Day 4: Survivors

As they approached the abandoned house, Ethan's senses were on high alert. He held up a closed fist, signaling Zoe to wait, then slowly pushed open the door, wincing at its soft creak.

The musty scent of disuse assaulted his nostrils as he entered, his rifle at the ready. Room by room, he cleared the house quickly and silently. The beam of his flashlight cut through the gloom, revealing abandoned furniture and personal effects left behind in haste.

Satisfied that the house was empty, Ethan returned to the entrance and beckoned Zoe inside. She slipped in, Whisper nestled securely in her backpack. Ethan led them to the kitchen, its large windows and multiple exits making it an ideal defensive position.

As Zoe settled Whisper onto a makeshift bed of old dish towels, Ethan pulled some blankets from his pack, arranging them on the floor. The linoleum was cold and hard, but it was far better than sleeping exposed to the elements and the creatures that hunted in the night.

Just as they were getting settled, a sound from outside made them freeze. Ethan's hand flew to his rifle, eyes locked on the kitchen door. Footsteps, multiple sets, approaching the house. He glanced at Zoe, she was getting her sketchpad from her bag, clearly oblivious.

Motioning for her to stay put, he crept towards the front of the house, his movements silent and deliberate. Through a crack in the curtains, he caught sight of a group of people huddled together. Among them, a familiar face that made Ethan's heart leap – Mike.

For a moment, Ethan wrestled with indecision. These were survivors, people in need. But they were also potential threats, unknowns in a world where trust could get you killed.

In the end, humanity won out. Ethan opened the door, causing the group to start in surprise. "Inside," he whispered urgently, "quickly and quietly."

The group filed in, their eyes wide with wariness. Ethan did a quick head count – six in total, including Mike. He led them to the kitchen, positioning himself between the newcomers and Zoe.

As they settled in, the skies opened up. Rain began to pour down, a steady drumming against the roof and windows. Ethan felt some of the tension leave his body. The rain would mask their voices, allowing them to speak more freely than they had in days.

"The rain creates a consistent ambient noise," Ethan explained, his voice low but no longer a whisper. "It'll make it harder for the creatures to pick up on small sounds. We can talk, but keep your voices down."

The a sigh of relief sounded out. Mike was the first to speak up, his familiar booming voice now a hoarse whisper. "Ethan, my God, I never thought I'd see you again."

Ethan allowed himself a small smile. "Likewise, old friend. Glad to see you made it."

Mike glanced around the room, his eyes landing on Zoe. "And you must be Zoe. Your uncle talked about you often."

Zoe, usually so guarded, offered a tentative smile in return.

What went on was Mike going through a round of introductions which was soon cut short by one of the other survivors, a stern-faced woman with graying hair. "As touching as this reunion is, we have more pressing matters to discuss. Like what the hell is going on, and how we're going to survive it. And is this extraction point at the marina even legit?"

Ethan shrugged, his eyes never stopping their constant scan of the room and its exits. "It's the best lead we've got. Heard it straight from a military chopper."

Margaret, the stern older woman, scoffed. "And you trust them? The same military that abandoned us?"

"They didn't abandon us," the young man with wild eyes - who had introduced himself as Timothy - interjected. "This is God's will. The rapture has come, and we're-"

"Oh, shut it with that religious nonsense," snapped the older gentleman, Arthur. "If you ask me, this has extraterrestrial written all over it. Think about it - they're clearly not of this world."

Ethan held up a hand, silencing the brewing argument. "Look, we don't know what they are or where they came from. What matters is surviving them."

The young couple, Sara and Jack, had been quiet up until now. Sara spoke up, her voice trembling slightly. "But how? How do we survive something that seems... invincible?"

Ethan's gaze softened as he looked at the frightened couple. "We adapt. We learn. We stay quiet."

Mike nodded, backing up his friend. "Ethan's right. And having an ex-Army Ranger on our side doesn't hurt either."

"Ex-Army Ranger?" Arthur's eyebrows shot up. "Well, why didn't you say so earlier? Surely you must have some inside information. What's the government's plan? Are there any safe zones?"

Ethan sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I've been out for years. I don't have any more information than you do. But Joint Base Lewis-McChord is nearby and likely military operations are being ran from there."

"Lewis-McChord?" Jack perked up. "I have... a cousin stationed there."

A soft meow interrupted the conversation. All eyes turned to Whisper, who had emerged from Zoe's backpack and was stretching languidly.

Margaret's eyes narrowed. "I can't believe you're risking all our lives for a cat. We should put it outside."

Ethan's voice turned cold. "The cat stays. End of discussion."

"But-"

"I said, end of discussion," Ethan repeated, his tone leaving no room for argument.

An uncomfortable silence fell over the group. Timothy fidgeted with the cross hanging around his neck. "Speaking of humanity... have any of you... you know... had to..."

"Had to what?" Sara asked, though her tone suggested she already knew the answer.

Timothy swallowed hard. "Had to... deal with... someone who was bitten?"

The tension in the room ratcheted up several notches. Ethan's hand tightened on his rifle, his eyes scanning the group for any signs of injury or illness.

"Bitten?" Arthur scoffed. "They don't bite, you idiot. They impale. Eviscerate. Did you see even one corpse with bite marks?"

Timothy shrank back. "N-no, but I thought..."

"You thought wrong," Margaret snapped. "This isn't some zombie movie. This is real, and it's worse than anything Hollywood could have cooked up."

Mike cleared his throat. "I... I had to deal with someone who was attacked. Didn't make it." His eyes met Ethan's, a silent communication passing between them. "It was quick, at least. They don't seem interested in torture. Just killing."

