An Apocalyptic Gambit - Chapter 1: A Pack of Wolves

Two men traverse across a post apocalyptic world with the only goal on their mind being their own survival.

Nobody ever thought it would come to the day where one would beg for death by dogs. Then again, nobody ever thought it would come to the day where the dead would have a second shot at life. If you can even call it life.

To call the undead an unnatural phenomenon would be an understatement in the fullest. Hell, if they weren't so dangerous, terrifying, uncontrollable and resilient, the sheer fact that humanity had figured out how to bring back the dead would be a turning point in history itself. A brilliant discovery, a masterstroke from Earth's greatest minds, the best thing since the cure to cancer was found almost 40 years ago. The landmark for our generation. 

Sadly, things don't always go to plan.

The world's greatest minds didn't have a contingency plan for if things went wrong. See, once you die, your soul leaves your body and goes to wherever the f**k souls go. You're no longer a real human, but you're more of a walking danger zone. The sense of right or wrong leaves when the soul leaves. There's nothing holding back a mind who just wants to push the boundaries if you don't have morality. Another thing the scientists and their fancy lab coats didn't consider was the types of diseases the dead had received while they laid six feet under. The best way to explain how someone could contract a disease while dead is by being brutally honest. God, the Gods, whatever was the higher force in this world, it was cruel.

There's no sugar coating it. They let World Wars happen. They let rape happen. They let kids get stolen from their families. They let this happen. And they were partially the cause of it, too. See, when the soul does leave the body when you die, the nigh-omnipotent dickhead would insert a virus into your body just incase humanity had gone too far and it wanted to try again with a different species, or if it just got bored of us. What the idiot didn't plan for, though, was for human's themselves to be the one to flip the switch on it. Surely it amused whatever force pulling the strings enough to not fix the f*****g worldwide dilemma.

The virus was spread through not only bite, but practically any type of physical harm. It's almost like getting scratched by dirty metal. See, by itself that doesn't inflict much harm, if the proper care is provided. Give it a few days with no care, and you might have yourself a problem. Now imagine there being no care, the scratch is most always a wound that if you manage to not turn in under 2 minutes, you just die from bloodloss and the only way to really counter the virus was amputating the limb the freak decided to infect almost immediately. It's not pleasant and it's almost inevitable you die. There are myths of people who have been bitten but never turned, so there might just be some hope that one of them have a possible cure or gene that resists the infection. Either that or it's just bullshit made to give people hope. By the time you're reading this though, I'm sure you'll still have no clue.

The undead were good for a while. In fact, it was shocking how normal they were. They had jobs, they went to school with your kids, sometimes they even worked at the cemetery. Dead people burying dead people. Regardless, all good things come to an end, and the end for this little scenario was the greed and curiosity of the men who wanted to see just how far these abominations could go. They started locking them up, as if they were dogs, and then proceeded to not feed them for days on end. Not only did they want to see how long they could survive without food, but also to see how they would react if thrown into a populated area. They assured the public it would be safe, so people decided to carry on with their daily lives. The scientists were never wrong to begin with, so why not trust them?

And, as you would expect, when the monsters were let out into the small city Truro, located in the United Kingdom, chaos broke out. People were getting bit, cut, hell, the more cruel undead would enjoy raping before eating their victim alive. Needless to say, the choice backfired. The head of the group who decided this was a good idea had ordered the SWAT team to enter the area and fix their mistakes. Funny enough, the SWAT hadn't immediately heard news of the outbreak until now. The government were doing their best to cover up this dilemma. This was their prized work, afterall. Anyways, the SWAT team had reached Truro as quickly as they could, and what they saw was something out of a comic book.

To sum up the success they had in this city, let's just say nearly 20k zombies is a large amount of zombies.

With the SWAT defeated, things weren't looking too good. The undead weren't stupid, they just realized that they could take down an entire SWAT team if they worked together. The start of an utterly diabolical team had just been created. They had begun to spread around the United Kingdom, infecting any sad soul who was caught in their grasp. The world was going mad. It didn't help anyone's case how the scientists had already sold off the formula to bringing back the dead to every world leader who wanted to get their hands on it.

