Apocalypse: After Reanimation, I Became The Queen-Chapter 31: _ We Must Find Lucas

Pretty Boy’s head snaps toward me so fast I half expect to hear something crack. "What?!"

I shift, wiggling my toes as I feel suddenly uncomfortable. "I saw three of them die. That’s why I came back for you."

The room goes silent.

Pretty Boy stares at me, and for the first time, the exhaustion in his face breaks, showing something raw in his expression.

"Who?" His voice is rough, like he already knows the answer but still hopes I’ll say something different.

My face falls with guilt. He deserves the truth, but that doesn’t make saying it any easier.

"There was a woman," I start slowly. "Blonde. Tall. She got swarmed. There was a guy, too. He went down trying to save her. I had to shoot them down to avoid reanimation."

All the voices in my head scream; liar.

I wonder if those two are zombies now. If a bite from me can turn people into zombies too. Or if I have black worms in me.

Ughhhhh!

I can’t imagine having those disgusting slimy things swimming in the pool of my blood like it’s a bloody mansion.

I feel sick just thinking of it, but I’m a zombie, right?

I continue with my fabrication of the truth. "And another one; Big. Beard. he didn’t even scream. Just... went quiet. He’s a zombie now. I saw him."

RIP, Captain Authority. Have fun munching on terrified humans.

Pretty Boy looks like I’ve just yanked his ribs open with my bare hands. His jaw clenches, and he presses a shaking hand to his forehead.

Then he whispers, "No."

The single word holds too much weight. I can’t imagine the kind of pain he’s in. I know it’s only a matter of time before they are cornered by the horde, whether they bump into me or not, but it doesn’t make the pain and guilt any better.

I ate those people, and worse, I enjoyed it.

He swallows hard, squeezing his eyes shut. When he speaks again, his voice is hoarse.

"There was a little boy," he says. "Did you...?" He trails off, but I already know what he’s asking.

Lucas. I feel sick. I need to find him too. I can’t tell Pretty Boy that I saved him because I felt guilty about what I did and want to make some kind of amends by ensuring Lucas’s safety?

I shake my head. "I didn’t see him."

Pretty Boy goes still.

For a second, I think he’s going to explode; shout, and demand answers I don’t have, but instead, his body just... collapses in on itself.

He groans forward, elbows on his knees, hands digging into his hair like he can somehow pull himself back together.

And then, he whispers, "Lucas."

"Where are you?" His voice breaks.

He looks like someone has reached into his chest and squeezed. Like he’s trying not to fall apart right in front of us.

I don’t know how to deal with this.

I’ve dealt with the flesh-hungry, the desperate, the cruel. I’ve seen people torn apart, seen bodies turned inside out. But grief? Someone else’s grief? That’s a whole different kind of horror.

Not when half of that grief was inflicted by me.

Yara’s voice croaks from where she’s slumped. "Did you guys lose anyone else?"

I glance at her. She looks even worse than before; paler, shaky, her foot still a monstrous mess. I honestly wouldn’t be surprised if she passed out right then and there.

I clear my throat. "We lost a boy." My voice comes out softer than I expect. "Lucas. He’s missing. We don’t know where he is."

Pretty Boy exhales sharply, his shoulders curving in like I had physically hit him, not spoken.

Yara, despite her deteriorating state, groans dramatically and waves a weak hand. "Okay, okay, so stop brooding like this is a depressing show, and go find him."

That earns her a blink from Pretty Boy.

I raise an eyebrow. "Wow. Compassionate." 𝐟𝐫𝕖𝗲𝘄𝚎𝗯𝕟𝐨𝕧𝐞𝚕.𝕔𝕠𝐦

She scowls at me, lips dry and cracked. "I’m serious. Sitting here like two moody statues isn’t gonna bring the kid back. You both look like you’d make a decent team. Maybe even a little scary. And you, corpse-boy..." she waves a finger at Pretty Boy, "...look like you need all the help you can get."

Corpse boy?! If the situation isn’t what it is, I might have burst out laughing.

Pretty Boy and I awkwardly glance at each other at the same time.

A bloody way.

His green eyes meet mine, and it’s the kind of awkwardness that makes me want to fling myself out a window. Not in a romantic tension way—no, this is the kind of awkward where I know I’ve literally eaten two of his friends, and he doesn’t.

He clears his throat, looking away first. "As soon as I’m recovered, I’m going to find Lucas."

The words are steady and determined. Something about it settles weirdly in my chest. I owe this to him and Lucas.

I shrug. "I’ll go with you."

He turns back to me, frowning. "Why?"

Good question. I should be getting as far away from him as possible, not volunteering to be his zombie-slaying sidekick. But... I don’t know.

Survival is getting boring and this is literally the only way I can live with my guilt.

I don’t say that out loud, though. Instead, I go with something slightly less insane. "Right now, I’m just surviving without purpose. Finding the kid could give me a purpose."

Pretty Boy studies me for a second, then nods slightly. "And you can fight. That’d come in handy."

"Don’t flatter me."

"I wasn’t." His face is serious. "You killed most of the zombies. I was too weak to fight well, but you handled everything."

Yara’s mouth drops open. "What?"

I glance at her. "What?"

"You killed all the zombies?"

Pretty Boy nods, his exhaustion making him slower. "Yeah. She took down... what, a dozen? More?"

Yara looks between us, her brows furrowing in shock and maybe a bit of awe. "But... how? No offense, but you don’t look like someone who could fight off that many zombies alone without a decent gun at that."

I roll a shoulder. "I used to be in a base. Trained for things like this."

It’s not technically a lie. I was in a base. I did fight a lot. I just leave out the part where I’m not exactly human anymore and where I have a Silent Requiem system that gives me all these abilities and perks.

Still, Pretty Boy gives me a look like he’s impressed despite himself. "Even so, your skills are unmatched."

I snort. "Stop being so humble."

He deadpans. "No. You stop being so humble."

Yara exhales, clearly overwhelmed. "Okay. Alright. So if you two are going to do this, then what about us? Me and Bea? Can we come with you? We need strong people like you. I—I’m not sure we can continue to do this on our own. Our friends are also nowhere to be found."

That makes me pause.

Not because I don’t want them to come, but because... well. The road isn’t kind.

They’ve had it easy. Easier than most.

I cross my arms. "It’s dangerous out there."

Yara scoffs, gesturing vaguely to the destroyed room around us. "Right. Because this has been all sunshine and rainbows."

I shake my head. "No. This is nothing compared to what’s out there. Being out in the open? Moving from place to place? It’s worse than sitting in a half-collapsed house with the occasional zombie wandering in."

She frowns, and I can see her thinking it over.

And just then, as if summoned by the conversation, Bea waltzes in with barely enough water to fill a glass.

She takes one look at us and blinks. "Where are we going?"

On a suicide mission with an intelligent zombie, hon.