Between Shadows and Heartbeats

Chapter 1

If at this moment, Adelaide Ravenwood could make a wish, it would be that women didn’t have Aunt Beatrice, especially in The Last Times. Or perhaps that at twenty-four, she could just skip her period entirely.

Right now, it was probably April 12 or 13, 2032, and her menstrual cycle had inexplicably arrived ahead of schedule, leaving Adelaide feeling blindsided. The warm blood was drawing the attention of waves of Undead—those nightmarish creatures that relentlessly pursued her. They had become a sprawling mass of hunger, seemingly never-ending.

Adelaide was scavenging for supplies on the streets of Bridgemont, yet choices were scarce. Stores were no longer viable; they would be looted in moments. Alleys could lead to ambushes. The only option for quick, effective self-protection was to seek higher ground nearby.

However, that "higher ground" was merely a bank awning, the only place she could scurry up using her makeshift tools. Grateful that the architects had designed the bank with an overhang, this moment became a pivotal point in her struggle for survival over the next few decades.

Perched on the sturdy ledge, Adelaide gazed blankly at the dense horde of the Undead below, their shrieks and frenzied movements a cacophony of terror, clawing at the air as if they could reach her. The rancid odor of decay was nearly overwhelming, a scent so closely associated with death that even after six years of surviving The Last Times, it still made her stomach churn. She thought that the memory of such stench must now be etched in her very being.

The bank awning felt like an island, isolated from the onslaught beneath. Yet, she was trapped; they couldn't reach her, but neither would they retreat. Blood continued to flow, pooling as the stench made her feel like a tempting morsel simmering away, attracting those flesh-eaters toward her.

Adelaide resolved that she would rather starve or get dehydrated than allow these Undead to take even a shred of her flesh. This was her last shred of dignity as an unmutated primate.

"Hey, the person below! Look up!" A voice broke through the fog of her fear.

Adelaide blinked, lost in her thoughts, almost convinced she imagined it. It was a smooth, pleasant male voice.

“Can you hear me?”

Adelaide hesitated, then slowly raised her chin, peering up at the source of the voice above her.

A handsome face appeared, peeking out from a fourth-story window. He looked young and clean-cut, not at all someone she’d expect to find in this grim world.

He was her beacon of hope. With a surge of adrenaline, Adelaide jumped up and waved her arms frantically. Even without this person offering assistance, she could save herself if just one nearby window would open. Unfortunately, the distance was too far for her homemade grappling hook to shatter glass safely, meaning she needed help to relocate.

"Please, help me!" Adelaide called up desperately. "If I survive, you can take any supplies I have!"

Her tone was polite, clearly understanding that in The Last Times, nothing came without a price. She only hoped the supplies she had weren’t deemed worthless by this potential savior.

She saw in his face the understanding that was so rare now. In a world stripped of morality and law, people bore myriad intentions—some seeking flesh, others resources, and many driven by motives best left unspoken. It was typical for those who dared to rescue others to start with threats and demands.

Adelaide clenched her fists, drawing on every ounce of strength she had left. She had survived far longer than she had anticipated, and she couldn’t let this chance slip away.

Chapter 2

But as Adelaide Ravenwood clung to the edge of her precarious situation, her savior, Sir Cedric, tossed down a bundle of rope without hesitation, securing one end firmly around his muscular forearm. “Surviving is up to you,” he called out, his voice clear and reassuring, with a smooth tone that suggested confidence.

Adelaide wasn’t intimidated by Sir Cedric’s words; after all, anyone who relied solely on others in dire times wouldn’t survive long in the harsh world they lived in. With a swift motion, she seized the rope, wrapping it around her waist with precision.

The rope, thin yet sturdy, felt like climbing gear, indicating that Sir Cedric was not just an ordinary man. He must either be skilled or a part of a better-equipped organization—the Citadel, perhaps. As she secured the knot, tightening it into a reliable hitch, she checked her gear and prepared to scale upward, using the strength of his pull to help her ascend.

Adelaide refused to let her cautiousness slip as she climbed; she silently prayed her benefactor wouldn’t falter. A single slip could mean a catastrophic fall into the clutches of the Undead below, a fate she dreaded.

Fortunately, all went smoothly. Just as Adelaide was about to exhaust her strength, she finally pulled herself up to the Fourth Chamber. Sir Cedric reached out, and with incredible force, he effortlessly helped her inside the safety of the room.

After hanging in mid-air for what felt like an eternity, Adelaide was relieved to collapse into a crouch, resting for a moment. Looking up, she studied her rescuer. He was dressed in cargo pants and a plain white tank top, topped off with a slightly worn gray jacket. A dagger was strapped to his thigh, and his utility belt clinked with various tools. He carried a sizable backpack and wore rugged hiking boots—he looked like a co-pilot serving on a reconnaissance mission.

In this chaotic world, a scout typically meant someone who ventured out from the Citadel, scavenging supplies, mapping territories, and surveying potential dangers. The elite scouts were known for their resourcefulness and prowess in the battlefield.