In a matter of months after the first outbreak, the world was finally collapsing. The media tried to play it off as a tragic event, but not an occurrence that would happen often, but that backfired like s**t when eventually the media were getting bit on live television. The people who weren't bit yet began to team up, avoiding any help any government related service offered out of pride, spite, and lack of trust. A rave divided is merely easy picking for the undead. When the government eventually fell, people began making their own twisted versions of what the law should be. They made their own little governments, their own little cities, their own religions, hell, you could argue that they were doing the best with what they had. You could also argue, though, that some people almost enjoyed the power they were getting.

6 factions have been made since the living dead have brought upon the apocalypse. 6 leaders have been trying to make their section prosperous in a world where the living were nearly extinct. Anyone who couldn't fight or was too scared to joined a faction that they believed had the best chance to keep them safe. The factions were the Cranes, the Twins, the Enigmas, the Hunters, the Religious Numbskulls (they prefer to be called the Light), and the Willow's. Each have their own way of dealing with the zombies, and also their own point of view and way of living. Needless to say, most of them have their own way of fighting the zombies and their own way of living. Almost all of them make sense, bar the Moronic Zealots. I mean Religious Numbskulls. F**k, I hate their group.

My name's Felix. I'm tan, brown eyes, rough black hair, scrawny, around 5'10, I'm practically a model. If you haven't caught up on it yet, I'm an atheist. Hard not to be in these times, considering the situation we're in. It's kinda depressing, almost. Before this all started, I was a strong believer too. Ah well, the Gods are b******s.

I'm not alone though. I have a pair of two friends that I'm currently surviving with. I'm not writing their names here in case I die before they do and then someone finds this and hunts them down or some s**t. Forgive me for being a little paranoid but I think you can understand. All you need to know is I trust them with my life. They're my pack. 'The Wolf Trifecta', I like to call us. They think it's stupid-

A somewhat hard thump hit Felix in the back. He turned around, black ballpoint pen in hand, and glared at the towering figure who had his arms crossed, smirking.

"What the hell was that for, Tristan? You know I don't like getting randomly hit while writing." The man, whose name was Tristan, couldn't help but let out a laugh as he put a hand through his rich blonde hair.

"I'd hope nobody would like getting randomly hit! Anyways Felix, we have work to do." Felix let out a groan as he laid his pen on top of his now closed journal and spun the chair around, staring the white male in his blue eyes. It was almost scary how tall he was too, sometimes. He was what, 6 foot? Something like that.

"It's four o'clock already? Jesus, time flies when you're cooped up in a small as f**k tent worrying every day that you might die in your sleep." The black haired survivor stretched his arms, loosening a few joints. It takes some crazy muscle to write for so long.

A loud yawn was heard from the left of Felix. "First off, dying in your sleep would probably be the best way to go."

"Classic Xavier. Really, your wit is that of legend my friend!" Felix said, speaking in a mock Shakespearean voice. 

Xavier was a pretty short guy, clocking in at around 5'7. He had dark skin and was by far the buffest member of the team. He also had gorgeous green eyes, which made up for his bald head.

Tristan rolled his eyes at his two friend's bickering. "Alright guys, enough's enough. We seriously need to go out and scavenge before it gets any later. I have a bad feeling the undead might be parading in this area anytime soon." Xavier let out a little sigh.

"D****t, I was starting to get used to the place too."

"Hope you don't miss the wildlife too much, buddy." Felix joked, before turning his attention to Tristan, getting a bit more serious. "Hey, if you think we should move area, why don't we bring our tent? It might be risky to come back and get this when we find a new area we'd like to stay at." Tristan shrugged.

"Would you like to carry the tent while we search for a new area and scavenge for food? It should only be a few miles with the extra pounds on your back," Felix was about to retort but Tristan continued speaking, "which I'm sure would do wonders for you incase we were actually getting chased by the zombies. Hm? Any takers?"

Felix sighed, crossing his arms. "Yeah yeah, you're right. We should just come back for the tent when we find the new place."

Tristan let out a hearty laugh, so hearty it gave Xavier and Felix a little bit of a shock. They never heard him laugh that loud. "Are you kidding? We're not coming back here, I literally just said zombies might be lurking here anytime soon. By the time we find the new place, hell, it could be a few days. Coming back here is way too risky." He pat Felix on the shoulder, who was looking a little down. "Hey, sorry if I was being a little harsh on ya. I just want to make sure everyone's safe."

Felix let out a little sniffle. "Yeah, I know you're just looking out for me…" Xavier looked at the two of them, confused. "Hey, Felix, why do you look like you want to eat Tristan alive?"

