The Quiet Before

Noah was peculiar by nature. Long before the outbreak, he could feel things other people couldn't. There simply wasn't a word for it, more of a gut instinct-an electric buzz that shot up his spine when something was wrong. It saved him more than once-like the time he dodged a falling beam during a fire drill, when it crashed to the floor just seconds later, or the time he stepped out of the way just before a speeding car jumped the curb.

Nobody believed him. People chalked this down to luck, coincidence. But Noah knew better. There was a darkness that lived at the edges of the world, and it whispered to him.

In the orphanage, those whispers grew loud.

Of course, none of them noticed that the game was afoot. They didn't hear how the subtle hum of the city had deepened into something more primeval, something threatening. The staff and the children alike were all too ensnared in their routine-too distracted by the countdown until they were either adopted or set free into the streets.

Noah, though-he felt it. Something was barreling down the pike.

It began in the dead of night, as all terrible things do. He awoke in a cold sweat, breathing shallowly, his senses shrieking at him to move. The storm outside had rattled the windows, and lightning cast sharp shadows across the walls, but it wasn't the weather that gave him a racing heart.

It was something else. Something deeper. Something alive.

He threw on his shoes and jacket, the pulse pounding in his ears, and made his way out into the hall. The orphanage was eerily quiet-the usual shuffle of kids and the distant murmurs that seemed to always characterize it were absent. Noah felt his chest begin to tighten. He could feel the air weigh upon him, thick with fear.

On cue, it seemed, a door at the far end of the hall burst open and Ms. Parker came running toward him, her eyes wide with terror.

"Noah," she huffed, tugging on his arm. "We need to go. Now."

"What's going on?" he asked, immediately on alert. He could smell her fear, feel the waves emanating off her.

"None," she said, hauling him down the hall. "The infection. it's getting out of control more quickly than we'd anticipated."

They sprinted through the orphanage, down darkened halls lined with engrostulated faces of other kids being pulled from their slumber. Noah's head spun as they reached the front doors. He could feel the panic on the other side, a sense of chaos spilling onto the streets. But there was something more, too-something worse.

The infected.

He'd heard the rumors, the people getting sick, turning violent, attacking their families. But it wasn't until then that the truth of it hit him right in the gut. Through the pounding rain outside, Noah felt them-creatures, no longer human, just out of sight. The presence was heavy in the air, thick and pressing against him with a weight that twisted his stomach into knots.

"Wait," Noah said, yanking his arm free of Ms. Parker's grasp. "We can't go out there."

"What are you talking about?" she snapped, wheeling to him, bug-eyed. "We have no choice!"

But Noah did have a choice. He had always had a choice, though it never felt like it. He could hear them-the infected-breathing in the darkness beyond the orphanage gates. Waiting. Watching. Hungry. He could almost feel the heat from their twisted bodies, the scent of rot on their breath.

"They're out there," he whispered. "We'll die if we go out now."

Ms. Parker froze. Her face turned white. She opened her mouth to protest, but the sound of screams, which seemed to be closing in from a distance, cut her off. Her eyes flicked to the back door.

"Then where?" she asked, barely above a whisper.

Noah closed his eyes, letting the strange, sharp sensation flood his senses. It was a curse, he'd always thought-this ability to feel danger before it happened. But now, standing on the edge of the apocalypse, he realized it was something else. It was a weapon.

"Follow me," he said, leading her toward the back of the orphanage.

They ran down narrow corridors, dodging between other kids being herded onto waiting buses outside. Noah's heartbeat quickened as they drew near the supply room in which the camp staff kept the emergency kits. Suddenly his senses were aflame once more-this time keener, sharper. There was something close, something dangerous, but it was yet not quite near.

Ms. Parker reached and took a pack from the wall, her hands shaking. "You think this is gonna help?" she asked, her voice thick with disbelief.

"Yes," Noah answered without hesitation. "We'll be needing supplies."

He couldn't explain how he knew, but deep inside, he was certain of one thing: they weren't going to make it out of the city tonight. Not unless they moved fast. Not unless they found somewhere to hide.

In the distance, a chorus of inhuman growls pierced the night. The infected were on the move, hunting for fresh prey. But Noah could feel their movements, could sense the spaces they would avoid. And for the first time in his life, he knew that his curse was the only thing keeping them alive.

Outside, the storm raged on, and the world began to fall apart. But Noah wasn't just running from the infected anymore. He was running toward something.

And in the broken world that followed, he would have to rely on the one thing he'd spent his entire life trying to ignore: the gift that made him different.

