Stay strong

Jessie woke up. Her hand instinctively touched her head — a small wound, already dried. She looked around and realized she was in the garage that connected to the public car park. She tried to get up, but the explosion that followed knocked her back down. Completely shaken, she couldn't move.

'JOHN!' Her voice couldn't possibly carry through the rubble. And now there was another danger — the roof above her cracked, threatening to collapse. The fear of losing John was momentarily overtaken by the fear of dying herself. She forced herself up, turned, and opened the bag he had given her. Inside she found a gun, a dagger, and a torch. She strapped the bag onto her back, clicked on the light, and started walking. Her eyes darted constantly, never resting too long in one place. Then she heard it — a whimper. A second later, her torch lit up a mother and child huddled behind a car. Blood stained the mother's face, though it didn't seem to be hers. Jessie approached.

'What are you—'
'Sshhh.' The mother raised a trembling finger to her pale, partially torn lips. Jessie understood and moved closer before repeating quietly:

'What are you doing here?' It took two minutes before the mother managed to calm down enough to reply. Her body still shook, but less violently now.

'One of them is here.'

—

Nighyel rose from the rubble. Her body was wrecked — barely holding together.

'Damn, John… hahaha. You really were something.' She looked down at her arm, the one that had pierced his chest. It was closed tight around something. When she opened it, John's heart came into view. 'Don't worry. Not even death can keep us apart.' She grinned, then vanished into the night.

—

Jessie had checked her gear. Now she hid behind the car with the mother and daughter.

'Okay, ma'am. We need to leave. I don't know how long this roof will hold.' The woman clutched her daughter tighter.

'And go where? Out there, with those monsters roaming the streets? No, thank you. We'll take our chances here.'

'Ma'am… I don't know exactly what's out there, but I do know what's above us. And if she finds us, we're dead.' (Jessie: Just like John?) She shook her head. (Jessie: No. He made it. Somehow.)

'I appreciate it, Officer Jessie, but I can't. The military will come. Someone will. And this roof… it won't just fall that easily. I just need to believe. Hope dies last.'

'Still, it does die in the end,' Jessie replied. The words cut deep. The mother didn't respond. Her daughter, pale as snow, was trembling. Her green eyes had lost their light, and even her brown hair looked drained of color. Jessie placed a gentle hand on the girl's head. The child didn't flinch. Jessie could feel the fear in her.

'What's your name, little one?'

'Ka-ka-kat-l-li-l-i-n,' she mumbled.

'I see. Katlin it is. That's a beautiful name. Katlin, I need you to be strong now, okay? Strong enough to protect your mom.' Jessie turned to the woman and handed her a gun along with a few bullets. The woman stared at them at first, hesitant, but eventually accepted. Her eyes whispered: I can't. Jessie held the woman's hand, her own arm trembling.

'Ma'am, I'm going to fight my way to Behills Hospital. An old friend of mine said it might be safe. Military base nearby. If it's true, I'll tell them about you. So stay strong—for yourself, and for your daughter.' Unaware of her own change, Jessie's trembling faded, her voice strengthening with each word. 'Stay strong. And stay alive.' A flicker of light returned to the woman's eyes. She looked at her daughter, who stared back, searching for comfort. And in her mother's eyes, she found it. Her breathing calmed, and a faint blush returned to her cheeks. The woman turned to Jessie.

'Thank you. I'll fight. As long as I breathe, none of those bastards will touch my daughter. Thank you for the gun… and I wish you all the best out there. You can make it. You will make it. Now go.' Jessie nodded. And without looking back, she set off.