya, then slowly pushes it open, the hinges groaning in protest. Inside, the air is stale, carrying the faint scent of mildew.
The group moves in cautiously, weapons raised. The interior is eerily untouched: a small living room with dusty furniture, an overturned coffee table, and faded family photos on the walls. Eli speaks in a low voice.
Eli: "I'll check the upstairs."
Maya: "I've got the kitchen," she says, heading toward the back of the house.
(Leila and Jax return from their sweep of the perimeter. Leila nods curtly)
Leila: "No signs of walkers outside. Looks like this place hasn't been touched in years."
(Ruben stands near the doorway, gripping his bat tightly)
Ruben: "What if there's something hiding?"
(Aiden places a hand on his shoulder)
Aiden: "Then we deal with it. Just stay close."
(After a few tense moments, the group reconvenes in the living room)
Eli: "All clear," he says, descending the stairs. "No surprises up there. Bedrooms are intact."
(Maya returns from the kitchen, holding a half-empty water bottle and a rusted can opener)
Maya: "Not much in the way of supplies, but it'll keep us off the streets."
(Leila secures the front door with a heavy chair)
Leila: "It'll do for tonight. We'll take shifts on watch."
The group settles into the living room. Aiden stands near the window, keeping watch, while Ruben sinks onto an old armchair, visibly exhausted. The others sit or lean against the walls, their weapons within arm's reach. Maya breaks the silence first
Maya: "So Aiden, right?" she says, glancing at him. "Thanks for the assist back there. You really saved our arses."
(Aiden nods but doesn't look away from the window)
Aiden: "Did what needed doing."
Maya: "Right," she says, smirking faintly. "And the kid?" She gestures toward Ruben.
(Ruben perks up slightly)
Ruben: "I'm not a kid. I'm Ruben."
(Jax grins from his spot on the floor)
Jax: "Pretty tough for someone your size, Ruben. I mean, that bat's half your height."
(Ruben scowls but doesn't reply, clutching his bat closer, Leila speaks next, her tone measured)
Leila: "I'm Leila Matthews. Been surviving out here for longer than I'd like to remember." She gestures toward Jax. "This one's Jasper, but we call him Jax. He's... a work in progress."
(Jax rolls his eyes)
Jax: "Cheers for the vote of confidence Leila." He looks at Ruben and Aiden. "I used to be a photographer, back before all this. Guess you could say I'm still documenting history… just without the camera these days."
(Eli clears his throat)
Eli: "I'm Eli Price. Mechanic. Don't know about the rest of you, but I'd kill for a working car. Sick of walking everywhere."
(Maya leans back against the wall, her pistol resting on her lap)
Maya: "I'm Maya Delgado. I was a paramedic. Still patch people up when I can." Her gaze sharpens as she studies Aiden. "You ex-military or something? You don't move like the rest of us."
(Aiden finally turns to face the group)
Aiden: "Used to be," he says simply. "Long time ago. Doesn't matter now."
(Leila raises an eyebrow but doesn't press the issue)
Leila: "And the kid?"
(Ruben speaks up before Aiden can answer)
Ruben: "I'm his brother. And I can handle myself."
(Jax chuckles)
Jax: "I like this kid. Got some fire in him."
(Aiden sighs, rubbing the back of his neck)
Aiden: "We're just trying to get by, same as you. Not looking for trouble."
Maya: "None of us are. But it's better to stick together. Safer that way."
(Leila glances at Aiden)
Leila: "You trust us enough for that?"
(Aiden looks around the room, his gaze lingering on each of them)
Aiden: "We'll see," he says.
The group lapses into silence, the weight of the day settling over them. Outside, the sky darkens, and the faint groans of walkers drift on the wind. Aiden shifts near the window, his rifle at the ready. Ruben curls up in the armchair, clutching his bat like a lifeline. For now, they have shelter. But safety is always temporary.
