Surviving the Apocalypse With My Yandere Ex-Girlfriend

Chapter 207: Lookie here, Lookie here

Thunder rattled the house hard enough to make the walls groan.

Rain hammered against the boarded windows in uneven bursts, sometimes sounding like fingers drumming against the wood and other times sounding like the sky itself was trying to break its way inside.

The house wasn’t much.

Just another abandoned building somewhere in Maine.

The windows had been boarded up years ago. The wallpaper was peeling. Water stains crawled across the ceiling overhead. Dust coated almost every surface that hadn’t been disturbed by us moving through it.

Still, it was shelter.

After everything we’d been through lately, shelter was good enough.

I laid back against the couch and stared at the ceiling.

The storm outside reminded me of another storm.

Not because it looked the same.

Because it felt the same.

A few months ago, people would’ve been looking at me right now.

Waiting for me to tell them what came next.

I was their leader.

At least that was what everyone called me.

The person who made the decisions.

The person who chose where we slept.

Where we scavenged.

Who stood watch.

Who stayed.

Who left.

I remembered sitting around campfires while people argued and looked at me for answers.

I remembered pretending I knew what I was doing.

I remembered being trusted.

Then the lattice happened.

Then Annie happened.

Then Texas happened.

Somewhere along the way, things changed.

I wasn’t sure exactly when.

I wasn’t even sure I missed all of it.

There had been comfort in not carrying everyone’s lives on my shoulders anymore.

There had also been consequences.

The memory of every bad decision I’d ever made tried forcing its way into my head all at once.

People getting hurt.

People dying.

Mistakes I’d never get to take back.

The thoughts arrived so fast it felt like a blood vessel bursting.

I shoved them down immediately.

No.

I wasn’t doing that today.

Across the room, Aubrey pressed a finger against her free ear while holding a walkie talkie close to her mouth.

"Adira?"

Static crackled.

Nothing else.

Aubrey frowned.

"Adira, come on."

More static.

"Is anyone there?"

Her voice grew tighter.

"Carl. Adira. Anybody. Pick up."

The silence that followed seemed to fill the entire room.

The rain kept falling.

The thunder kept rolling.

Nobody answered.

A beat passed.

Then another.

"Still nothing?" Hale asked.

He sat down beside her.

Aubrey shook her head.

"No."

The answer came out flat.

Like she’d already expected it.

Hale slid an arm around her shoulders.

Nothing dramatic.

Nothing performative.

Just enough to pull her closer.

Aubrey leaned into him slightly.

I looked away.

Not because it bothered me.

Because it felt personal.

My eyes drifted upward toward the ceiling again.

Then down.

Toward Lila.

She was laying beside me.

Head resting against my shoulder.

Completely relaxed.

Which should’ve comforted me.

Instead it made my stomach hurt.

Because none of this made sense.

Not a single part of it.

A brain injury.

Days of torture.

Malnutrition.

Infection.

Near death experiences stacked on top of near death experiences.

She should’ve been worse.

Way worse.

Any normal person would’ve been.

Instead she’d marched through the borough like a damn machine.

Sharp.

Focused.

Dangerous.

She’d cut through infected.

Avoided soldiers.

Found routes nobody else noticed.

And eventually saved my life.

I couldn’t stop thinking about it.

No matter how hard I tried.

The more I replayed it in my head, the less sense it made.

Lila slowly sat up.

Her fingers lazily walked across my chest while she hummed a familiar melody under her breath.

She seemed content.

Comfortable.

Happy, even.

I watched her for a moment.

Then looked away.

Because the conclusion waiting for me on the other side of those thoughts wasn’t one I wanted.

If she was getting better...

Then maybe I was worrying for nothing.

But if she wasn’t getting better—

If the infection was changing her instead—

Then I didn’t know what the hell I was supposed to do.

Maybe I was wrong.

Maybe she’d always been this capable.

Maybe she’d always been this protective.

Maybe I’d just never noticed.

There was only one way to find out.

I slowly sat up.

Immediately, fingers wrapped around my wrist.

I froze.

Lila was staring at me.

The change in her expression was instant.

The softness disappeared.

Something colder took its place.

Something frightened.

Her grip tightened slightly.

"...Where are you going, my darling?" she asked quietly.

The question sounded innocent.

The look in her eyes wasn’t.

"I just need to stretch my legs."

For a second she didn’t answer.

She just stared at me.

Like she was trying to decide whether that answer was acceptable.

Then her shoulders relaxed.

"Oh."

Her grip loosened.

"Okay."

Relief immediately flooded my chest.

I hadn’t even realized how tense I’d become.

I stood up.

Turned around.

Started walking.

The couch creaked behind me.

I closed my eyes.

Slowly turned back around.

Lila was halfway to standing.

"You don’t have to follow me."

She frowned.

I pointed toward the couch.

"Really. I’m okay."

She looked unconvinced.

"Be back soon, okay?"

I didn’t answer.

Mostly because my thoughts were already elsewhere.

Trying to make sense of things that didn’t make sense.

I originally left Chicago because I believed things could get better.

Because I believed there was a cure somewhere.

