LOVE ON THE ZOMBIE TRAIN

The stillness was haunting.

For the first time in days, no groans echoed through the train, no blood smears marked the floor freshly, and no one was screaming. But still—Car 8 was anything but peaceful. Silence could be dangerous. Silence gave you time to remember.

Asher sat cross-legged near the front of the car, sharpening the edge of a broken metal pipe with smooth, practiced motions. Ethan stood across from him, re-checking the makeshift barricade they'd placed against the sliding doors. Between them, on a pile of bundled coats and bags, Mia played quietly, humming to herself as she drew crayon portraits on the back of ration packets.

She'd drawn herself again, this time with two taller stick figures—one labeled "Dad" and the other "Daddy" in squiggly handwriting. Above their heads: a big sun and a heart.

Asher noticed it and his hands paused on the blade.

"She's drawing us again," he murmured.

Ethan looked up, then softened. "Yeah... I think we've been promoted."

Asher chuckled, but there was a rawness beneath it. The kind of laugh that carries pain beneath the smile.

Across the car, Casey and Max—one of the last surviving couples—had taken up guard duty at the rear. Max, the stronger of the two, had insisted on staying vigilant. Casey, ever-stubborn, had refused to let him stand alone.

"We work better together," she had told him, brushing her fingers against his. "Always have."

They'd been quietly sweet throughout the nightmare, offering each other comfort and keeping the younger passengers sane. Mia had taken a liking to Casey in particular—often asking her for extra hair ribbons or help with braiding.

But that morning, something changed.

A rustle.

A sound so soft it might've been nothing—but Max heard it.

He looked through the crack in the rear emergency door. A shadow. Fast. Then another.

His heart dropped.

He turned to Casey. "Get ready."

"What—?"

Before she could finish, the door slammed open.

A horde didn't pour in. Not yet.

But one thing did.

A zombie. Fast. Blood-slick. Hungry.

Its eyes were blank, but its mouth dripped with anticipation.

Max didn't think. He grabbed the closest weapon—a broken extinguisher—and shoved Casey back.

"Run!"

She stumbled. "Max, no—!"

It leapt toward them.

He shoved her clear and tackled the infected creature, wrestling it to the ground with sheer instinct. The others heard the crash and came running Asher and Ethan first, then Jason with his reinforced baton.

"MAX!" Casey screamed.

By the time they arrived, Max had the creature pinned—but blood was already flowing from his neck. His breathing was ragged. His grip was faltering.

He looked up at Casey, smiling through the pain.

"You'll be okay," he said. "I made sure."

Ethan raised his bat, ready to finish it—but Max gave a tiny nod.

"I've got this. You protect her now."

Asher grabbed Casey and pulled her away just before Ethan brought his weapon down.

The sickening crack of bone. The lifeless collapse of flesh. The silence after.

Max's body lay still.

Casey collapsed next to him, sobbing.

Mia watched in confusion, her little fingers clutching the bunny Asher had stitched together from socks.

"Why is Casey crying?" she asked softly.

Asher knelt beside her, heart heavy. "Her special friend had to go be a hero."

"Like my mom?"

He nodded. "Exactly like her."

Mia sniffed, curling against him.

"Why do heroes always leave?"

Later, they wrapped Max's body carefully and carried him to the sealed-off end of the train, where the other lost passengers rested. It was becoming a shrine of sorts—a graveyard on rails. Casey stayed behind as Jason sealed the door again.

"I loved him," she whispered to Asher. "Even if I never said it out loud, I did. He made me believe we had a chance."

"You still do," Ethan said gently. "Because of him."

She nodded faintly, but her eyes were empty.

The group returned to Car 8 in heavy silence.

Asher noticed Mia sitting away from the others this time, her bunny in her lap, her drawing forgotten. She was staring at her feet.

"Hey," he said, approaching gently. "Wanna help me fix the map?"

She shook her head.

Ethan came over too, crouching beside her.

"What's wrong, little star?"

"I miss Mommy," she whispered.

Asher swallowed. The way she said it—soft, ashamed, like missing her mother was a weakness—broke something inside him.

"I thought being with you meant I wouldn't feel sad anymore," she said.

Ethan reached for her hand. "Being sad doesn't mean you're not loved."

"It just means you love someone who's not here," Asher added.

Mia's lip quivered. "I don't want to forget her."

"You won't," Asher said. "And we'll help you remember the good parts. The happy parts."

She looked up. "Can we draw her?"

"Of course."

Together, they sat down at the far end of the car with a stack of paper scraps, half-used crayons, and a flashlight for extra light. Asher sketched a tall woman with long hair. Mia added hearts and tiny baby bumps for the belly. Ethan labeled it: "MOMMY: HERO."

She smiled through tears.

Then they drew Max.

Then Mia drew her "family" again—only this time, she added Jason, Sienna, Jordy, and Leo too. All holding hands, all surrounded by stars.

When Ethan pointed to one of the stars and asked what it was, she said, "It's to protect us from the dark."

Later that evening, while the group ate cold beans and shared filtered water, Mia clung to Ethan's side.

She whispered something in his ear.

Ethan blinked.

"She wants a lullaby," he told Asher quietly.

Asher tilted his head. "Since when you can sing?"

"I can't," Ethan muttered. "But I know a baseball chant my mom used to turn into a lullaby. It might work."

He took a deep breath, then began to hum, voice low and gruff but steady. Asher joined in by clapping softly.

Mia leaned her head on Ethan's shoulder and slowly closed her eyes.

By the time the second chorus came around, she was asleep.

They sat together like that—silent protectors in the night.

Jason came by with a weak smile. "She called you both 'Dad' again."

Asher smiled faintly. "I noticed."

"She's really yours now, huh?"

Ethan looked down at the sleeping child. "She always was."

Jason nodded and walked off, his eyes softer than usual.

As the night deepened, the train pressed forward into darkness.

Another soul had been lost. Another scar added to their hearts.

But in the arms of two people who never expected to become parents in a zombie apocalypse, a little girl slept peacefully.

And for tonight...That was enough.