Felix laughed maniacally. "BECAUSE I DO WANT TO EAT TRISTAN ALIVE!" Felix then began to nibble on Tristan's wrist, causing Tristan to freak the hell out. He pushed Felix to the ground after getting his wrist free, jumped around the room a few times looking at where he was nibbled screaming 'I DON'T WANNA BE A ZOMBIE I DON'T WANNA'. Xavier was on the ground laughing, extending his arm over to Felix for a high five.

"Oh holy s**t, hahahahahaha! I didn't f*****g think his reaction would be that good!" Xavier said, holding onto his ribcage.

Felix was laughing like a maniac, he couldn't believe how funny Tristan's reaction was. "You'd think after doing it a few times he'd get used to it, hahaha!"

Tristan groaned, realizing he wasn't actually bit. He rolled down his sleeves and sighed, putting his hands in his jean pockets. He looked at his two friends on the floor and spoke displeased. "What the hell was that for, guys? You know I don't like getting bit!"

A few seconds passed before Felix could speak, barely managing. A few giggles and snorts could be heard from Xavier as he spoke. "I'd hope nobody would like getting bit!" Tristan looked Felix in the eyes for a little bit before it clicked in his head.

"Did you just-"

"Yeah, yeah I did." Felix said, standing up and grabbing his hand crafted twin knives. Xavier did the same, picking up his favorite pistol, bring with him a few packs of ammo just in case s**t got really bad. "Now hurry up and get a weapon, we have some scavenging to do." 

The pair walked out of the tent and waited for Tristan, who was smirking. As much as they were dicks to each other, they really were friends. Looking over at his selection of weapons, he chose his favorite thing to use while scavenging. A f*****g shotgun. Tristan was the only one in the group who could use it properly, so he was always the one who got to use it. Well, he never actually got to use it. S**t never gets dangerous enough for him to test how useful it would be in actual combat. He exited the tent and the trio began their search for food, items, ammo, anything really.

As long as they did it quick.

---

You know, as terrible as the Zombie Apocalypse was, nobody could say it didn't make for some interesting looking scenery. 

Gone were the days of beautiful trees and blue birds sitting on your car window, instead you have corpses rotting from bullet wounds on things that were used to be called driveways. It was almost funny how even when the undead were attacking you and destroying everything you held dear, it was still your fellow neighbor you had to look out for. It's a beautiful world, isn't it?

The clouds were dark this day. It's only around 4pm, but that didn't stop Mother Nature from being on her period and ruining the weather for their hunting today. Actually, the weather has recently been absolutely awful. It's doubtful that having nice weather would really make up for what's currently unfolding, but at least it would lighten the mood up a bit. Sadly, the group of three were scavenging during a grey, cloudy day, a rainstorm looming. The funny thing is, this has been some of the best out of utterly s**t weather. Just yesterday they were in the middle of a lightning storm. Tristan nearly got struck by some, needless to say a little bit of rain and some cloudy skies are a welcome sight considering.

The trio were still looking for anything usable they could get their hands on. During these times, you have to find and use absolutely anything and everything if you want to stay alive. It's got so drastic one week, they had to cook rotting flesh in order to stay alive. It wasn't their proudest moment, but that's just what living in the zombie apocalypse without being apart of a faction does to you.

Infact, funnily enough, they were the only three known people who weren't apart of a faction. The fact that they have actually survived the entirety of this Undead Utopia was had actually made them some of the most famous people around. It's sort of a good thing and a bad thing. Good because factions will sometimes send them gifts if they're near the area to entice them to join, bad because factions get pissed when they decline their offer and send scouts to kill them. They've managed to beat any scout so far, though, which also makes them more valuable. They were easily a class above the rest.

"F**k sake Xavier, stop tripping!" Felix said, helping him up. Xavier pouted, rubbing the back of his head.

"Hey, don't blame me, walking in mud isn't exactly the type of body training I worked on, jerk. It's not my fault you guys are walking so damn slow either!"

Tristan turned around and quietly yelled at Xavier. "If you WANT to walk in front, be my guest, Quicksilver."

Xavier grimaced. "MAYBE I WIL-"

Felix put a hand over Xavier's mouth. "Quiet dumbass, they might hear us!" Tristan shook his head and turned around, continuing the walk, leaving Felix and Xavier to follow. Felix let out a little snicker as he removed his hand from Xavier, who looked a little upset. He turned around and moved his head towards the ground, like a little kid does when they get sent to their room.