Because I believed Lila could become normal again.

Or at least something close to normal.

Now I wasn’t even sure what normal meant anymore.

If the infection was improving her...

If it was making her stronger...

Sharper...

Then what exactly was I trying to cure?

The thought made me uncomfortable.

I pushed it aside.

The further I moved through the house, the quieter everything became.

Most people were occupied.

Talking quietly.

Resting.

Trying not to think too hard about what came next.

Then I spotted Terri.

Alone.

She sat near one of the boarded windows with her hands folded in her lap.

Staring at the floor.

At first nothing seemed strange about it.

Then I looked closer.

And realized she’d been sitting in the exact same position for several minutes.

Not moving.

Not blinking much.

Just staring.

My steps slowed.

Something felt off immediately.

Terri was anxious.

Awkward.

Nervous.

That wasn’t unusual.

This was.

Her eyes looked distant.

Not unfocused.

Distant.

Like she was somewhere else entirely.

I frowned.

Then started walking toward her.

Slowly.

Carefully.

When I stopped in front of her, she didn’t look up.

Didn’t acknowledge me.

Didn’t react at all.

"Terri?"

Nothing.

I crouched slightly.

Then I noticed her lips moving.

Tiny movements.

Almost impossible to see.

Like she’d been talking to herself.

Something unpleasant twisted in my chest.

"Terri."

Still nothing.

"Terri, are you okay?"

She jumped.

Hard.

Her head snapped upward.

"Oh!"

A smile immediately appeared on her face.

"Adrian."

I stared at her.

The smile looked wrong.

Forced.

Lost.

"No, I uh..." She rubbed the back of her neck. "I don’t have your biology homework from Ms. Watkins yet but I swear I can finish it before class."

Silence.

My stomach dropped.

Terri blinked.

The realization hit her.

Her smile faltered.

Then vanished.

"...Sorry."

I didn’t know what to say.

Because that wasn’t confusion.

That wasn’t distraction.

For a second she’d genuinely thought we were somewhere else.

Somewhere years ago.

Somewhere before all of this.

And judging from the embarrassment on her face, she knew it too.

A beat passed.

Then another.

"So what’s up?" she asked.

I exhaled slowly.

"I was wondering if you still had that book."

Terri blinked.

"What book?"

"The notebook."

I made a vague gesture.

"The one where you documented all your infected theories. Strains. Mutations. All that science stuff."

Recognition immediately crossed her face.

"Oh."

She sat up slightly.

"Oh! Right."

A faint smile appeared.

"That book."

"Do you still have it?"

"Yeah. Hold on."

She immediately began digging through her backpack.

The bag looked like it weighed half as much as she did.

Papers.

Pens.

Old wrappers.

Several notebooks.

At one point she pulled out an entire flashlight and stared at it in confusion before tossing it aside again.

I watched her search.

For a moment she looked normal.

Not terrified.

Not exhausted.

Just Terri.

Then she found it.

"There."

She pulled out a worn notebook and handed it over.

I immediately opened it.

The pages were bent from years of use.

Notes filled nearly every available inch.

Terri shifted awkwardly.

"Is there a reason you wanted it?"

I didn’t answer.

Not immediately.

I was already flipping through pages.

Dates.

Observations.

Theories.

Most of it dated all the way back to 2016.

Practically the beginning.

Back when nobody knew what was happening.

Back when we were all just scared kids pretending we understood the end of the world.

Baseline infected.

Mind-broken variants.

Intelligent strains.

I already knew most of that.

I’d lived through it.

I turned another page.

Then another.

Terri watched me.

The longer I stayed quiet, the more nervous she became.

"Adrian?"

I raised a finger.

She immediately shut up.

More pages.

Amber.

I found several diagrams discussing the drug.

Predictions.

Effects.

Potential neurological alterations.

Old information.

Useful once.

Not anymore.

Then I reached another section.

And stopped.

My eyes narrowed.

The pages were different.

More detailed.

Far more detailed.

Entire sections had been dedicated to a single subject.

Lila.

There were diagrams.

Observations.

Behavioral notes.

Predictions.

Theories.

My eyes slowly widened.

Terri immediately noticed.

Embarrassment flooded her face.

"Oh God."

She rubbed the back of her neck.

"I know how weird that looks."

I looked up.

She shrank slightly.

"A few months ago you were really serious about finding a cure."

I said nothing.

Because I still was.

Terri noticed that too.

"So I just..."

She looked away.

"I collected data."

I glanced back down.

Pages and pages of it.

"What kind of data?"

"The times we tested her."

Her voice grew smaller.

"The reactions she had to different compounds. Behavioral changes. Physical changes."

I frowned.

"And?"

Terri hesitated.

For a second she looked like she wanted the notebook back.

"Well..."

She reached toward it.

Then froze.

The notebook vanished from my hands.

Both of us looked up.

Lila stood there.

Holding it above her head.

A smile stretched across her face.

"Well, well."

Her voice sounded playful.

"What are you two lovebirds talking about?"

"Lila."

She ignored me.

"Oh?"

She flipped open the notebook.

"What’s this?"

