Chapter 6: Echoes of Hope
ELENA
They were gone. The house felt strangely quiet after everyone left. I sat alone on the edge of the couch staring at the closed door. For several moments, I didn't move.
Didn't speak. Didn't even think. I simply sat there. Trying to convince myself that everything that had happened today was real. Because it didn't feel real. Not after everything I'd been through. Not after the last four years. The silence inside the house felt foreign. Safe. Comfortable.
And somehow that scared me more than the infected ever had. I lowered my gaze.
Four years. Four years since the outbreak began. Four years since the world collapsed. Nothing had been the same since. My life has once been normal. Perfect, even. I had parents who loved me.
A home. A future. And most importantly , I had Nowella. The thought of her immediately sent pain through my chest.
A sharp ache that never truly disappeared.
My little sister. My precious little sister.
She had only been eight years old when the outbreak began. Only twelve now.
Twelve. Still just a child. Still too young for the world she'd inherited. I closed my eyes.
God only knew where she was. Or if she was safe. A tear escaped before I could stop it. Nowella has always been sensitive.
Not weak. Just sensitive. She had been born with a rare genetic condition that prevented her hair from growing. No matter what treatments our parents tried. No matter how many doctors they visited.
Nothing worked. Children teased her.
Adults pitied her. People stared. And every time it happened, it felt like they were hurting me too. Because she wasn't just my sister. She was my heart. I loved her more than anything. More than life itself.
Another tear rolled down my cheek. I quickly wiped it away. My thoughts drifted backward. Toward the beginning. Toward the night everything changed. Mom and Dad had seen the news long before the infected reached our neighborhood. Warnings. Emergency broadcasts .Footage of violence. Chaos. Death. Mom refused to let anyone leave the house. She insisted we stay inside. Wait it out. Stay safe.
But safety doesn't fill an empty stomach.
Eventually we ran out of food. Dad volunteered to go. Despite our protests.
Despite our fears. He promised he'd be careful. Promised he'd come back. And he did. At first. He returned with a wound across his stomach. Nothing serious, we thought. At least not then. A fever followed.
Then exhaustion. Then confusion. By the time we realized something was wrong...
It was already too late. My chest tightened.
Even now, years later, the memory felt fresh. Painfully fresh. That night. The screaming woke us. Nowella and I ran toward our parents' bedroom. And found a nightmare waiting for us. Mom was screaming. Dad wasn't Dad anymore. I can still see it. His face. God... His face. Skin peeling away as if acid had been poured across it. Bloodshot eyes. Twisted movements. Something wearing my father's body. But it wasn't him. Not anymore. And I noticed my mother dead lying in the bed . The creature noticed us. And started walking toward us. Slowly. Hungrily.
I remember covering Nowella's eyes. I didn't want her to see. I wanted to protect her. Even then. Especially then. Then I ran.
Straight toward my parents' dresser. Leaving my sister standing there. The guilt still haunted me. I had no choice. But it still haunted me. Dad kept a handgun inside the drawer. I knew exactly where it should have been. Except I couldn't find it. Not immediately. Every second felt like an eternity. My hands shook. The infected version of my father moved closer to Nowella. Closer. Closer. Then I found it.
The gun. I turned. Aimed. And fired.
One shot. Straight through the head. Silence. I remember Nowella staring.
Frozen. Terrified. I remember standing there. Gun in hand. Numb. Traumatized.
Broken. Neither of us were ever the same again. I opened my eyes. The memory faded. But the pain remained. It always remained. I wiped my face. Took a shaky breath. And forced myself back into the present. A sudden ringing sound startled me. The doorbell. For a second I jumped.
Then remembered. Food. Caine had mentioned dinner. Slowly, I stood and walked toward the door. Still struggling to believe any of this was real. Hospitality.
Kindness. Safety. Those things felt almost mythical now. I opened the door. Emma stood outside holding a tray. A warm smile greeted me immediately. "Hey." I smiled back. Or at least tried to. Then Emma's expression changed. Her eyes moved over me. Up and down. The smile faded. "You haven't freshened up yet?" I froze. a little embarrassed. "Oh." I cleared my throat.
"Sorry." I tried to keep my face neutral.