Sara let out a choked sob, burying her face in Jack's shoulder. He held her close, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears.

Zoe, who had been silently observing until now, spoke up. "But why? Why are they killing us? What do they want?"

All eyes turned to the teenager.

"Does it matter?" Margaret asked bitterly. "They're here, they're killing us, end of story."

Arthur shook his head. "No, the girl's question is valid. Understanding their motivations could be key to defeating them."

"Defeat them?" Jack laughed humorlessly. "Have you seen those things? They're like tanks with legs. What are we supposed to do, throw rocks at them?"

Ethan held up a hand. "Actually, understanding them is crucial. Every enemy has a weakness. We just need to find it."

"They hunt by sound," Mike mused. "That's a weakness right there. If we can figure out how to use that against them..."

Timothy's eyes lit up. "The military announcement! They said something about sound emitters creating safe corridors, remember?"

Ethan nodded slowly. "That's right. They said some frequencies are able to affect the creature."

Margaret scoffed. "Fat lot of good it does us without one of those emitters."

"No," Ethan said thoughtfully, "but it tells us they're not invincible. They can be affected, which means they can be hurt. Maybe even killed."

The conversation lulled for a moment as everyone absorbed this information. The rain continued its steady drumming.

Sara broke the silence. "Do you... do you have any prenatal vitamins?"

The question caught everyone off guard. Jack's eyes widened as he looked at his partner. Sara nodded, a small, sad smile on her face.

"I'm about two months along," she explained softly. "Found out just before... all this."

Ethan's heart clenched. A baby. Bringing new life into this nightmare of a world. He dug into his pack, pulling out a bottle of prenatal vitamins he'd grabbed without much thought during his pharmacy raid.

"Here," he said, handing them to Sara. "Take them. And... congratulations."

Sara took the bottle with trembling hands, tears welling in her eyes. "Thank you," she whispered.

Arthur cleared his throat. "Not to be a downer, but... a baby crying in this world? That's practically a death sentence."

"We'll figure it out," Jack said firmly, his arm tightening around Sara. "We have to."

The weight of Sara's words hung heavy in the air, Ethan's eyes darted between the faces surrounding him, reading the mix of emotions - fear, determination, desperation. He caught Zoe's gaze, seeing the silent plea there. With a barely perceptible nod, he made his decision.

"Alright," Ethan said. "We'll stick together. Safety in numbers and all that." He paused, scanning the room. "But we do this my way. No unnecessary risks, no heroics. We move as a unit, we watch each other's backs. Clear?"

A chorus of murmured agreements followed. He guided the group to arrange themselves in a loose circle, positioning Zoe near the corner where two walls met, providing her with the most protection.

As the others settled in, Ethan checked his gear. Rewrapping the cloth around his boots, ensuring his weapons were clean and ready.

He pulled out the map Zoe had made, laying it flat on the floor. The beam from his carefully shielded flashlight illuminated the paper, revealing the web of streets and landmarks. His finger traced their route, calculating distances and estimating travel times.

The rain outside intensified, its steady drumming growing louder. Ethan welcomed the sound - nature's own white noise. But as he listened, something changed. A new sound, almost lost beneath the rain's cadence. A dull thud, followed by the unmistakable creak of old floorboards.

Ethan's body tensed, every sense suddenly on high alert. His hand moved instinctively to his holstered pistol as his eyes scanned the room. The others, picking up on his sudden alertness, fell silent.

Another creak, this time louder, more distinct. It was coming from above them, he had cleared the entire house, no one else could be here.

He caught Mike's eye, jerking his head towards the others in a silent command to keep them calm and quiet. Mike nodded, understanding immediately.

Slowly, silently, Ethan rose to his feet. He drew his pistol, the suppressor already attached.

Step by careful step, he made his way towards the source of the sound. The floorboards beneath his cloth-wrapped boots creaked softly, each sound making his heart beat faster. He paused at the foot of the stairs, straining his ears.

For a moment, all he could hear was the rain and the thundering of his own pulse. Then, a flash of lightning illuminated the world outside, followed seconds later by a low rumble of thunder. In that brief moment of illumination, Ethan caught a glimpse of movement at the top of the stairs - a shadow, shifting in the darkness.

His grip on the pistol tightened as he took the first step up the stairs, then another. The old wood groaned beneath his weight, and he froze, waiting to see if the sound had been noticed.

Another flash of lightning, another rumble of thunder. This time, Ethan was ready. In the momentary brightness, he saw a figure duck back into the shadows of the upstairs hallway. It was unmistakably human, but in this world, that didn't necessarily mean friendly.

Ethan's breath came in short, controlled bursts as he continued his ascent. His free hand traced the wall, feeling for any obstacles in the near-total darkness. The storm outside intensified, rain lashing against the windows, wind howling through unseen cracks.

As he reached the top of the stairs, Ethan paused again, listening intently. There - barely audible over the storm - the sound of ragged breathing, coming from just around the corner.

He tensed, ready to round the corner, when a floorboard creaked behind him. Ethan whirled, his heart in his throat, only to see Zoe standing at the bottom of the stairs, her eyes wide with fear.

In that moment of distraction, Ethan heard it - the whistle of something cutting through the air behind him. He started to turn, raising his weapon, as a flash of lightning illuminated the hallway.

In that split second of clarity, Ethan saw his attacker - a wild-eyed man, his clothes tattered and dirty, raising a rusty fire axe high above his head. The axe began its downward arc as thunder crashed overhead, drowning out any sound of the impending clash.

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Do you all like this so far, I can always drop this for something else