Mallory leaned back against the reinforced wall of Alex's makeshift lab, her wrench resting on her knees. She was exhausted but relieved to have a moment of calm. Around her, the group was catching their breath. Alex was tweaking a glowing device on his workbench, Vanessa sat sharpening her knife, Altair was typing furiously into his tablet, and Greg was eating a protein bar he'd mysteriously pulled from his pocket.
But even as the immediate danger faded, Mallory's mind churned with questions. How had Alex ended up here? Why had Greg never mentioned their separation before now? And what exactly had happened to her apartment that made it feel less like home and more like a distant dream?
She took a deep breath, addressing the group. "Alright, we need to talk."
"About what?" Greg asked through a mouthful of protein bar.
"About how we all got here," Mallory said firmly. She turned to Alex first. "I'll start with you. We last saw each other back when my apartment was doing its weird evolution thing. You came over, stayed for dinner, and then poof—you were gone the next day. What happened?"
Alex winced, scratching the back of his head. "Yeah, about that... I didn't exactly leave on purpose."
Mallory frowned. "What do you mean?"
He sighed, putting down his gadget. "Remember how your fridge gave us Blinky, and everything in your apartment was leveling up? Well, I think your apartment reached a point where it decided it didn't need me anymore. One minute I was on your couch watching zombie movies, and the next I woke up outside, in the middle of a horde. Your apartment basically... ejected me."
Mallory's eyes narrowed. "My apartment kicked you out? That doesn't make any sense."
"It didn't make sense to me either," Alex said. "But it's like your place knew you wanted to be alone, even if you didn't realize it at the time."
Mallory frowned, the memory of her early days in the apocalypse surfacing. She had been so focused on her own comfort that she hadn't thought about what others might need.
Greg, meanwhile, looked uncharacteristically serious. "I guess this is as good a time as any to explain why I disappeared too."
Mallory's head snapped toward him. "Yeah, you'd better explain. One minute we were scavenging snacks from the convenience store, and the next you were gone. I thought you got eaten!"
"I thought I was a goner too," Greg admitted, his voice unusually subdued. "After we split up to distract that zombie horde, I got cornered. But instead of ripping me apart, the zombies just... stopped. Like something was controlling them."
"Controlling them?" Altair's head shot up. "That's not normal behavior for zombies."
"No kidding," Greg said. "They dragged me to this abandoned factory where I met... this group. Scientists, or what was left of them. They were experimenting on zombies, trying to figure out what made them tick. They claimed they could cure the infection if they had the right resources."
Mallory's jaw dropped. "You're telling me there are people out there trying to cure this mess, and you didn't think to mention it sooner?"
Greg shrugged helplessly. "I didn't think you'd believe me. Plus, they weren't exactly... sane. Their experiments were borderline mad science. I barely escaped."
Vanessa raised an eyebrow. "So, you just ran off and didn't bother to find us?"
"I tried!" Greg protested. "But by the time I got back to where we were, you were gone. I thought you and Mallory had moved on, so I started wandering."
Mallory shook her head, trying to process everything. "So, let me get this straight. Alex got evicted by my apartment, Greg got kidnapped by zombie scientists, and somehow we all ended up in different parts of the apocalypse."
"Basically," Alex said with a shrug.
"And now we're here," Mallory muttered, rubbing her temples. "Great. Just great."
Blinky chirped from her shoulder, nuzzling her cheek as if to comfort her.
Altair cleared his throat. "If I may, this raises a more pressing question: what's the deal with your apartment, Mallory? It's unlike anything we've encountered. It evolved, it kicked Alex out, and it seems to have some kind of awareness. That's not normal."
Mallory hesitated. "I don't know. When the apocalypse started, it just... adapted. It started providing food, water, electricity—everything I needed to survive. I thought it was just luck, but now I'm not so sure."
"It's not just luck," Altair said. "It's a phenomenon. Something we need to understand if we're going to survive long-term."
Mallory sighed. "Fine. But before we start dissecting my apartment's psyche, we need to deal with the immediate problem." She gestured toward the lab's locked door. "There's a giant zombie out there, and it's not going away on its own."
Vanessa nodded. "We'll need a plan. And this time, let's not rely on Alex's 'maybes.'"
"Hey!" Alex protested.
Mallory stood, her wrench in hand. "Alright, here's what we're going to do. We lure the big guy into the garage, trap it with Alex's sonic devices, and then—"
"And then what?" Greg interrupted.
"And then we blow it to kingdom come," Mallory said with a grin.
The group exchanged uncertain looks, but no one argued.
---
The plan, as it turned out, went about as smoothly as a rollercoaster ride on a rickety track. The group managed to lure the zombie into the center of the garage, where Alex had set up his sonic traps. The creature roared in confusion as the high-pitched frequencies disoriented it, but things quickly went south when one of the devices short-circuited.
"That's not supposed to happen!" Alex yelled as he scrambled to fix it.
"You don't say!" Mallory shouted back, narrowly dodging a piece of debris the zombie hurled at her.
Greg, meanwhile, was trying to distract the creature by waving his mop around like a sword. "Hey, ugly! Over here!"
Vanessa groaned. "This is the worst plan ever."
Despite the chaos, the group managed to corral the zombie into a corner. Mallory tossed one of Alex's makeshift grenades, and the explosion sent the creature flying.
When the dust settled, everyone was panting and covered in grime, but alive.
Mallory grinned, leaning on her wrench. "Not bad for a bunch of misfits."
Greg groaned. "Next time, can we have a plan that doesn't involve almost dying?"
"No promises," Mallory said with a laugh.
As they regrouped, Mallory couldn't help but feel a strange sense of unity. Despite their differences and the insanity of their situation, they had come together and survived. She felt like they were finally moving forward—toward answers, toward hope, and maybe even toward a cure.