Terri immediately went pale.

I felt my stomach sink.

I thought she’d stayed on the couch.

Apparently not.

Lila began flipping through pages.

Slowly.

Casually.

The room suddenly felt colder.

Terri’s expression continued falling apart with every page she turned.

"Lila," I said.

No response.

"Lila."

Nothing.

She continued reading.

"Lila, give it back."

Her eyes never left the notebook.

Then she stopped.

The smile disappeared.

Not gradually.

Instantly.

The air in the room seemed to change.

"’In the event that Subject L demonstrates further neurological divergence, euthanasia should be considered before additional mutations can occur.’"

Terri’s face immediately drained of color.

I felt my stomach drop.

Lila kept reading.

"’Post-mortem examination of cerebral tissue may provide insight into the adaptive mechanisms responsible for her unique condition.’"

The room had gone completely silent.

"’Dissection of the frontal and temporal regions is recommended.’"

Lila lowered the notebook.

Slowly.

Very slowly.

Then she looked at Terri.

Just the, she stopped breathing.

I genuinely think she forgot how.

Lila slowly lowered the notebook.

Then looked at her.

There was nothing playful in her eyes anymore.

Nothing warm.

Nothing human.

The silence stretched.

Terri looked frozen.

Then Lila laughed.

A short sound.

Sharp.

Wrong.

"So."

Her head tilted.

"You wanted to kill me."

Terri immediately shook her head.

"No."

"No?"

Lila repeated.

"No?"

She started walking forward.

Terri scooted backward.

Fast.

"No no no."

Lila smiled.

"You don’t get to do that."

Terri’s breathing started speeding up.

"Lila, I—"

"You don’t get to lie."

Lila pointed at the notebook.

"It says it right here."

Her voice began rising.

"Dissection."

Another step.

"Extraction."

Another.

"Termination."

Terri hit the wall behind her.

Nowhere left to go.

"I wasn’t—"

"Weren’t what?"

Lila snapped.

"Weren’t planning it?"

Terri looked like she was about to cry.

"Weren’t writing it?"

Her voice became quieter.

Somehow that was worse.

"Weren’t talking about cutting my head open?"

The room had gone completely silent.

Everyone was watching now.

Nobody moving.

Nobody speaking.

Lila crouched slightly.

Like a predator getting eye level with prey.

"You were going to kill me."

"No."

Terri’s voice cracked.

"No, I wasn’t."

"You were."

"I wasn’t."

"You were."

"I wasn’t!"

Lila’s smile widened.

Then widened further.

"Oh."

She nodded.

"You’re scared."

Terri looked absolutely horrified.

Lila seemed delighted by that.

The realization hit me like a punch.

She wasn’t just angry.

She was enjoying this.

Enjoying watching Terri break.

"Lila."

Nothing.

"Lila."

Still nothing.

Terri’s hands were shaking violently now.

"I didn’t want to kill you."

"Then why write it down?"

"I didn’t know!"

Tears appeared.

"I didn’t know what you were!"

The second the words left her mouth, she regretted them.

I saw it happen.

Lila saw it too.

And her entire face changed.

Something ugly surfaced.

Something wounded.

Something vicious.

"What I was?"

Terri immediately tried backtracking.

"No, that’s not—"

"What I was?"

Lila repeated.

Her voice had become terrifyingly calm.

The kind of calm that exists right before something explodes.

"You people always do that."

Nobody moved.

"You decide what somebody is."

Another step.

"Then you decide whether they deserve to live."

Another.

"And somehow that’s science."

"Lila—"

Her hand shot out.

Fast.

Far too fast.

I grabbed for her shoulder.

The next thing I knew pain exploded across my face.

Something sharp tore through skin.

I stumbled backward.

Blood immediately spilled down my cheek.

The room erupted.

Aubrey moved first.

She practically launched herself forward.

"Enough!"

She grabbed Lila around the waist and physically dragged her backward.

Lila fought her.

Actually fought her.

Thrashing.

Snarling.

Trying to get free.

Terri had curled into herself completely now.

Pressed against the wall.

Trembling.

Not crying.

Past crying.

The kind of fear that shuts everything down.

I pressed a hand against my face.

The sting was immediate.

Hot.

Wet.

My palm came away red.

Blood.

More than I expected.

Across the room, Aubrey was still struggling to restrain Lila.

Lila wasn’t even looking at me.

She wasn’t looking at anyone.

Her eyes remained locked on Terri.

Like she’d forgotten the rest of us existed.

Like she still wanted at her.

That scared me more than the scratch.

Slowly, my breathing started evening out.

The adrenaline remained.

Hammering through my chest.

Making my hands shake.

I wiped blood away again.

Then looked up.

And immediately wished I hadn’t.

Hale was staring at me.

Not Lila.

Not Terri.

Me.

His expression was completely calm.

Completely controlled.

But underneath it—

Something sharp had emerged.

Something I’d seen before.

The look Hale got right before he decided something.

My stomach dropped.

"Adrian."

I flinched.

Just slightly.

That was enough.

Hale noticed.

"A word."

The room suddenly felt very small.

God fucking damn it, man.