The room had grown still, the tense atmosphere fading into a fragile calm as the group settled into their temporary refuge. The faint sound of wind whistled through cracks in the walls, and outside, the distant groans of walkers drifted on the night air, too far to pose an immediate threat. Aiden stood by the window, his rifle resting across his lap. His sharp eyes scanned the darkness beyond the glass, his body tense even in the stillness. The others had begun to relax—Leila and Eli whispering quietly about setting up a watch schedule, Maya carefully cleaning her pistol, and Jax idly flipping through a tattered, long-abandoned magazine he'd found on a dusty shelf. Ruben, on the other hand, was curled up in the old armchair near the fireplace. The bat he always carried lay across his lap, his head tilted to the side as his breathing slowed. His exhaustion had caught up with him, and despite the cold, unforgiving world outside, he'd fallen into a restless sleep.
Aiden glanced over at his younger brother, his expression softening ever so slightly. Ruben's grip on the bat had loosened, his small frame looking even smaller as he slumped deeper into the chair. Aiden sighed quietly and stood, slinging his rifle over his back as he crossed the room. He knelt beside the armchair, gently placing a hand on Ruben's shoulder.
Aiden: "Hey," he murmured softly. "You're going to hurt your neck sleeping like that."
Ruben stirred but didn't wake fully, letting out a quiet, unintelligible mumble. Aiden's lips twitched into the faintest semblance of a smile. He carefully slipped an arm under Ruben's legs and the other around his back, lifting his sleeping form with practiced ease. Ruben shifted slightly, instinctively curling closer to Aiden's chest. His head lolled against Aiden's shoulder, and a faint sigh escaped his lips as he settled back into sleep. Aiden glanced down at him, his usual sternness giving way to a quiet protectiveness. Instead of placing Ruben on one of the old couches, Aiden moved to a hard wooden chair in the corner. He lowered himself into it, adjusting Ruben's weight so the boy could rest comfortably on his lap. Ruben's head nestled against Aiden's chest, his arms loosely wrapping around his older brother. Jax, sitting cross-legged on the floor nearby, glanced up and tilted his head, a small, amused smile playing on his lips.
Jax: "Didn't peg you for the soft type," he teased in a low voice.
(Aiden shot him a warning look but didn't reply)
Maya, seated across the room, paused her cleaning to glance at them. Her eyes softened for a brief moment before she looked away, pretending not to notice. Leila, leaning against the wall near the door, said nothing, but her faint nod of approval didn't go unnoticed by Aiden. As the room fell back into silence, Aiden rested his chin lightly against the top of Ruben's head, his gaze distant. The weight of the day settled heavily on his shoulders, but for now, he focused on the steady rhythm of Ruben's breathing—a small, fragile reminder of what he was fighting for.
As the morning came, the group packed quickly, the quiet tension of the morning giving way to urgency. The plan was simple: head toward the village Maya had mentioned, scavenge for supplies, and find a more defensible location to regroup. As they finished gathering their belongings, Leila's voice cut through the low murmur of conversation.
Leila: "Hold up," she said sharply, moving toward the window. Her rifle was already in her hands, her body tense as she scanned the horizon.
Aiden: "What is it?" Aiden asked, moving beside her.
Leila pointed to the overgrown path leading to the cottage. Through the haze of early morning light, shapes began to appear—figures shambling slowly, their movements disjointed and unnatural.
Leila: "Walkers," Leila said grimly. "A herd. They must've caught our scent."
The rest of the group sprang into action, the earlier calm shattered. Maya checked her pistol and gritted her teeth.
Maya: "How many?" she asked.
Leila: "Too many," Leila replied. "We've got maybe five minutes before they're at the door."
(Eli cursed under his breath, gripping his crowbar)
Eli: "No way we're fighting that many. We need to get out of here."
(Aiden's eyes darted around the room, assessing their options. He turned to Ruben)
Aiden: "Stay close to me. You don't move unless I tell you to, understand?"
(Ruben nodded, clutching his bat tightly)
Ruben: "I understand."
Maya: "We can't use the front door," Maya said, her voice clipped. "They'll be on us before we even clear the fence."
(Leila pointed to the back of the house)
Leila: "There's a side door that leads to the fields. If we're fast, we might be able to get ahead of them."
The group moved toward the kitchen, but before they could reach the door, the faint sound of breaking glass echoed from the front of the house. Everyone froze.
