The closer they got to the engine—
The worse it became.
The lights above them flickered.
Once.
Twice.
Then dimmed.
A murmur spread through the group.
Low.
Uneasy.
"What's happening?" one of the students whispered.
"Battery's dying…" another replied.
The words hit harder than any scream.
Because light—
Was their only advantage.
Without it—
They had nothing.
Panic returned.
Quiet at first.
Then growing.
The wife looked down at her phone.
The flashlight beam trembled slightly.
Her reflection flickered on the screen.
For a moment—
She didn't see herself.
She saw the girl she had been.
Confused.
Indecisive.
Running from truth.
Then she looked at him.
Standing ahead.
Still leading.
Still protecting.
Still choosing everyone—
Even now.
Something inside her settled.
A decision.
Without thinking—
She stepped closer.
Held out her phone.
"Take mine."
He turned immediately.
Frowned.
"What about you?"
"I'll manage."
"No."
"Yes."
Their eyes locked.
This wasn't hesitation.
This wasn't uncertainty.
This was choice.
For the first time—
She wasn't stepping away.
She was stepping toward him.
"I trust you," she said quietly.
The words hit him harder than anything else that night.
Because for two years—
That was all he had ever wanted.
Not love.
Not perfection.
Just that.
Trust.
Something shifted inside him.
Deep.
Unspoken.
But there was no time to respond.
A sound came from ahead.
Closer now.
The infected were moving again.
Faster.
"Lights up!" he shouted.
The group reacted instantly.
But now—
There was less light.
Less control.
Less margin for error.
The breaking point had arrived.