"God d****t, I always piss him off during these trips…"

Felix gave him a slap on the back, wrinkling Xavier's plaid short sleeve t-shirt. It was a little dirty, but not as dirty as his grey pants. "I think everything pisses him off on these trips." Xavier gave Felix a little nod confirming that he at the very least heard him, before shrugging it off.

"Yeah, you're right. Dude can be a right pain in the a*s sometimes." Felix turned his back and kept walking, Xavier following.

"Not nearly as much as you, though."

"Hey, I thought you were on my side!" Xavier said in self defense and shock. Felix was about to laugh before he realized something.

"S**t."

"What? Somethin-oh for f***s sake."

They had managed to lose Tristan. They had seriously managed to lose the leader of this trip.

"You have got to be kidding me right now." The living-dead man put a hand through his hair, tapping his foot on the ground as he scouted the area. He used his free hand to clean off the dirt off his plain white t-shirt. For a dead guy, he was a bit of a neat freak.

Xavier, on the other hand, wasn't doing so great.

"S**T S**T S**T I JUST F*****G GOT US LOST." Felix snapped his head over to Xavier and put his hand over his mouth, again.

"Xavier, you seriously need to calm the f**k down! Screaming isn't going to get us f*****g anywhere. Hell, the only thing screaming is going to get us is zombies. Do you WANT to have to run from zombies while searching for our good old pal?" Xavier ripped Felix's hand off his mouth, sitting down on the floor, holding his head in his hands. Rocking back in forth, the guy looked a little bit pathetic.

"No, you don't get it! I'm a f*****g liability! The only thing I'm good for is wasting time on these f*****g trips! You guys would seriously-" Felix cut him off, pulling the sensitive and overly panicky man off the ground by the collar of his shirt.

"We'd seriously be f*****g distraught without you. We'd probably be unable to survive without you, too. Hell, I can barely shoot a pistol! And Tristan's too tall to do anything bar be a massive dickhead and shoot that shotgun of his." That had gotten a laugh out of Xavier. "So, what do you say, buddy? Want to stop being a walking nuisance or do you want to help me find our friend?"

Xavier managed to get out a small smile. He was so grateful he had someone like Felix there for him, especially during tough times like these. "Let's go find Tristan."

Felix smirked as he dropped Xavier back onto the ground. "Ah, seriously man? Why is it everytime you make me feel better you pull s**t like that?"

"It's what I do, bud!" Felix said, giving out a slight chuckle. His attention now drifted back towards figuring out where the hell Tristan could have went. Luckily for them, the area they were walking in was pretty muddy, so if they actually couldn't spot him in the next 10 seconds, they could at the very least follow the tracks left in the ground. The duo have never known someone with bigger feet than Tristan.

"I mean, he couldn't have gotten that far...right?" Xavier said, hands behind his head. Felix would soon hear a loud gulp from Xavier, as he had just thought of a horrifying situation. "What if he's been attacked by a faction, or worse, zombies?"

Felix rolled his eyes, shrugging off the suggestion. "Yeah, like s**t that could have happened. I mean, how the hell could we not have notic-". Felix was cut off by a loud sound in the distance. A little bit of pause and the same noise sounded off again. It was the distinct noise of a very powerful type of gun.

Felix slowly turned around and looked into the fear stricken eyes of his muscular compadre. They were both thinking the exact same thing, and their thoughts were not pleasant ones. In an instant, they both said what they were thinking at the exact same time.

"TRISTAN!"

---

Well, I guess you could say the bright side was that he could finally shoot that damn shotgun of his.

It looked like he managed to lose his teammates while continue walking off in search of items. I mean, he didn't even get that far. There was this abandoned looking warehouse that was literally around maybe a few hundred meters away from where he left Felix and Xavier. It's not like it was a subtle abandoned warehouse, if one of those could even be subtle. How those two managed to lose him seriously pissed him off.

It didn't piss him off as much as the group of zombies surrounding him, though. Rotting flesh, sharp yellow teeth, broken limbs, ripped clothes, greenish-blackish color. The tall blonde slowly walked backwards, shotgun in hand as he fired as many rounds as he could into the zombies. Sure, they could deal with a few misplaced bullet wounds, but a shotgun at close range? Tristan didn't care what he was shooting, it was dead.