Aiden: "They're here," Aiden said darkly.
A loud crash followed, and a walker tumbled through the shattered front window, its decayed hands clawing at the air as it staggered inside. Behind it, more shadows loomed, their guttural groans growing louder. Aiden raised his rifle and fired, the walker dropping instantly. The sound of the shot reverberated through the house, drawing more walkers toward them.
Aiden: "Move!" Aiden barked.
Leila swung the side door open, and the group poured out into the overgrown backyard. The grass was tall and uneven, the ground soft and treacherous underfoot. Maya fired a few shots back into the house, trying to slow the walkers' advance, while Eli swung his crowbar at one that stumbled toward the door.
The group ran toward the fields, the sound of groaning and shuffling feet growing louder behind them. The walkers were relentless, spilling out of the house and into the open.
Maya: "We're too exposed here!" Maya shouted, glancing over her shoulder.
(Aiden scanned the landscape, his sharp eyes locking onto a dense patch of trees, a short distance away which leads away from London)
Aiden: "Head for the treeline!" he commanded.
They sprinted, the tall grass slowing them down, but the walkers were clumsy, their movements hindered by the uneven terrain. As they neared the treeline, Jax stumbled, tripping over a hidden root. He hit the ground hard, his wrench skidding out of reach. A walker closed in on him, its rotting hands reaching for his leg.
Ruben: "Jax!" Ruben shouted, starting to turn back.
(Aiden grabbed Ruben's arm)
Aiden: "Stay back!" he ordered, rushing toward Jax himself.
In one swift motion, Aiden swung his rifle, the butt smashing into the walker's skull and sending it sprawling. He grabbed Jax by the arm, hauling him to his feet.
Aiden: "Move!" Aiden barked.
Jax didn't need to be told twice, grabbing his wrench and scrambling toward the trees. The group reached the treeline, ducking into the shadows of the dense woods. The walkers followed, but the thick undergrowth slowed them down significantly. Aiden motioned for everyone to stop, crouching low behind a fallen log.
Aiden: "Quiet," he whispered, his voice barely audible.
The group held their breath as the walkers stumbled past, their groans fading into the distance. For now, they were safe. As the adrenaline faded, the group took stock of their situation. Ruben leaned against a tree, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.
Jax: "That… was too close," Jax said, his voice shaky.
Leila: "You don't say," Leila replied dryly, her rifle still clutched in her hands.
(Aiden straightened, his gaze shifting between the group)
Aiden: "We can't stop here. We'll find another spot to rest farther in."
(Eli wiped sweat from his brow, muttering under his breath)
Eli: "This just keeps getting better."
(Maya nodded, her expression grim)
Maya: "Let's keep moving. The walkers aren't the only thing out here."
(Aiden glanced at Ruben, his hand resting briefly on his brother's shoulder)
Aiden: "You good?" he asked quietly.
(Ruben nodded, though his hands still trembled slightly)
Ruben: "Yeah. I'm good."
(Aiden gave a small nod and turned back to the group)
Aiden: "Let's move."
As they disappeared deeper into the woods, the faint sound of walkers echoed behind them—a stark reminder that safety was never guaranteed in this world
As the group pressed deeper into the woods, the morning light filtered weakly through the canopy above, casting fractured shadows on the uneven ground. Each step felt heavier than the last, the weight of survival settling back onto their shoulders. Aiden walked at the front, his eyes scanning the path ahead, his rifle steady in his hands. Behind him, Ruben kept close, his bat clutched tightly, the earlier fear in his eyes now replaced with a flicker of resolve. The others followed in silence, their breathing the only sound above the distant groans of walkers. For a moment, the woods felt alive—not with hope, but with the eerie reminder that something always waited in the dark. This world, Aiden thought grimly, wasn't meant for rest. It was a constant test, a brutal reckoning that demanded vigilance and sacrifice. And yet, as his gaze flicked back to Ruben, he felt the faintest flicker of purpose stir within him. As long as they kept moving, there was still a chance. A chance to fight, to survive, to hold onto whatever sliver of humanity they had left. But deep down, Aiden knew—this was only just the beginning of his story.
End of Chapter 1