Noah crouched low, holding his breath as the growls grew closer, echoing through the hallways of the orphanage. Ms. Parker's face was pale, illuminated only by the dim glow of a flashlight she had managed to grab from the supply room. Fear gripped her features, but her determination shone through, urging Noah onward.

"Which way?" she whispered, her voice trembling.

Noah closed his eyes again, feeling the pulse of danger thrumming through the air. There was a narrow path behind the orphanage that led into the woods-he could sense it, a safe passage that the infected would likely overlook. "This way," he said, turning toward the back door.

They crept through the darkened corridors, past the echoes of terrified children still being herded outside. The screams from beyond the gates continued, haunting and desperate, pushing Noah to move faster. He felt the heaviness of the air pressing down on them, thick with impending doom.

Finally, they reached the back door, its wooden frame battered by time and the elements. Noah paused, his hand hovering over the handle. "We have to be quiet," he reminded Ms. Parker, who nodded, her eyes wide.

He opened the door just a crack and peered out. The storm was heavy, rain falling in sheets, but it masked the sound of their escape. Beyond the porch, a darkness from the woods loomed like a shrouded refuge. But the growls were still there, too close for comfort.

"Go!" he exclaimed, melting into the rainstorm outside, Ms. Parker at his heels in a flash. Within seconds, his clothes were soaked, but he welcomed it like armor against the world-the storm outside this orphanage drowned out the turmoil, leaving only the incessant beat of the rainstorm.

They sprinted towards the treeline as mud tugged at their shoes. Noah looked back one last time at the orphanage-flickering lights fighting against the dark, a highlight of shadowed faces; his heart racing, pangs of guilt drowned out by a rising tide of urgency-they can't save them all. Save themselves.

Once they plunged into the trees, the sounds of the infected fell away, muffled by the canopy overhead. The forest was alive with the sound of the rain, with leaves rustling in the gentle breeze, but Noah felt the familiar hum of danger still echoing in his bones. He led Ms. Parker deeper into the woods, weaving between the trunks and low-hanging branches.

"Where are we going?" she asked, her breath coming in quick gasps.

"I don't know," he admitted, the truth of it weighing heavily on him. "But we need to get as far away from them as possible. There's a cabin. somewhere. I can feel it."

"What if we can't find it?" Her voice came strained; fear laced her words.

Noe firmed his jaw as he turned to her. "We have to try. If we stay out here in the open, we'll become easy prey."

They pushed further into the woods; the underbrush tore at their clothes as they went. Every rustle seemed magnified, every crack of a branch echoing like a warning. Noah's heart was racing, but with each step, he felt the cadence of the world around him, the whispers guiding him, helping him steer through the darkness.

After what felt like hours, they came into a clearing. The trees broke apart, revealing an old, ramshackle cabin; its wooden frame half-concealed by overgrowth. Noah's heart lifted-he could feel it now, the strong presence of safety within those walls.

"Here!" he shouted, shoving open the creaking door and stepping inside. The cabin was dark and musty but solid, shelter against the chaos that raged outside.

"Is it safe?" Ms. Parker asked, her eyes darting anxiously towards the door, as if expecting the infected to burst through it at any moment.

"For now," Noah returned, his eyes scouring the room. It was stuff littered with remnants of a life forgotten: dusty furniture, webs, and an old fireplace. He went to the windows, peering through grimy panes. The storm had slackened somewhat, but the growls of the infected still managed to echo murderously from afar.

"Do you think anyone else made it out?" Ms. Parker's voice broke through his thoughts, her eyes filled with worry.

"I don't know," he said quietly, a pang of sorrow washing over him. "But we can't think about them right now. We need to focus on surviving."

Noah moved deeper into the cabin, rummaging through drawers and cabinets. Most were empty or filled with useless junk, but he managed to find a few cans of food, a flashlight with dying batteries, and a half-empty first-aid kit. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing.

He returned to Ms. Parker, who had settled on an old couch, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. "We need to fortify the cabin," he said, his mind racing with possibilities. "Block the doors and windows. We can't let them see us."

"Do you really think we'll be safe here?" she asked, her voice laced with doubt.

"I feel it," he replied, placing a hand on her shoulder. "We have to trust that we can get through this. Together."

They worked quickly, shoving furniture against the doors and covering the windows with whatever they could find. The rain pounded down outside, a constant reminder of the world's chaos, but in the cabin, they created a fragile sense of order amidst the turmoil.

As they finished, the growls grew louder, echoing through the woods. Noah's heart raced as he listened, trying to pinpoint their location. "They're getting closer," he said, his voice low.

