When the sun raised, It was a weak haze in the sky, barely cutting through the thick gray clouds. The world around us was eerily silent, broken only by the crunch of our footsteps on the cracked pavement. My leg ached with every step, and the fever clung to me, making my body feel like it weighed twice as much. But Alex didn't slow down, his strides purposeful, his eyes scanning the ruins of buildings and the empty streets.
I stole a glance at him as we walked. Everything about Alex was a mystery—his calculated movements, his sharp instincts, the way he always seemed to know what to do. He was more than just a survivor. He moved like someone who had been trained for this kind of world, like he had been preparing for it long before it fell apart.
Was he military? A cop? I couldn't say for sure, but it was hard to imagine someone like him being anything else.