By having crossed paths with such a capable person, Adelaide felt a flicker of balance return to her, despite her previous misfortunes. Yet, for a woman used to handling her affairs alone during the Last Times, this could be the start of a precarious new chapter in her life.

Chapter 3

After taking a moment to collect herself, Adelaide Ravenwood laid out all the supplies she had brought with her. She kept her head down, trying to shield her face from view.

“Thank you for saving me, Edric. You can take whatever supplies you can use,” she said, her voice steady but anxious. To her, the supplies felt like mere objects compared to the crucial need for her own safety. This man appeared to be no savage beast, but she couldn't entirely trust that he wouldn’t drag her to The Citadel against her will. The fate of a lone woman among a group of unfamiliar men was not a comforting thought.

“No need for that,” Edric replied lazily, a hint of amusement in his tone. “Keep them for yourself... What are you doing out here all alone?” His curiosity emerged cautiously, as if he was debating whether to pry further.

“I got separated from my friends and was following the markers to find them,” Adelaide crafted her response, determined not to reveal that she was truly alone and without allies.

In reality, Adelaide was just a solitary figure wandering aimlessly.

Six years prior, during the outbreak of the Undead, she had fled alongside her family and friends as part of a small group known as Mandy’s Crew, and had become separated amid the chaos. Since then, reconnecting with her family had proven nearly impossible, especially as the danger of going to crowded places left her increasingly reluctant to venture far from her path. Eventually, she found refuge in a deserted little town.

Fortune smiled upon her when she was taken in by a kind-hearted old woman named Granny Hilda. Hilda had a cellar stocked with sweet potatoes from the pre-apocalypse days, enabling both of them, an old woman and a young girl, to survive the harsh first year of The Last Times.

As people died or fled, the town saw fewer and fewer survivors, oddly leading to some semblance of security for Adelaide. However, the breaking point came when Granny Hilda eventually succumbed to the grueling environment, leaving Adelaide to bury her and turn her home into a rudimentary but effective sanctuary.

The seventh year of the Undead outbreak, with The Last Times reaching a critical point, resources within the little town had dwindled to nothing. Adelaide had no choice but to migrate.

In her years of self-imposed isolation, the world outside had spiraled into chaos, and she’d found herself alone for miles. Even upon arriving at Bridgemont, it lay eerily abandoned. The danger in the empty streets was palpable, but with no food or water left, she had to push onward. Unfortunately, the pesky Aunt Beatrice had lured her into a trap, drawing a horde of the Undead right behind her.

And now here she was.

Adelaide noticed Elias Ravenshade's reaction when she mentioned having friends; he simply nodded without any notable change in expression. A slight relief washed over her as the heavy weight on her chest lightened a little.

“My name is Elias Ravenshade, like the shadow of the raven. What’s yours?” He introduced himself, tucking away a climbing rope into his backpack. “Regardless, we should leave this place. There are plenty of the Undead inside the building, and it’ll be dark soon.”

His voice resonated with authority, reminiscent of a student council president organizing a charitable event, or a firefighter in charge of a safety drill—both trustworthy and formidable figures.

No matter what their future held, Adelaide realized that right now, her survival depended on sticking together with him, navigating out of this precarious situation and finding a place to rest for the night.

The hunger and aggression of the Undead only intensified as night fell, making them far more dangerous. In Ravenwood, human strength was faltering, so avoiding conflict was imperative.

Chapter 4

Downstairs, the Undead still huddled together, and it was still possible to change direction and slip past them. But if they waited until morning, the Undead would scatter once they lost their focus, creating a much bigger problem.

"I’m Adelaide Ravenwood, like the sea at the edge of the world, and the Ravenwoods are my people," she said proudly. She tightened the straps of her makeshift scythe and gripped the hilt with both hands. "Edric, you go first. I’ll cover you from the back. Let’s make this quick.”

Elias Ravenshade had initially overlooked her weapon, but now, as he took a closer look at it, he couldn't help but admire its rough, almost brutal simplicity. The serrated blade glinted under the faint light, and it was attached to a sturdy wooden staff, tightly wrapped in iron wire. While it lacked elegance, its functionality was undeniable.

He tested the weapon’s balance, twisting the connection point. It was solid, the wood made of heavy oak. “Nice weapon you’ve got here,” he commented.

It was light enough for a girl to wield while still having an impressive reach and cutting edge. This could prove advantageous in their fight.

Elias hadn’t seemed to notice her supply skills earlier; Adelaide had half-expected him to mock her ragged equipment. To her surprise, he had a keen eye for practicality. She felt a swell of pride. “I worked on this for a while.”

As she spoke, she glanced up, locking eyes with Elias, who was pleasing to look at—instead of the usual flickering glances, their gaze held steady. His defined eyebrows and bright, expressive eyes stood out. Each arch of his brows was perfectly sharp, conveying an almost artistic precision. His black, bright eyes held a glimmer of something—intelligence, perhaps.

The striking combination of his good looks and tall stance caught her off guard; the first man she encountered after leaving the basement was a real catch. What luck!

