Riley's POV

It had been weeks, maybe months since the sky cracked open and the world went to hell—literally. I lost count after the first few days, once the demons started tearing through the streets like wild dogs. Time didn't matter much anymore. All that mattered was surviving. I'd been walking through the ruins of what used to be some small town, and couldn't even remember the name, just looking for supplies. My stomach was gnawing at itself, desperate for anything, but the shelves in the stores were either stripped clean or covered in that black, tar-like substance that seemed to ooze from the ground where the demons had passed. Food was scarce. Water is even worse. I was almost at the edge of town when I heard it—a rustling. My heart stopped for a second. Demons didn't make noise, not like that. They just... appeared. But still, anything that moved in this hellscape could be a threat. I crouched behind a broken car, gripping the rusted crowbar I'd been carrying like it was a lifeline. It wasn't much, but it was all I had.

The noise got closer. I could hear footsteps now, deliberate but soft, like someone trying not to be heard. I stood up slowly, keeping low behind the car. That's when I saw her.

She moved like a ghost, all stealth and silence, barely a whisper against the wreckage of the town. A backpack slung over her shoulder, a knife in her hand—practical, sharp, just like her. Her face was half-hidden under a hood, but I could see the sharp line of her jaw, the way her eyes scanned every corner like she was expecting an attack at any moment. She wasn't a demon, but she sure as hell wasn't friendly either. I remember feeling my heart hammering against my ribs, not from fear but from frustration. Another survivor. Great. Like I needed someone else to worry about. But she spotted me before I could decide what to do. Her head snapped in my direction, eyes narrowing as she gripped her knife tighter. I could practically feel her sizing me up, like I was some problem she had to solve. I stood up slowly, hands raised, trying not to look like a threat. Though in this world, everyone's a threat.

"You alone?" she asked, her voice low and steady, no trace of fear. Just… cold. Distant. 

"Yeah," I said, taking a step out from behind the car. "What's it to you?"

Her eyes flicked over me, from the crowbar in my hand to the ripped jacket I'd been wearing for days, maybe weeks. I could feel her judgment from across the street, like I was just some city kid who didn't know how to survive out here. She turned to leave without another word, like I wasn't even worth her time. That pissed me off more than I expected. "You gonna leave just like that?" I called after her, my voice harsher than I meant it to be. "Not even gonna say 'hi'?"

She stopped but didn't turn around. "I don't have time for 'hi.'"

That was the first thing she said to me. The first of many. I would've been happy to never see her again after that, but the world had a funny way of throwing people together when you least wanted it. I didn't know her name at first, didn't care to. But she was the first person I'd seen in what felt like forever, and despite the fact that we didn't get along from the start, something kept pulling us back into each other's path. Maybe it was fate. Or maybe it was just the universe's sick joke, sticking me with someone as stubborn as I was. She wasn't like me. She wasn't from the city. She didn't talk unless she had to, didn't bother with small talk or any kind of connection. She just moved like someone who had learned not to rely on anyone. And I hated that about her. Hated how she made me feel small, unprepared, like I was barely hanging on and she had everything under control. But we kept running into each other. Every town, every wrecked city, she was there. And every time, it was the same. Silent glares, tense exchanges, both of us pretending we didn't need the other.

The truth? We were both alone. We both hated it. But neither of us was willing to admit it. I didn't know it then, but that was the start of everything.