The bunker doors creaked open, the hydraulic locks groaning under pressure. Ava swallowed hard as the first breath of the outside world hit her lungs—thick, acrid, metallic. Wrong.
The sky overhead was a sickly shade of orange, the ruins stretching out before them nothing but bones of a dead civilization.
"Move out," the lead scavenger barked. "Stick to the formation."
Ava adjusted her grip on her rusted knife and stepped forward with the group.
That's when she saw them.
Two figures, dressed in bunker-issued coats, their familiar voices cutting through the murmur of the team.
Aunt Linda Zhang. Aunt Rose Zhang.
Ava had survived the apocalypse. Had clawed her way through hunger, labor, and desperation.
But nothing had prepared her for the special kind of suffering that came with running into her mother's side of the family.
Linda was exactly as she remembered—sharp-eyed, her hair still dyed a faded blonde, lips pressed into a permanent smirk.
Rose looked harsher, her face drawn with deep lines, but her expression was the same as always—cold, judgmental, and just waiting for someone to disappoint her.
Ava almost turned around and walked back into the bunker.
Unfortunately, she wasn't that lucky.
Linda's eyes locked onto her immediately.
"Oh? Look who it is."
Ava sighed. Here we go.
Linda strode up with her usual air of self-importance, giving Ava a slow once-over. "Didn't expect to see you here, darling. Thought you'd be back inside, sorting trash."
Ava's fingers twitched around the hilt of her knife, but she kept neutral.
Some things never changed.
"Listen up," the lead scavenger said. "We're heading to an supply warehouse five miles out. Intel says it's been picked clean, but we might find salvageable tech."
"If we run into hostiles?" someone asked.
Chen's eyes were flat. "Run if you're weak. Fight if you're not."
Ava followed the group as they moved through the shattered remains of the old world.
The streets were barely recognizable as streets anymore—just long stretches of cracked pavement. Some structures still stood, but they leaned at odd angles, their windows shattered, their walls cracked open like rotting teeth.
The air smelled stale, carrying a faint hint of something burned and metallic.
Most of the team kept quiet, eyes constantly scanning their surroundings. Outside the bunker, silence was survival.
If something moved, it wasn't a good thing.
Ava adjusted the grip on her knife, doing her best to ignore the pointed glances from Linda and Rose.
"Didn't think you had the guts to come outside," Linda murmured, her voice too casual as they navigated through the ruins.
Ava kept her eyes forward. "Yeah? I didn't think you had the guts to do anything useful, but here we are."
Linda huffed, but didn't push further.
They walked for nearly an hour, the city stretching around them in endless decay, until Chen finally raised a hand, signaling the group to halt.
Ava's body tensed immediately.
Something was wrong.
Chen gestured to an intersection ahead. "That's our target. Warehouse is past that overpass."
Ava narrowed her eyes.
The overpass wasn't empty.
A collapsed truck had overturned near the middle, its cargo spilled across the road—twisted scraps of metal, shattered crates, and something else.
Something that gleamed in the dim light.
Food.
Or at least, what looked like food.
Which meant one thing.
It was a trap.
Ava wasn't the only one who noticed.
Rose let out a low curse, stepping closer. "Someone's been here."
Linda clicked her tongue. "And if they left food behind, it means they're planning to come back for it."
Chen nodded. "Move carefully. If it's an ambush, we need to—"
A gunshot split the air.
Someone screamed.
Then the whole world exploded into chaos.
Ava dove for cover as another shot rang out, the bullet sparking off the concrete near her feet.
Shadows moved between the broken buildings, figures slipping from the wreckage like ghosts.
Scavengers.
Not the desperate kind—the organized kind. The kind that staked territory, set traps, and killed anyone who walked in.
"Fall back!" Chen shouted.
Not bad advice, but the scavengers had already cut them off.
Ava barely had time to react before someone rushed her from the side.
A thin, wiry man, his face hidden behind a makeshift mask, swung a rusted crowbar at her head.
She ducked—barely.
The impact missed her skull but clipped her shoulder, pain bursting through her arm.
Ava staggered, her grip tightening around her knife, and before he could swing again, she drove the blade straight into his thigh.
The man let out a choked scream, collapsing to one knee.
Ava yanked her knife free, shoving him aside.
A gunshot cracked behind her, followed by a wet, ugly noise.
Someone else went down.
She didn't check who.
Didn't matter.
She had two choices—stay and fight, or run like hell.
Ava turned on her heel and ran.
The ruins were a maze of shattered buildings and broken streets.
Ava sprinted toward the nearest cover, slipping through the wreckage of an old storefront, her breaths coming fast and sharp.
Someone followed.
She heard footsteps, the crunch of rubble shifting behind her.
Not a scavenger.
Linda.
Ava slowed, turning just in time to see her aunt gripping a rusted metal pipe like a weapon, her expression unreadable.
Ava frowned. "What the hell are you—"
Linda moved too fast.
The pipe swung up—and slammed into Ava's ribs.
Pain exploded through her side.
She hit the ground hard, air ripping from her lungs.
She barely had time to process it before Linda's foot slammed onto her chest, pinning her down.
Linda's smile was sharp, cruel. "You really thought you were cut out for this?"
Ava gritted her teeth, trying to force air back into her lungs.
"I should've done this in the bunker," Linda muttered. "But hey. Out here? No one's gonna ask questions when you don't come back."
Ava's pulse hammered in her ears.
Her own aunt was trying to kill her.
Because of course she was.
Because it was easier to get rid of the competition than fight for a place at the top.
Because in this world, family didn't mean a damn thing.
Linda pressed down harder, her eyes glinting.
"Goodbye, sweetheart."
Then—
A guttural snarl ripped through the air.
Linda froze.
Ava's breath hitched.
From the shadows of the ruined building, something moved.
Not human. Not scavenger.
Something much, much worse.
A monster.
Ava barely had time to register the rows of jagged teeth before it lunged.
And suddenly?
Linda wasn't so smug anymore.