TWO

THEO

THE FALL

There’s no way out but through them. I nod at Farron, eyes darting between her and the advancing horde. I feel the vibration of Kenji’s footfalls as he steps beside me, his face grim. I grip my machete tighter, glancing at the others. Farron, Kenji, and Adrian are armed with only their combat knives, the blades small but deadly in close quarters. The horde is pressing in, bodies piling up in front of the doorway, their rotting hands reaching out, eager to tear us apart.

The cafeteria quickly devolves into a chaotic nightmare of thrashing bodies and the rancid stench of decay. My machete cuts through the rotting flesh, every swing meeting bone with a sickening crunch that vibrates up my arms, sending shivers through my body. Blood—dark and thick—splashes across my face, and I barely blink as it runs down into my eyes, mixing with the sweat pouring from my skin. I rush to wipe my arm across my glasses, trying to clean off as much blood as I can, even though it only smears it further.

Farron plunges her knife into a zombie’s neck, twisting it with brutal force. The flesh gives way, and a spurt of thick, black blood sprays across the floor as the creature’s head lolls to the side, barely hanging on. It falls, but another takes its place, hands groping blindly at her. Before I can reach her, Kenji grabs the thing by its matted hair and yanks its head back, exposing its throat. He drives his blade deep into its jugular, blood spurting out as the knife sinks in, before pulling it out and stabbing it one more time, right between the eyes.

I swing my machete again, harder this time, nearly cleaving a zombie’s head clean off. The skin, half-decayed, peels back like paper, exposing the yellowed bone beneath. Its body convulses, twitching on the ground as I kick it aside. My breath comes in choked breaths, and I can feel my muscles burning from the effort, but I keep going. I have to.

Adrian is beside me, his knife plunging deep into the chest of a zombie, but he’s forced to yank it out with a savage twist, black bile oozing from the wound. His face is twisted in fury, the strain of keeping up the constant attack clear. He spins around to me, his mouth wide open, screaming, but I can’t hear him. His expression is desperate and urgent, but the chaos around us is silent to me, a world muted by my deafness.

I blink, confused for a split second, trying to read his lips. Before I can react, Kenji suddenly bolts forward in a blur of motion. His arms wrap around me, tackling me to the ground with brutal force. My body hits the floor hard, pain shooting through my ribs, knocking the wind from me. Just as I hit the ground, I feel the vibration— a deep, rumbling crash —as a huge slab of the ceiling collapses right where I had been standing.

Dust and debris rain down around us, filling the air with a choking cloud of dirt and rot. My vision blurs for a second, adrenaline pounding in my veins, my heart racing. Kenji is already pulling me to my feet, his hands signing frantically as we scramble to get up. “We have to move! MOVE!”

I don’t need more convincing. The opening we carved is small, but it’s enough. I grab Kenji by the arm, pulling him with me as we lunge for the exit. Adrian is already there, panting, his knife dripping with blood, his eyes wide with horror as he watches the ceiling continue to buckle under the weight of the building’s rot.

Farron makes a break for the door, her boots slipping on the slick, blood-soaked floor as she dodges the last of the zombies. She stabs one through the eye socket, the blade sinking deep into the skull before she rips it free, blackened goo trailing in her wake. She’s out the door, barely sparing a glance as Kenji and I follow.

The moment we’re clear of the cafeteria, we don’t stop running. We tear through the dim hallways of the hospital, our footsteps pounding against the cracked tiles beneath us. We leave the zombies behind us, not even turning to check if a single one is following.

We burst through the entrance, the cool November air hitting my face like a slap. My lungs burn, struggling to catch up with my racing heart. But I barely have time to process the relief of escaping before my eyes land on our horses, still waiting where we left them, tied to a post near the side of the building. They’re skittish, hooves stamping nervously against the ground as if they, too, can feel the tension in the air.

My legs give out, and I collapse to the ground, the cold dirt seeping through my pants. I drape my arm over my eyes, blocking out the harsh, bright sky as I try to focus on calming my breathing. I wheeze as I gulp down cold air, the adrenaline making my hands shake. I can still feel the tremors in my muscles from the run, but I know we don’t have time to rest for long.

After what feels like an eternity, my heartbeat slows enough for me to sit up. My eyes immediately scan the others, moving from one face to the next, checking for any signs of injury. Adrian looks pale, but he’s steady on his feet. Farron’s expression is hard to read, but she’s standing tall. It’s Kenji that worries me.

That pinch between his eyebrows has me on edge.

It’s the look he gets when something’s wrong.

I wave my hand to get his attention and ask, “What’s wrong?” He shakes his head, the gesture dismissive but unconvincing. “Kenji, you have that look on your face. What is it?”

