A red Ford Fiesta zoomed through NH-07 toward Teal City.
Inside were two people... and a mangled corpse that lay horizontally in the back seat.
The driver was a tall young man of athletic build. The passenger, a girl of similar age.
Her most striking feature—the incredibly dark bags that marred her otherwise beautiful face.
The guy looked solemn; the lady, devastated.
"I can... you know, get us some alcohol or something. I mean, I'm getting some for myself. Would you like some too?"
"I don't drink."
"And I understand that. But it'll help..."
"I don't—"
"Alright, no pressure, Nala."
Zaire waved off the tension his question had caused.
She was a grieving soul, and he had to man up—be mature while dealing with her.
She'd just lost her whole family.
Her father mutated. Her grandfather exploded. The only blood kin she had left was her mother.
Where she was, Zaire didn't know.
Should he ask? Absolutely not.
"Thank you, Zaire. You really saved my life back there."
"You're welcome."
"And thanks for helping with the burials."
"Thanks for lending me the car."
"What are we going to do now?"
"The military cantonment is nearby. Around five-ish kilometers off the western entrance to the city."
"You sure people will be there?"
"I mean, there better be. Weak peo—Susceptible and vulnerable people are the ones getting mutated. You better hope the military lacks them... No offense."
"None taken... my father was a hurt... sniff... man."
Nala cried, and Zaire drove.
Let her grieve in peace.
*****
After driving for a few minutes, the red Fiesta neared Teal City.
The national highway curved through a hill, and there it was, beyond the turn—Teal City.
But this area had always been a traffic hotspot. It was narrow and served as the city's entrance—normally a congregation of honking cars.
Nearing the turn, both living occupants of the car saw the mess the apocalypse had wrought: crashed cars, carcasses, bug swarms, and smoke.
And, of course, prowling beasts.
"Probably blocked, huh?"
Zaire guessed with a scrunched face.
"Probably."
Suddenly—
Rat-tat-tat.
Gunshots rang out.
Zaire and Nala immediately turned to their right.
Their instinct guided them toward the source.
Relief and intrigue washed over Zaire. He muttered,
"Survivors."
Nala nodded and added,
"Yeah, they probably had scouts on the lookout or something."
"Mhm... hopefully they're good people."
"You don't seem that relieved, Zaire."
"Well, I've seen a lot of movies and shows. Apocalypses and all that always bring out the worst in us."
"..."
"It's only been a day, though. I'm overthinking. I'm here. You'll be fine."
Nala responded to Zaire's reassurance with a dry chuckle and a shake of her head.
*****
Zaire and Nala sat quietly in the car, spectating the prowling beasts.
It didn't take long for a Jeep Wrangler to pull up beside them.
Out came four people: a woman and three men.
"SURVIVORS?"
The man in the passenger seat yelled as he leaned down to get a better look inside.
"Of course, idiot."
The woman snapped at her partner's stupid question.
She immediately continued, now in a much sterner tone,
"Come out. Slowly."
Zaire glanced at Nala and gestured for her to wait inside.
He slowly stepped out of the car, hands raised above his head.
The man smirked and commented,
"See, Amelia? You scared the boy."
Amelia rolled her eyes.
The man continued,
"Only two of you?"
Zaire nodded mutely.
"Consider yourselves blessed. We've set up a camp in this lane. Follow us."
Zaire calmly surveyed his surroundings.
Each of the four carried guns—he didn't know what kind, but he knew each was lethal enough to kill him.
He asked,
"You guys don't seem too welcoming of survivors?"
The woman's face twisted.
"Obviously. You two are strangers. Why should we trust you?"
"Fair."
"So follow us and earn our trust."
Zaire nodded. Then he bent down to gesture for Nala to get out as well.
Looking at Nala, one of the other men's face darkened.
"You're very lucky to have your girl with you."
Zaire smiled wordlessly.
They didn't trust them? Cool. He had every right not to trust them either.
*****
En route to the lane—named Brew Lane—Zaire bonded with one of the men.
It was the one who hadn't spoken to them at all during their initial encounter. His name was Bright—Bright Driver.
A name in vain, though, as he hadn't been given the responsibility of driving the car.
Talking to Bright, Zaire deduced a few things:
There were ten other survivors, excluding the four in the Jeep.
The turn to Teal City was littered with beasts. It was nearly impossible to reach the city.
Their main HQ, if one could call it that, was at the end of Brew Lane—some villa belonging to a Teal City businessman.
And finally, the most unsettling to Zaire, was their name. Yeah, they'd fucking named themselves on the second day of the apocalypse.
This group called themselves The League of the Messiah.
They had a leader, and he was someone called Messiah Ate.
Several thoughts revolved in Zaire's mind:
What kind of a fucking name is Messiah?
And isn't this how cults are born, for fuck's sake?