" The Brace of Shadows"

Morning light trickled into the ruined wall cracks to flood the makeshift safe zone he had spent his night in. His body ached; every muscle was sore, from all that had happened the day before. He slowly sat up, his mind replaying events: the horde, enhancements, and the life-saving bracelet.

His stomach growled, an angry reminder of how long it had been since he'd eaten.

Damn it. I eaten last night but still it feels like i didn't eaten for a few days... anyways let's get moving .

Getting his feet under him, Alex started to look better around this zone. He had walked around and seen a small storage room he had been in the night before; old crates and shelves lined the walls, but most were empty, their contents long since scavenged.

An hour of searching and all that he could find was half a bottle of water and a map of the city. Looking better and matching against his old one, that was now torn to pieces. He tried to piece them together with the new map that was brittle and smudged and he could make out some key landmarks. So after all this work his eyes fell upon a location that was circled in red: Storehouse 17B. The annotation next to it read, Supplies—Unconfirmed.

As he noticed it, he thought that this is it was his only lead.

So, after securing the map-so that future encounters with zombies wouldn't leave him with an incomplete map again, which might put his life in danger and his knife in his hand, Alex tightened the straps and exited the safe zone, feeling a morning sun warm his back.

He began to scan the zone for any wild zombies, but luckily, the streets were eerily quiet-the kind of silence that felt alive, as though the city itself was holding its breath.

Slowly and silently, the journey to the storehouse in store was fortunately without any action. But still Alex moved cautiously, following alleys and shadows that would provide cover. Surprisingly, the map helped him avoid places with large hordes, though he could occasionally hear their hoarse moans in the distance.

As he approached an intersection, he stopped. A figure was in the middle of the street, bent over and peering at something on the ground.

Another zombie? Alex thought, clenching his knife tighter. Yet, something was different. This figure moved with purpose; its motions were deliberate and humanlike.

Alex hesitated, his instincts torn between caution and curiosity. The only living soul he had come across since waking in this ruined city was himself.

The figure suddenly straightened, his head snapping in Alex's direction. It was a man, roughly older than Alex's age, with short, disheveled hair and a lean build. He was dressed in tattered clothes, and his eyes narrowed as they locked onto Alex.

"Hey!" the man whispered, raising a hand as if in a conciliatory gesture.

Alex didn't immediately respond, his grasp of the knife tightening. He harbored many questions: "Who was this man?" and "Could he be trusted?

"I'm not looking for trouble," the man added, taking a cautious step forward. "You alone out here?"

Alex hesitated, then nodded. "Yeah. You?

"Same." The man stood a few feet away from him, his hands up to show he wasn't armed. "Name's Carter."

"Alex."

The two stood still for a moment, as if weighing each other up. Carter's eyes darted toward Alex's wrist, then practically jerked away, dismissed. Alex noticed the glance but didn't think too much about it.

"You headed somewhere?" Carter asked.

"Storehouse 17B," Alex replied cautiously. He wasn't sure why he answered, but the idea of teaming up—even temporarily—felt like a safer bet than venturing on alone.

Carter raised an eyebrow. "That place? Heard it might still have supplies, but it's crawling with things that'd tear you apart. You sure about this?"

"I don't have much of a choice," Alex said. "No food, and I'm running low on water." But how did you find that is not secured? Did you encounter any human before me?

Carter sighed, massaging the back of his neck. Yeah, i did, but sadly we couldn't get along because of different choices, so we had to split up along the road. So yeah, here I am who also kinda thinking what to do, really, so what do you think? Mind if I tag alongside? Safety in numbers and shit.

Alex hesitated. In a world like this, trusting a stranger was a recipe for disaster, but so was traveling alone. After a moment, he nodded. "Fine. But we stick to the map and keep quiet. Deal?"

"Deal," said Carter, smiling slightly.

---

The two went together, sometimes in ruined streets, their progress slow but sure. They spoke in hushed whispers and hand signals, avoiding trouble wherever possible.

Alex noted how unusually agile Carter was, his movements articulate and short. It reminded Alex of enhancements that he had used the previous night, but he pushed the thoughts aside-he couldn't Have it too. Right? Plus that anyone who lasted this long had to be resourceful. They had to stop at the edge of an overgrown parking lot as they approached the storehouse. The building was looming ahead, its metal doors ajar. Carter bent his knees as he looked around beside Alex. "Doesn't look like there's anyone-or anything-out here. But inside might be a different story." Alex nodded, his hand rubbing against his bracelet, and tightened his grip on the knife. He didn't activate an enhancement yet, not wanting to reveal it if he didn't really have to. Better to be on the safe part than feel sorry later! The two crept toward the storehouse, their footsteps silent on the cracked pavement. As they reached the entrance, Alex felt a strange, almost magnetic pull from his wrist. He looked over at Carter and found the man rubbing his own wrist absent-mindedly, as if drawn by the same sensation. Neither of them said a word, but a chill ran down Alex's spine. Something connected them, even if neither of them knew it as of yet. For now, the priority was survival-and whatever waited for them inside the storehouse.