He heaves out a big sigh, and I watch as his right hand comes up to his left shoulder. His fingers press against it, and the sharp wince that follows says it all. I immediately shift to my knees, about to reach for him, but he nods toward Adrian instead. Adrian’s already moving, his expression serious as he helps Kenji peel off his jacket, being extra careful with his left arm. The moment the jacket slips off, the difference between his shoulders is glaring. His left one is sloped awkwardly, the joint clearly out of place beneath his tight, long-sleeved shirt, creating a strange divot.

“It’s dislocated,” Farron says, Adrian quickly moving further into my line of vision and interpreting for me. “Holden…” she trails off for a moment before catching herself. “Holden used to play football in high school. He dislocated his shoulder twice. I can get it back into place now and then take a look at it when we get back to Rolling Hills.”

I can see Kenji let out a scoff before he speaks, “Is that when you’re going to tell us what the hell is going on and why you just took off?”

Farron’s head snaps up, her eyes blazing with anger. “Don’t speak to me like that, Kenji. I don’t owe you anything.” Adrian stiffens beside me, his hands translating with tight, jerky movements. I flinch, and I’m not even the one they’re directed at.

Kenji’s face hardens, his jaw clenched tight. “You don’t owe us anything?” Kenji asks. “Sure, Farron. You owe us nothing. We’re nothing. But Theo could have just died in there if I hadn’t gotten him out of the way before that ceiling collapsed. All because we were worried about you. So maybe you don’t give a shit, but we do.”

“Kenji—” Farron starts, but he immediately cuts her off.

“Just get my shoulder into place, and let’s get back home, Farron,” he says as he turns his head away, unwilling to look at her.

Farron doesn’t say anything more, but her lips press into a thin line. She grabs Kenji’s arm, careful but firm, and pulls it out straight. I watch her work, her hands steady as she puts tension on his forearm and pushes to put the ball back into the joint. Kenji’s face twists in pain as she pops the shoulder back into place, but he doesn’t open his mouth to make any sound. As soon as it’s done, he snatches his jacket from the ground, roughly and awkwardly pulls it back on, and mounts his horse without a word.

Farron swings up onto EJ, her expression unreadable, but I can see the tightness in her jaw, the way her hands shake ever so slightly as she grips the reins. Adrian mounts his horse next, his face pale and drawn, lips moving as he mutters something under his breath, too quiet for the other two to catch. Or maybe they’re just ignoring him. I follow suit, climbing onto my horse and glancing over at Kenji. He gives me a stiff nod, his face smeared with blood and grime, but there’s a hardness in his eyes that wasn’t there before.

As we ride away from the hospital, the cold wind whipping past us, my mind starts to spiral.

By nature, I’m not a very angry person. I tend to sit on my emotions and let them fester while I attempt to disassemble the threads of yarn in my chest and figure out how I really feel. My birth mom raised me for years on her own before her passing, making sacrifice after sacrifice to give me the best childhood she could. She showed me endless patience as we maneuvered through life, figuring out how to do certain things together, especially when it came to my Deafness. If she ever got overwhelmed or frustrated, she never once displayed that in my presence.

She was a model of calm in the storm, and I learned to mirror that.

After her passing, when I moved in with Kenji and Momma Suzie, I only ever saw bouts of patience. Patience as they learned to speak American Sign Language, patience as they made changes in their day-to-day lives to help accommodate me better, and patience as they dealt with a young boy who had lost his mom at such a young age.

All I’ve ever known is patience.

So, by nature, I’m not a very angry person.

And yet, I find myself angry right now—angrier than I’ve been in a long time. I felt my gut churn as Kenji and I approached Adrian earlier this morning, only to see Farron taking off on EJ, heading away from Rolling Hills on her own without a word to anyone. Fear immediately overtook me, making me worry about where she could be. The fear only festered and grew as we searched for her, only to explode into every cell of my body when we finally found her the way we did.

But now? Now that we’ve found her, now that we know she’s safe? Now, all I feel is anger. Anger that she took off without speaking to us at all, making us worry about her the way we did. Anger that she clearly doesn’t seem to trust us enough to open up about what the hell Holden has to do with what’s happened this morning. Anger that she would ever say she doesn’t owe us anything.

I mean… She doesn’t owe us anything. That much is true.

But I thought… I thought we were building something, something real. When she ran off last night, I convinced myself she just needed some space, that it was nothing serious. But now? Now I’m not so sure. Maybe this is just her way of showing us that whatever we’re feeling… it’s not quite so mutual.

And that thought, that realization , makes me angrier than anything else. Because we could’ve lost her today, and I don’t know if she even cares.