The radio. It was his radio that screwed him over. He had shared too much, in the vain hope of finding help, someone to join him in his search; he had thought everyone was too afraid, or that the only colonies with someone fit for this mission were those on the opposite side of the world.

  But someone had come to the First City, listened to all his ramblings, all the data and coordinates he had shared as he searched for an entrance. He would have never expected that man to come. Francesco was sure he was dead, his body either rotting somewhere in the city or walking with vines coming out of its brain.

  And now, after months of planning, he was forced to run away, on the brink of bleeding out, his sight hazy and steps heavy.

  His mind was only partly there, pushing him away from danger; the rest was wandering. His failure. His naivety. His loneliness, and the few who helped him survive it- the sweet Anna, Giulio and his forever-annoyed voice, the little Giorgia, heck, even that damned Rafaele, with his huge fists, had been decent company.

  Limping, he was back again in the deposit, the steps of those monsters far away; his mutation and his trusty boots had done their work in keeping him fast and alive.

  Leaving the place, he slammed the door shut and made sure to get it as stuck as possible, breaking the spear apart and forcing the pieces and blade in the worst possible points. Holly zombies heard the noise, but he ran to safety as fast as his blood loss allowed.

  Finding a small house down the street, he entered and let himself collapse on the first soft thing he found.

  Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

  Taking out of his bag the same item that had caused his doom, he sent another signal.

  If those creatures reached the cure, humanity would be fucked anyway; there was no reason not to try and find someone who, at last, would be of help. Any help. Or at least fuck over those monsters and pave the way for someone else to come.

  Blood blinded his right eye, but he didn’t wipe it. With a cigarette in his mouth, he started talking.

  “Fancesco here. If you want to fucking save humanity, come here and now. The lab is getting invaded in a matter of hours, so stop being cowards and follow the coordinates I’m going to send you.”

  Please, someone… anyone… come.

  Smoke filled his lungs. It was always a nice reprieve from the perfectly clean air. Something to remember a past life, before humanity was wiped out.

  He didn’t know if he was hallucinating or just going down memory lane, but in front of him appeared the girl he had seen growing up, from the day she was born to the time she took her first step out of the colony, from celebrating her first birthdays to teaching her how to survive in that wasted city.

  Little Giorgia.

  Not that she was little, not anymore. He could almost see her, standing in the doorframe, her head scraping the top. How tall had she got, over the last few years? Two meters? Close to it?

  In her eyes, he imagined with ease the worry and care she liked to show the world.

  Ah… you always looked like that when you saw a hurt animal. So sweet. So childishly innocent, to the point that one damn pigeon still follows you after all these years.

  As the image walked over to him in a panic he had never seen before, the worst fear crept inside his soul.

  Please, no… don’t be here. Don’t you be the one to go and fight those monsters. You don’t need to sacrifice yourself for this cursed land… You don’t need to be the brave one, Giorgia, please.