"F**k, what novice managed to capture a bunch of zombies in a giant warehouse!? Do they have NO CONCERN FOR ANYONE ELSE?!" Needless to say, Tristan was pissed off. In his mind, the person who left the zombies here were utter cowards. If you're gonna do a job, do it right.

"AND NOW I HAVE TO CLEAN THEIR F*****G MESS." Another round gone, another handful of zombies dead. There were like, what, 60 of them in here?

"Okay seriously," Tristan said in an exasperated and terrified voice, "how the f**k did someone manage to not only lure a f*****g horde of zombies into a warehouse, but then close the GIANT A*S DOORS TOO?"

It began to click for Tristan as he kept killing the zombies left from right. His back finally hit the wall of the warehouse, and he only had 3 rounds left. Around 10 zombies left.

"Wait a minute…" Tristan said, as he figured out what was going on. "This wasn't some skill move, was it? Some f****r decided to throw away anyone infected into this warehouse, didn't they?" If he wasn't so fearful for his life, he'd be disgusted with the actions of whoever did this. Why not just give them a quick death? Why lock them up in a f*****g warehouse? What purpose did it serve?

Tristan held his shotgun, trying to stay strong. He fired off his last 3 rounds, only managing to kill 6 more zombies. He used a whole 4 months worth of shotgun ammo in one go. On another day, he might have done a little bit better, but since he hadn't used the gun in so long you could say he was a little bit rusty.

"F**k f**k f**K F**K F**K F**K-" Tristan yelled and yelled, the zombies nearing him. His end was coming. He was going to die here and now, all because he was annoyed with Xavier holding them up. Needless to say, he felt like a complete idiot AND a*****e right now. He looked the zombies in the eyes (or where their eyes should be, some of theirs have fallen out), gritted his teeth, and accepted that his time had come. He threw his shotgun at two of the four remaining undead to slow them down and accepted that this was going to be his last day on Earth.

Or was it?

In an blink of an eye, two of the zombies coming towards him had bullet holes right through their skulls. Tristan was shocked, and before he could see who shot the gun, another zombie had just had their head cut off. The last remaining zombie looked towards the man who shot the gun, taking his eyes off Tristan for the split second he needed. 

In a flash, he grabbed the zombie by the head and squeezed as hard as he could, crushing the zombie's head. Travis fell onto the ground, panting. He was shaking very much, mumbling to himself words one could only understand if they were Tristan himself.

The warehouse began to creak a little less. Sure, slime was still dripping from the ceiling and it did still reek of dead humans, and the place would probably fall down any day now, but at least the mood was seemingly getting a little better. Tristan looked up to see the two heroes who saved him.

"Oh you absolute f*****g retards I love you so much."

Xavier and Felix had been the ones who saved Tristan's a*s, it was a nice change of order considering Tristan usually got them out of any situation.

"So….what the hell happened here? Looks like you had a lot of enemies to deal with." Felix nodded at Xavier's comment, scanning the area.

"Yeah, I'd say there was at least forty seven zombies here."

Tristan stood up and smirked, dusting off his shirt. "Sixty."

Xavier gasped. "You managed to take down sixty zombies?"

"Well, only 57. You guys got the most important 3 kills, though. I would have been f*****g toast without you."

Felix laughed. "Yeah, we know. But seriously, how the f**k did you hold them off for so long? You should be dead right now."

"You underestimate me." Felix and Xavier both gave him a deadpan look. They all knew that Tristan wasn't exactly the best shot of a gun. "Okay, okay, you underestimate how explosive a shotgun is. That bad boy took out around six zombies per round." He picked up his shotgun he threw at the pair of zombies and caressed it. "I love you, baby."

Xavier and Felix cringed as they watched their friend practically enacting foreplay with his gun. "Er, you two can have as much fun as you want when we find a new area to sleep," Felix began to look around the warehouse, "right now though, let's see if this place had any s**t that's worth taking and leave."

The other two men nodded their heads and began to search the area. Tristan and Xavier first picked up the ammo they used. Sure, some rounds might not work, but they had to take it. Never know when they'll hit the jackpot and get more ammo. After doing so, they all began to search the warehouse. Xavier found some raw meat, heat it up a bit and they have a good meal. Tristan found absolutely nothing, but considering he just nearly died nobody got mad at him for it. Felix found an empty pack of cigarettes and a full pack of matches. He kept the empty pack of cigarettes because it still had some of the smell of used cigarettes, and that's the closest he had to smoking in this situation. Xavier was first to speak up.