"I was looking around the house." I glanced back inside. "It's... quite big." Emma chuckled softly. I looked away. "I got caught up in old thoughts." Immediately, sympathy appeared in her eyes. I hated that look. Not because Emma meant anything wrong. Because I was tired of being pitied. Still. I couldn't really blame her. Emma nodded slowly. "Yeah." Her voice softened. "I know that feeling." For a moment neither of us spoke. Then realization struck me. I hadn't invited her inside. "Oh!" I stepped aside immediately.
"I'm so sorry. Come in." Emma laughed.
"It's okay." She entered and placed the tray on the table. The smell alone made my stomach growl. Embarrassing. Emma turned toward me. "Actually..." She hesitated. "I wanted to ask you something."
Instantly my heart dropped. My stomach tightened. Fear flooded through me.
Were they getting rid of me? Had I said too much? Had they changed their minds?
I forced myself to remain calm. "Yes?"
My voice came out smaller than intended. "Anything." Emma offered an awkward smile. "We're holding a ceremony tomorrow." I blinked. "A ceremony?"
She nodded. "For the people we lost during the Lost City battle." Relief immediately washed through me. Followed closely by sadness. "Oh." I swallowed.
"Of course I'll come." A genuine smile appeared on my face. Emma seemed grateful. Then she looked away. Toward the window. Toward memories only she could see. "Saying goodbye to friends..."
Her voice cracked. "I don't even remember how many times we've done this during the last four years." She laughed sadly. "But it never gets easier." I listened quietly. "When I became a helper for refugees..." She paused. "And the principal of the school..." A small smile appeared. "I thought I'd save more people." The smile disappeared.
"But there are still so many I couldn't save."
My heart tightened. Emma continued.
"Inside the shelter, there's a lot I can do."
Her voice trembled. "But once we step outside..." She looked down. "We have to protect ourselves from our own kind."
I frowned. Former gangsters. Criminals.
Mercenaries. The infected weren't the only monsters left. "We've lost a lot of good people to them." Silence followed. Heavy silence. I understood that feeling. Maybe more than she realized. So I offered the only thing I could. A smile. "No worries, Emma." She looked at me. "We all have moments like that." I folded my hands together. "We can't save everyone." The truth hurts. But it was still true. "But I know you're trying your best." Emma blinked.
"If talking about it helps..." I smiled gently.
"Then I'm happy to share some of that burden." For a moment she simply stared.
Then she smiled. A real smile. The cheerful Emma from earlier seemed to return.
"Thank you." She laughed. "I already feel better." Curiosity eventually got the better of me. I looked around the house. Then back at Emma. "Can I ask something?"
"Sure." She said I swallowed and said , "What's the story behind this shelter?"
Emma took a deep breath. Then she said,
"This place used to be abandoned."
I looked around again. Impossible.
The place felt alive. "The squad transformed it." She smiled. "And refugees started arriving." Her grin widened.
"One of the first ones was actually me."
She paused. "And Ian." I found myself smiling. Somehow that didn't surprise me.
Emma continued. "Things were rough back then." She laughed. "Very rough." "No food." "No medicine." "No weapons."
"We fought for everything." Yet despite everything, they survived. Expanded.
Built farms. Schools. Electricity. Running water. Hope. Then Emma's smile softened. "There was someone else too." Her voice grew quieter. "One of the founders." I listened carefully. "Her name was Layne."
A tear appeared in Emma's eye. "She was incredible." Emma smiled sadly. "Most of her life was devoted to helping orphans."
My heart ached already. "When the outbreak happened..." Her voice cracked.
"Most of the children under her care turned." I closed my eyes briefly. God.
How horrible. "She escaped." Emma continued. "And joined the committee."
A faint laugh escaped her. "She looked terrifying." That surprised me. Emma smiled. "Strict." "Intimidating." "But she was actually sweet." "Funny." "Kind." Emma wiped her eyes. "You would've loved her."
Silence followed. Then Emma whispered,
"The shelter declared her dead." She shook her head. "But I don't believe it."
Hope flickered in her eyes. "I think she's still out there." I didn't know what to say. So I simply listened. Eventually Emma looked at me. "Enough from me." She smiled softly.
"Tell me about yourself." Her expression became serious. "And the Reestablishment." My stomach tightened.
Part of me wanted to stay silent. To bury it all. To forget. But another part of me was tired. Tired of carrying everything alone.
