The group's footsteps echoed faintly against the cracked asphalt as they made their way back to the armazém. The air carried a heavy stillness, broken only by the distant moans of the dead. Shadows stretched long and sharp in the fading daylight, and the scent of decay hung thick around them, clinging to their clothes and skin. Even the wind seemed hesitant to move, brushing past them in short, hollow whispers.
Atlas led the way, his strides purposeful and his piercing blue eyes scanning the horizon for threats. He moved with the predatory grace of someone who'd long since mastered the art of survival. The faint streaks of silver in his dark hair glinted in the setting sun, giving him an almost otherworldly aura. Behind him, Lilly and Carley followed, their weapons ready, while Glenn brought up the rear, his nervous glances darting to every darkened corner. The tension was palpable, each step carrying the weight of uncertainty.
Carley watched Atlas move ahead, his broad shoulders silhouetted against the fiery sunset. Her eyes, drawn to the taut fabric of his pants, quickly flickered away, a blush creeping up her neck. The memory of that night by the campfire, a fleeting glimpse of him in the firelight, resurfaced. It had been a brief, unexpected encounter, yet the memory lingered, a potent mix of curiosity and awe that she couldn't quite shake. She shook her head, determined to focus on the task at hand.
"Stay close," Atlas said, his voice calm but commanding. He didn't look back, but the authority in his tone left no room for argument. "We're not far, but that doesn't mean we're safe."
Lilly's green eyes flicked to him, catching the edge of his profile as he scanned their surroundings. There was an undeniable magnetism to him, one that made it hard not to stare. Her fingers tightened around the hilt of her machete as she forced her attention back to the road ahead. Her thoughts, however, betrayed her. The memory of Atlas's touch from the night before was impossible to shake. The way his hands had explored her skin, firm yet reverent, his sheer presence overwhelming as he claimed her completely. Her cheeks burned as she recalled his strength, his control, and the raw intensity that had left her breathless.
Only she and Atlas knew the truth of what had happened that night in the forest. Glenn and Carley hadn't witnessed the brutal confrontation with Lee—the way Atlas had brought him to his knees with a single, devastating kick and spoken with a deadly calm that left no room for misinterpretation. The memory made Lilly's heart race, both from the lingering fear of that moment and the security she felt in Atlas's presence.
"What's the plan when we get there?" Glenn's voice broke the silence, edged with the nervous energy that often accompanied his words. He adjusted the straps of his pack, which seemed heavier with every step.
Atlas glanced over his shoulder, his expression sharp and unreadable. "We check the supplies, secure the perimeter, and rest. Tomorrow, we reassess."
"Reassess what?" Glenn pressed, his brow furrowing. "We're running low on food, ammo, everything. How long do you think we can keep this up?"
"As long as we have to," Atlas replied, his tone steady. There was no hesitation, no doubt. "Worrying won't change anything. Focus on what you can control."
Glenn muttered something under his breath but didn't push further. He knew better than to argue with Atlas, especially after hearing from Lilly how Lee had been dealt with. It wasn't the kind of story easily forgotten, and Glenn had no desire to test the man's patience.
The group rounded a corner, the armazém coming into view. Its weathered façade loomed against the darkening sky, the once-bright paint now faded and peeling. The sight brought a mix of relief and apprehension. It had served as a refuge before, but there were no guarantees it would remain so.
As they approached, Atlas raised a hand, signaling for them to stop. His eyes narrowed, scanning the area with a predator's focus. Lilly and Carley moved to his sides, their weapons at the ready. The tension in the air was palpable, every sound amplified in the quiet. The faint rustle of leaves and the occasional groan of the undead seemed louder in the stillness.
"Something's not right," Atlas murmured, his voice barely audible. He unsheathed his knife, the blade catching the fading light. "Stay close."
The group advanced cautiously, their movements synchronized. Glenn lagged slightly behind, his eyes darting nervously. The shadows seemed to shift and ripple as the last rays of sunlight disappeared beyond the horizon, plunging the world into a muted twilight. Lilly's heart quickened as she matched Atlas's pace, her gaze flitting between him and the path ahead. She felt safe with him leading—safe and dangerously aware of the way her body still ached from his touch.
Suddenly, a shadow moved near the building's entrance. Atlas's hand shot up, signaling them to halt. He motioned for Carley to follow as he crept forward, his steps silent. The muscles in his arms flexed as he gripped his knife, every movement precise. The faint scent of blood and decay grew stronger as they neared the doorway.
Carley moved beside Atlas, her heart racing, the pistol gripped tightly in her hand. She trusted him completely, even though she didn't fully understand the extent of his protective instinct. Her gaze flicked to his profile, then lower, remembering the nights they'd given in to passion, the intensity of their bodies pressed together. A shiver ran through her, and she quickly focused on the task at hand, mentally berating herself for her distraction.
With a sudden burst of movement, Atlas lunged into the shadows, his blade flashing. A sickening crunch followed as he drove the knife into the skull of a zombie lurking by the entrance. The creature collapsed with a gurgling moan, its body twitching briefly before falling still.
"Clear," Atlas said, his voice low. He stepped aside, his gaze flicking to Carley. "Stay sharp."
Her lips twitched into a faint smile as she nodded, the adrenaline coursing through her veins. "Always."
Inside the armazém, the air was thick with the musty smell of mildew and old wood. Shelves stood half-empty, their contents picked clean from previous raids. Lilly moved cautiously, her machete ready, while Glenn lingered near the entrance, his nervous energy palpable. The faint creak of the floorboards beneath their feet echoed in the dim space, amplifying the tension.
Atlas's gaze swept the room, calculating every possible threat. The dim light that filtered through the boarded-up windows illuminated his stern features. He watched Carley move between the shelves, her movements agile and precise. A brief smile curved his lips at the sight of her concentration. The intimacy that bound them together was a comfort amidst the chaos, but right now, his priority was everyone's safety.
In another corner, Lilly's fingers brushed against a faded can of beans. Her mind wasn't on the supplies, though. She replayed the night before—the way Atlas had moved above her, the weight of his hands, the way he'd claimed her completely, leaving no part of her untouched. Her hand lingered on the can as her thoughts spiraled, her body remembering every detail.
"We're not staying here long," Atlas said, breaking the silence. "This place's been compromised before. We'll use it to rest, but we move at first light."
Carley nodded, her gaze meeting his. The intensity in his eyes sent a shiver down her spine, though she didn't dwell on it. Glenn hesitated, but one look from Atlas silenced any protest. The smaller man busied himself with organizing supplies, his hands trembling slightly.
As the group settled in for the night, the tension didn't dissipate. Lilly caught Atlas watching her from across the room, his gaze lingering a moment too long. The air between them felt heavier with every passing moment, charged with emotions none of them dared to voice. Outside, the faint moans of the dead served as a grim reminder of the world they fought to survive in, but inside, the true battle was only beginning.