Ms. Parker looked at him, fear etched in her features. "What do we do now?"

Noah took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment. "We wait and listen. If they find us, we'll have to fight."

Suddenly, a loud crash echoed from the far end of the cabin, causing both of them to jump. Noah's instincts kicked in, the familiar electric buzz racing up his spine. He tightened his grip on the flashlight, its beam flickering ominously.

"Noah!" Ms. Parker whispered, panic flashing in her eyes. "What was that?"

"I don't know," he replied, his pulse quickening. The sounds outside intensified, the growls blending with shouts and the unmistakable sound of something-or someone-trying to break in.

Just then, the cabin door burst open, a dark figure silhouetted in the doorway. The infected stumbled in, eyes wide and vacant, mouth twisted into a grotesque snarl. It lunged toward them, its arms outstretched, a monstrous shadow in the dim light.

"Noah!" Ms. Parker screamed.

Without thinking, Noah reacted. He lunged forward, grabbing a nearby rusted metal pipe. With all his strength, he swung it at the infected's head, the sound of metal colliding with flesh echoing in the small space. The creature crumpled to the floor, lifeless.

Breathing heavily, Noah wiped the sweat from his brow, adrenaline coursing through his veins. He glanced at Ms. Parker, who looked both terrified and impressed.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice shaky.

"Yeah... I think so," she replied, still in shock.

But as they stood there, heartbeats racing, Noah couldn't shake the feeling that they were not alone. The growls outside had intensified, and now, they sounded different-more urgent, more numerous.

"We have to move," he urged, scanning the room for any other exits. "If they're here, there could be more coming."

"Noah, wait!" Ms. Parker said, grabbing his arm. "What if we...?"

Before she could finish, the walls of the cabin shuddered as something slammed against them from outside, sending a jolt of fear through both of them.

"We need to go! Now!" Noah insisted, pushing past her and heading for the back door.

As he reached for the handle, he glanced back at Ms. Parker. Her eyes were wide with uncertainty, and he could feel the tension in the air, thick with impending doom.

"Trust me!" he shouted, flinging the door open. The night was dark and stormy, and the woods loomed ominously around them, but there was no choice now. They had to escape.

Yet, even as they stepped out into the storm, they heard something, a sound that twisted Noah's gut with fear. It was different from the howls of the wind; it felt alive, hungry, and dangerously close.

Suddenly, the door burst open behind them, and an infected figure staggered inside, eyes wide and wild, its skin pale and rotting. Before Noah could react, it lunged at him, its hands clawing through the air.

"Noah!" Ms. Parker screamed, the panic in her voice sharp as glass.

Time seemed to slow as Noah felt a surge of dread. He had seen this before-the helplessness of watching someone he cared about being taken away. Memories flooded his mind, images of friends and loved ones lost to the chaos. His heart raced, fueled by the crushing weight of those moments, pushing him into action.

He dodged to the side, feeling the rush of air as the creature barely missed him. But as he turned to face it, it was too close-its rotting fingers were already reaching for him.

"No!" he shouted, desperation clawing at his throat. He couldn't let this happen again. Not to Ms. Parker. He had to save her.

With a wild instinct, Noah grabbed a rusty fireplace poker lying on the floor. The infected lunged again, and Noah thrust the poker forward, piercing through the creature's skull with all the strength he could muster. It convulsed and fell, but in that moment, he felt a searing pain at his neck.

He gasped, realizing he had been scratched in the struggle. Panic surged through him as the infection burned like fire beneath his skin.

"Ms. Parker!" he cried, collapsing to the ground. "Get out of here!"

"No, I won't leave you!" she insisted, tears streaming down her face as she knelt beside him. "You have to fight this! You can't die!"

The familiar weight of failure crashed over him, memories of his past failures haunting him. He couldn't let it end like this-not here, not now. "Promise me you'll survive," he whispered, fear squeezing his chest. He didn't want her to see him like this, vulnerable and scared.

"Noah, please-"

But before she could finish, the sound of more growls erupted outside. They were closing in, and he could feel the darkness creeping at the edges of his vision.

"Get ready to run," he forced out, trying to sound stronger than he felt. "I'll hold them off. You need to get to safety."

"Don't you dare give up on me!" Ms. Parker shouted, but he could see the fear in her eyes-a fear he couldn't bear to witness.

As the storm raged, Noah felt the weight of his own survival pressing down on him. He was all too aware that this fight wasn't just for him.

With a final surge of will, he gripped the poker tightly, ready to face whatever horrors were about to break through the door. But deep down, he knew it was just beginning, and he might not be able to save her.