"So, that all? I don't really want to be here for another second." Tristan nodded.

"You and me both, bud. I think it's about time we get out and-AHHHHHRGH!"

Something awful had just happened. "S**T, TRISTAN!"

The zombie Tristan had used his bare hands to crush it's head had just bitten Tristan on his lower neck. Xavier immediately took his gun and shot the zombie straight through the head, the zombie now officially dead. Felix stood still in utter disbelief as Tristan fell to the ground, twitching.

"H-heh, looks like I didn't squeeze hard enough…"

Xavier dropped to his knees as he looked at the wound Tristan just received. "F**k, no buddy you're alright, it's just a scratch! We can clean it out and-"

Tristan pushed Xavier away as he laughed a sad laugh. "No, buddy, I think this is it for me. I was dumb." He closed his eyes for a bit, thinking about his past actions. "I'm sorry for being an a*****e to you later today."

Xavier was confused and sad. "What? About that? No man, it's water under the bridge! I didn't give a s**t about that I don't want you dead don't die please don't die-"

Tristan managed to let out a chuckle. "I'm not gonna die."

"What? Tristan what are you sayi-"

"I'll be back as a zombie in like, 3 minutes. Do you want to see me as a f*****g z-zombie?" You could hear the fear in Tristan's voice, but he tried his best to be strong.

Xavier didn't say anything, he just stared at his friend with tears in his eyes. Finally, Felix managed to speak.

"Maybe you're not infected, maN! What if the Gods have made you immune or some s**t?"

"You say it yourself all the damn time," Tristan sighed, "the God's are f*****g dicks." There was a slight pause before Tristan asked of them something.

"Please kill me."

Xavier shook his head furiously. "NO NO NO THERE IS NO WAY."

Tristan grabbed Xavier by his wrist with what little strength he had left. "Listen to me, Xavier. If you don't kill me I'm going to end up a mindless freak who wants to kill you. I don't want that. I don't want to die a zombie whose intentions were to kill his two best friends. I want to die knowing that my last wish was to make sure the two people who have meant the absolute world to me in these terrible times are at least not eaten alive by their friend. Do you get it, Xavier? You're not killing me. You're saving me."

At this point, Xavier couldn't hold it in any longer. He bawled his eyes out into Felix's chest, who pushed him away and ripped his gun out of Xavier's pocket.

"Felix, please no what are you doing-"

Tristan looked Felix in the eyes, noticing Felix had the gun pointed directly towards him. "Please."

Felix, holding back his tears, reluctantly pulled the trigger. He shot Tristan right through the chest, but missed the heart. Tristan screamed like hell.

Xavier pushed Felix down and grabbed the gun from his hands. "YOU IDIOT, YOU KNOW YOU'RE A TERRIBLE SHOT. WHY DID YOU SHOOT!?"

"Because we both know you would have never done it!"

Tristan grabbed his wound and managed to speak. "JUST SHOOT ME THROUGH THE F-F-F*****G HEAD PLEASE I F*****G BEG-"

Bang.

Felix looked towards a shaking Xavier. "I'm so sorry…"

Xavier, barely managing to process what happened, screamed. "TRISTAAAAAAAAN!" A loud sound of thunder rung throughout the warehouse, and the rainstorm began. It seeped through the warehouse, dripping onto the pair of shook friends and their dead leader.

Felix stood up, avoiding eye contact with his blonde friend. He didn't even realize the thunderstorm over the sound of his friend's crying. "Xavier...we need to leave."

Xavier, knowing Felix was right, gave one last look to Tristan and turned around, He put his gun back in his pocket and nodded shakily. "L-let's get out of here." He began walking out of the warehouse, every step he took making the old building creak louder and louder. Felix too took one last look at his friend. He placed his hand on his lower neck, precisely where Tristan had gotten bit, and mumbled to himself.

"I will never forget you, Wolf." A strike of lightning hit outside the warehouse, a few meters away from where Xavier was currently standing. He'd have jumped if he wasn't focusing on all the things he and Tristan argued about and what could have done better during his time with him. Felix sighed as he too exited the warehouse, and the duo went north. They didn't know what they were going to find, or what they were going to do now.

The pack dwindled.

Author's Note

Thanks for reading! Let me know what you thought, it seriously would mean the world to me!!

Reviews

[Ebm]

Great first chapter, I love the way you ended the chapter also. Definitely makes you want to read more. Good work.