So I told her. Everything " well me and my sister were the only two people that survived in our family She was only 8 years old and I was only 12 years old but I had to take care of her we were hiding in spots staying under shadows hoping that the infected wouldn't get us it was a living nightmare. that we thought until we actually arrived in the reestablishment firstly it all seemed too good to be true my sister was happy she played with the other kids she was well fed so was I but as time passed a week or two things started to change people started to disappear we didn't know what it was then but now you know they disguise children as one of the infected ones to go out . It was simply a bait to gather rations and weapons they didn't need to disguise the adults as they were infected as they could act but people started to go missing and people started to turn and get infected it was not going so smoothly anymore . The reestablishment killed so many elder people because they were weak they thought that the weak ones should not be alive that they are a disgrace they took our names they said that we need new names new identity for the new world that they would create for us they gave us number as names as I said before I was #888 and my sister was #444 . There are a few other children I don't know their names but I think they were #111 , #567 & #896 . There were rumours going on that they used to eat the infected ones now I don't know how much of that is true
but if that is actually true it wouldn't surprise me that they are as evil they are but I don't know how they survive off of eating the infected ones or is that the reason they let everyone go as baits
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the rumour started spreading really fast and whoever got really anxious about the rumours and overreacted or even slightly reacted they got killed and thrown off. they are creating a much bigger weapon something that is capable of killing not only the infected ones but over half of the population that's even alive they just want to survive themselves staying in the reestablishment was nothing but a living hell maybe worse than that if that had a word they would starve us if we didn't agree to them they would beat us they would torture us in the name of reshaping us it was not a shelter it was not a safe place and it is still not a safe place for all the survivors and the refugees if anything it's a place where they sacrificed us". By the time I finished, the room had become silent. Emma looked pale. Her hands trembled slightly. And honestly? I couldn't blame her. Because sometimes when I remembered it all, I still couldn't believe it myself. Eventually I asked quietly, "The ceremony tomorrow..." Emma looked up.
"I assume Ian and the others will be there too?" Her expression changed. Sadness returned immediately. "Caine and the others will definitely be there." Then she hesitated. "The rescue team should return from the coast by morning." Should.
The word lingered. "If they don't..." Her voice cracked. "We'll add them to the ceremony too." A chill ran through me.
I didn't ask another question. I didn't need to. The look in Emma's eyes told me everything. The coast was deadly. Very deadly. Eventually she left. The house became quiet once more. I locked the door behind her. Then stood there. Alone. Listening to my own heartbeat. Everything I'd shared tonight. Everything I'd buried. Everything I'd carried. It felt exposed now.
Raw. Painful. But somehow... Lighter. My eyes drifted toward the tray. The food had gone cold. Still, I forced myself to eat. A few bites. Then a few more. I needed strength. Especially if I wanted to find Nowella. My thoughts kept returning to her.
To the people still trapped inside the Reestablishment. To everyone still suffering. Part of me wanted to march back there. To kill every person responsible. To burn the whole place to the ground. But reality was cruel. I wasn't strong enough.
Not yet. Later, after washing up, I climbed into bed. The mattress was unbelievably soft. I still wasn't used to it. As I settled down, something caught my eye. A drawer. Curious, I opened it. Inside sat a diary. And a pen. For a second, I simply stared. Then tears filled my eyes. A diary.
Something so ordinary. Something I'd once taken for granted. My hands trembled as I opened it. Then I began to write.
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Dear Diary,
Day One Since My Escape. I did it. I escaped. And somehow, I found another shelter. I knew there had to be somewhere better. Somewhere kinder. I didn't think I would survive long enough to find it. Honestly, I shouldn't have survived. The last thing I remember is climbing into the trunk of a car. After that, everything went black. The people here told me I was found unconscious, trapped in the trunk and surrounded by the infected. I should be dead . Instead, Ian and his squad found me. They saved me. I still can't believe what I'm writing. Hot water. Electricity.
Good food. Comfortable beds. Friendly people. People who devote their lives to helping others. They don't torture survivors. They don't take away names.
They don't treat people like numbers. I've spent so long living in fear that kindness feels unreal. If this is a dream... Please let me enjoy it a little longer. But more than anything Please give me my sister back.
Because without Nowella, no dream can ever truly be a good one. Mom. Dad.
I know you're watching over us. I know you loved us. And we loved you too. We still do.
Thank you. And thank you to everyone in this shelter.
— Elena
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I closed the diary. Held it against my chest.
And for the
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first time in years... I fell asleep feeling something I thought I'd lost forever.
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Hope.
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and then Add to home screen.