The wind howled outside, shaking the windows of the cabin. Elliot sat in the corner, knees pulled up to his chest, staring at the door. He could still hear the sound of scratching, soft at first, then louder, as if whatever was out there was testing the walls, searching for a way in. His heart thudded in his chest, each beat echoing in his ears.
Max was curled up next to him, his breathing shallow but steady. The dog had been through hell, but he was alive. And that was the only thing that mattered right now. Elliot tried to focus on that, tried to remind himself that they were both safe—at least for the moment.
His father was pacing by the window, rifle in hand. He hadn't said a word since they'd shut the door, but the look on his face told Elliot everything he needed to know. This wasn't over. It had only just begun.
Elliot swallowed hard, trying to force the lump in his throat to disappear. His mom had gone upstairs when they heard the noise outside. She hadn't come down yet. He didn't know if she was still upstairs or if she was... gone. The thought twisted his stomach into knots, but he couldn't let himself think about it. Not yet. Not until he had to.
His father stopped pacing and looked at him. His face was drawn, the lines deeper than usual, the weariness in his eyes telling a story Elliot wasn't ready to hear.
"Stay here," his father said, his voice low but firm. "I'm going to check the perimeter. You stay with Max."
Elliot nodded, but the fear gnawed at him. What if something happened to his father? What if he didn't come back? He wanted to protest, to tell him not to go, but the words wouldn't come. Instead, he just hugged Max tighter and watched as his father grabbed a coat and stepped out into the blizzard.
The door closed behind him with a thud, and Elliot was alone. Alone with the dog, alone with the uncertainty of what was happening to the world outside.
The wind outside was picking up, but it wasn't the wind that made Elliot's skin crawl. It was the silence that followed his father's departure. The kind of silence that settled deep in your bones, like the world was holding its breath. He could hear his own pulse, the rush of blood in his ears, but everything else... nothing. No animals. No cars. No people. Just the howling wind and the soft thud of snow against the walls.
Max growled softly, his head snapping toward the window. Elliot tensed, his breath catching in his throat. The dog was on edge. That was never a good sign.
A distant sound reached Elliot's ears. A low, drawn-out moan. It made his blood run cold.
He had heard the stories. He had heard the whispers in town, but he hadn't wanted to believe them. People turning into... monsters. No, that wasn't possible. It was some kind of infection, a virus, something that made people sick. But this... this was something else.
Elliot didn't want to look, but his eyes were drawn to the window anyway. The snow outside was swirling in the wind, thick and fast, making it hard to see anything. But there—just on the edge of his vision—a figure stumbled past the cabin. It was moving erratically, its body lurching in a way that didn't seem right. The figure stopped, turned its head toward the cabin, and Elliot froze.
Its eyes were empty, vacant. It didn't look human anymore.
A scream rose in Elliot's throat, but he swallowed it down. He didn't know what to do. He couldn't let it in. He couldn't let it find them. He had to stay quiet, stay hidden.
The figure lingered for a moment, swaying in the wind. Then, it started moving again, stumbling toward the edge of the forest. Elliot's breath came in short, panicked bursts. He glanced at the door, his mind racing. His father was out there. What if the infected had already reached him? What if—
The door burst open.
Elliot jumped, his heart nearly stopping. He spun around, eyes wide, expecting the worst.
But it was his father.
"Dad!" Elliot gasped, his voice breaking with relief.
His father didn't respond right away. He was breathing heavily, his face pale and grim. There was something in his eyes that Elliot didn't understand, something that made his stomach churn.
"We need to go," his father said, his voice tight. "Now."
Elliot didn't ask why. He didn't need to. His father's face told him everything he needed to know.
Without a word, Elliot grabbed Max's leash and stood up, following his father as he headed for the back door. The snow outside was thick, the wind biting at their skin, but Elliot didn't care. He just needed to keep moving, to stay ahead of whatever was out there. The thing that wasn't human anymore.
They were running now, their footsteps muffled by the deep snow. Max stayed close, his tail tucked between his legs, his eyes darting nervously from side to side. Elliot's father led the way, his rifle raised, scanning the trees as they moved.
They had only gone a few yards when Elliot heard it. A low growl, distant but unmistakable. And then another. And another.
The infected were out there.
And they were closing in.