Strays

Day 15 – Nowhere Left to Run

Mia Alvarez was learning a painful truth about the end of the world.

It wasn’t the lack of food that would kill you.

It wasn’t the infected.

It wasn’t even the violence.

It was the isolation.

She had been alone for six days now, and the silence was eating her alive.

She moved through the woods with slow, cautious steps, scanning the landscape for signs of movement. No people. No animals. Just endless trees and dead roads.

Her body ached, bruised and sore from when she had thrown herself downriver to escape the highway ambush. She had barely slept, barely eaten.

And now, with nothing but the clothes on her back and a rusted pocket knife, she had to keep moving.

She still had one goal.

Reach California. Reach her mother.

She just had to survive long enough to get there.

Mia’s stomach had been empty for nearly two days.

She had found a few edible berries along the way, but it wasn’t enough.

Her limbs were weak, her head dizzy from dehydration.

She kept telling herself to push through it, to keep walking west. But every mile felt heavier, her body begging her to stop.

She wasn’t going to make it like this.

She needed food.

She needed water.

And she needed them now.

By sunset, she stumbled back onto an abandoned stretch of highway.

Wrecked cars littered the road, their doors flung open, their contents stripped by looters.

But it wasn’t the cars that made her stop.

It was the bodies.

At least a dozen of them, sprawled across the asphalt. Some had been shot, others stabbed, and a few… a few had been ripped apart like animals had gotten to them.

Mia swallowed hard.

Her first instinct was to turn around and run.

But her hunger kept her feet planted.

If these people had been attacked recently, maybe—just maybe—whoever had done this left supplies behind.

She forced herself to move forward, stepping over the corpses, trying not to breathe in the stench of blood and rot.

A small backpack lay near a dead man’s outstretched hand.

Mia knelt, fingers trembling as she unzipped it.

Inside—

A half-eaten protein bar. A bottle of water. A box of ammo.

She nearly sobbed at the sight of the water.

She grabbed it, twisting off the cap and drinking until her throat burned.

She had never tasted anything better.

She wiped her mouth, forcing herself to slow down. She needed to ration this.

Then—

A sound behind her.

Footsteps.

Mia’s breath hitched.

She spun around—

And came face-to-face with a boy.

He couldn’t have been older than twelve.

Thin. Filthy. Dark, tangled hair.

His wide brown eyes locked onto the backpack in her hands.

Mia’s stomach twisted.

She knew that look.

It was hunger.

She took a slow step back. "This yours?"

The boy didn’t answer.

His gaze flickered to the pocket knife on her belt.

Mia tensed. Don’t do it, kid.

Then—

He bolted toward her.

Mia barely had time to react before he lunged for the bag, trying to rip it from her grip.

She stumbled, wrestling with him, their desperation crashing together like wild animals fighting over a scrap of meat.

"Let go!" she snarled.

The kid clawed at her wrist, kicking wildly, stronger than she expected.

Mia gritted her teeth—then, without thinking, she lashed out, shoving him hard.

The boy tripped backward—

And crashed onto the pavement, his head smacking against the asphalt with a sickening crack.

Silence.

Mia’s breath came in ragged gasps.

The kid wasn’t moving.

She stared at him, heart hammering. "Shit—"

Then she saw it.

His chest, rising and falling.

Still alive.

Just knocked out.

Mia swallowed hard, the guilt curling in her stomach.

She should leave. Take the bag. Walk away.

But her feet wouldn’t move.

She wasn’t like the people who had left her for dead.

She wasn’t a killer.

So instead of running, she knelt beside the unconscious boy—

And waited.

The kid came to about ten minutes later.

He groaned, his hand flying to the back of his head, eyes blinking groggily.

Mia sat cross-legged a few feet away, tossing the protein bar back and forth between her hands.

He stiffened when he saw her.

Mia sighed. "Relax. I didn’t kill you."

The boy’s fingers twitched toward his belt, where a rusty screwdriver was tucked into the fabric.

Mia raised an eyebrow. "You really wanna try that again?"

He hesitated.

His stomach grumbled loudly.

Mia smirked. "Yeah, I thought so."

She tossed him the protein bar.

The kid caught it, frowning. "Why?"

Mia shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe I don’t wanna be an asshole today."

He stared at the bar for a long moment before tearing it open and devouring it in seconds.

Mia leaned back on her hands, watching him. "What’s your name, kid?"

The boy wiped his mouth, eyeing her warily. "...Leo."

"Mia."

He licked the last crumbs off his fingers. "You heading west?"

Mia narrowed her eyes. "How do you know that?"

Leo smirked. "Everyone who’s still alive is heading west."

Mia studied him.

He was too young to be out here alone.

And yet, somehow, he had survived.

She wasn’t sure if that made him lucky or dangerous.

Leo wiped his mouth on his sleeve. "I know a safe route through Alabama. Less patrols, fewer roadblocks."

Mia raised an eyebrow. "Patrols?"

Leo nodded. "Yeah. Raiders. Militias. The worst ones wear military gear, but they ain’t soldiers."

Mia’s stomach twisted.

She thought of the men who had ambushed her on the highway.

She thought of the military deserters she had seen in Miami.

The world wasn’t just falling apart anymore.

It was reorganizing into something worse.

Leo stretched his legs, glancing toward the road. "So… you gonna let me tag along or what?"

Mia hesitated.

Letting people in got you killed.

But then again…

Maybe being alone got you killed even faster.

She sighed, rubbing her temples.

"Fine," she muttered. "But if you try to rob me again, I’m leaving your ass in a ditch."

Leo grinned. "Deal."

Mia shook her head, hoisting the backpack onto her shoulder.

She still had a long way to go.

But for the first time in days…

She wasn’t alone.