Their mutual gaze lingered just a moment longer. Elias raised an eyebrow, seemingly matching Adelaide's internal surprise. He looked impressed that an untidy woman with lackluster gear could have such a pretty, youthful face, even with grime smudged across her cheeks—a delightful surprise beneath the dirt.

“Let’s move; I’ll lead,” Elias said finally, securing his weapon and striding forward. “Keep your head on a swivel and watch your back.”

The sun was sinking fast, and they couldn't afford to linger. If they did, the creeping dusk would catch up with them, leaving them vulnerable to the dangers of the world that lay beyond their poor defenses.

Chapter 5

Adelaide Ravenwood hurried down the stairs behind Elias Ravenshade, finally understanding why he had chosen to rescue her from the inconvenient heights of the Fourth Chamber. Compared to the first floor, the Brother's Loft, and the third floor, teeming with the Undead, avoiding danger by heading straight for the fourth floor was far more efficient.

They both quickened their pace, propelling themselves down the stairs as fast as they could, hoping to be long gone by the time the Undead noticed any noise.

Yet, if it weren't for Aunt Beatrice, Adelaide mused, their escape might have gone more smoothly. The initial blood loss from her menstruation had been minor, but hours later, the smell was accumulating rapidly—humans like Edmund might not notice, but the Undead were incredibly sensitive.

Elias expertly tackled any obstacles in their way, throwing a glance over his shoulder to see a line of Undead hot on Adelaide's heels. Eyebrows raised in disbelief, he exclaimed, "What’s going on? Have these monsters gotten smarter?"

Adelaide, clutching a sickle and slicing through the closest Undead's skull, sputtered, “It’s just… I’m… bleeding…”

“Oh… are you okay? Hang in there, we need to get out of here!” Elias grasped her arm and pulled her forward, raising his other hand to swipe at the relentless horde trailing behind.

Adelaide’s gaze lingered behind her, and what she witnessed shattered her understanding of reality. From Elias’ outstretched fingers, a gust of force shot out—an invisible whirlwind that slammed into the approaching Undead. She couldn't see exactly what it was, but judging by the way several of the Undead were toppled, it expanded rapidly after bursting forth like a spiraling shockwave. Unfortunately, it didn’t last long; after sending five or six screaming Undead flying, the force dissipated.

Adelaide's eyes widened, her curiosity burning; she stared at Elias’ hand, searching for any evidence of a concealed high-pressure gadget, but there was nothing. However, now wasn’t the time to dwell on her questions. Their ordeal had drawn attention—Undead from across the street, previously distracted by a bank, would surely converge on their location. They needed to move, and fast.

With Elias pulling her along, her feet barely touched the ground. She was thankful for the physical conditioning she'd kept up during the apocalypse; though she felt a bit fatigued from the bleeding, her fitness allowed her to keep pace with Elias. He maneuvered them expertly through the grid of Bridgemont's streets, taking sharp turns without faltering.

Abandoned houses aged quickly without human upkeep; the thriving, once vibrant town had crumbled under the weight of decay in just six months since the outbreak. Abandoned vehicles littered the streets, rusting away in the elements, serving no purpose other than blocking the path of any survivors trying to flee. Shops along the road lay in ruins, beaten down by looters and then scorched by fires, remnants of chaos during the Undead’s initial surge.

The vestiges of humanity’s civilization were gradually erasing, whereas nature's reclaiming grasp was unyielding. Overgrown greenery flourished, with roots breaking through cement and cobblestones, fiercely grasping at the pavement.

Elias led Adelaide to a deceptively upscale part of Mandy, a neighborhood with well-kept row houses hidden beneath the dense foliage meant to maintain privacy. It had an air of safety.

There weren’t many Undead around, and with Elias’ familiarity here, Adelaide sensed he must have cleared out the area before, giving her a moment of reassurance.

Once inside a particularly well-preserved house, Elias slammed the door shut, finally shutting out the last of their pursuers. Both of them let out a long breath, relief flooding in, if only briefly. Their harrowing escape had left Adelaide shaking.

She leaned against the wall, gasping for breath, noticing that the elbow Elias had gripped was sore from her frantic escape. The survival training nurtured in the last six months paid off; she felt her body transforming, like she had leveled up from brass to diamond. But then she glanced at Elias – he was clearly in a league of his own.

“Are you hurt? Still bleeding?” Elias questioned, giving her a once-over as they both took a moment to recharge. He noticed no visible wounds on her exposed skin, nor any bloodstains on her clothes—her injury must be concealed on her back. She hadn’t cried out despite their tumultuous flight; this girl was tougher than she appeared.

Adelaide felt a warm flush creep onto her cheeks. “Umm… it’s just, I have a cut… down… there. Can you not look at my back?”

“...” Understanding dawned upon Elias, and he hurriedly averted his gaze, clearing his throat awkwardly. “Uh, right... You should handle that. I’ll… I’ll go find something to eat.”

With that, he turned and walked a bit away, clearly trying to give her some space.

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