The forest was quiet.
Too quiet.
But for once, it wasn't a warning.
It was a blessing.
The survivors of the train—from Asher and Ethan to Jason, Sienna, Leo, Malik, Jordy, Casey, and little Mia—had finally stopped running. They'd set up a temporary camp on the edge of a dry, cracked riverbed under a broken freeway overpass, using supplies they salvaged from the ruins of the underground lab and whatever remained from the train.
For the first time in weeks, no infected, no alarms, no screaming.
Just the wind, the rustling of dry leaves, and the rhythmic chirping of crickets.
Asher stood near a fire pit they'd constructed out of dented steel plates. Mia, as always, hovered close to his side, clinging to the oversized hoodie she'd started calling her "zombie shield."
Ethan returned from patrol with a smug grin and a pair of water bottles. "Guess who didn't get eaten?"
Asher smirked. "The cockroach of the group?"
"I'm insulted. But also accurate."
Jason and Elara were setting up a better barricade using fence posts and a shopping cart someone had dragged from the roadside. Jordy and Malik were… less helpful.
"Behold," Jordy declared dramatically, balancing a can of baked beans on his head, "I am Bean-Man, protector of all legumes!"
Malik threw a small rock at him. "Sit down before you embarrass your entire bloodline."
"I've been doing that since I was six," Jordy said, catching the bean can mid-fall. "It's a family tradition."
Leo and Sienna were arranging what little food they had left. A few squashed granola bars, some crackers, and a miracle: a half-bag of marshmallows that had survived the apocalypse. Sienna made the executive decision that tonight, they'd have marshmallows. No negotiations.
Asher finally sat down on a log beside Ethan.
Mia climbed into Asher's lap and leaned her head against his chest.
"She's so small," Ethan whispered. "And still smiling."
Asher glanced down at her. "Yeah. Sometimes I think she's the strongest of us."
They looked around the group—everyone tired, bruised, still wearing bloodstained clothes—but there was laughter. There was teasing. There was even someone trying to whistle badly.
It wasn't much. But it was enough.
That night, under a canopy of stars and beside the crackling fire, Jordy stood up with something glittering in his hand.
"What's that?" Malik asked warily.
"It's my karaoke mic!" Jordy said proudly. "Survived the train, the explosion, AND the zombie in the lab that tried to eat my foot."
"Destroy it," Jason grunted.
"Never. This baby is our morale booster. And tonight…" He tapped the mic, which sparked and gave a feeble pop. "We sing."
"No," Casey said, flat.
"Yes," Mia chirped.
Ethan raised an eyebrow. "You sure about this?"
"She's five," Asher said. "She has no taste yet."
Mia stuck out her tongue at him, giggling.
Jordy opened the festivities by singing "My Heart Will Go On" in a deliberately horrible falsetto that made Leo pretend to faint, Sienna cover her ears, and Jason mutter something about jumping into a pit.
Then Malik stood up and performed a passionate version of "Eye of the Tiger" using only animal impressions.
Sienna, surprisingly, belted out a solid version of a Hindi pop song that had Mia clapping and dancing around the fire.
Even Ethan took a turn, singing a deliberately awful country song about loving a zombie who ate his leg but not his heart.
The laughter was real.
Unfiltered.
Unforced.
Later that night, Mia, wrapped in her blanket, snuggled between Asher and Ethan inside their shared tent.
"Daddy?"
Both boys blinked.
Asher pointed to Ethan. "He's Daddy."
Ethan pointed to Asher. "He's Dad."
Mia giggled. "You're both Daddy-Dads."
Asher smiled faintly. "That's a lot of responsibility."
"You already do it," she said softly. "You hug me when I cry. You give me your jacket when it's cold. And Ethan teaches me how to hold a bat like a boss."
Ethan chuckled. "Well, yeah. If you're gonna survive a zombie world, might as well hit home runs."
She yawned. "Do zombies dream?"
"I hope not," Asher said, brushing her hair back. "Let's keep the dreams for us."
Outside, the others were still awake, keeping half an eye on watch, half an ear on the conversation.
Jason sat with his back to a tree, finally relaxing enough to smoke a single hand-rolled cigarette. Sienna rested her head on her brother's shoulder. Jordy and Malik argued over whether marshmallows were better burned or golden brown.
"We're not going to have many more nights like this," Elara said quietly to Casey.
"Then let's make this one last," Casey replied.
Asher lay awake, long after Mia had drifted off.
Ethan was beside him, his breathing slow, even. Their fingers touched between the blanket folds.
It wasn't much. But it said everything.
They hadn't been caught yet.
They were still hiding their relationship—still protecting it from judgment, confusion, the chaos of survival.
But Asher was starting to wonder how long they could keep it hidden.
How long should they?
Ethan, eyes still closed, whispered, "You're staring again."
"Sorry."
"Don't be. I like it when you look at me like that."
Asher smiled in the dark.
"I think… someday, when this is all over," Ethan continued, "we're going to take Mia to a park. We'll have ice cream, and she'll get it all over her face. And no one will try to kill us."
"I want that," Asher said. "More than anything."
"Then we fight for it."
"Together?"
Ethan finally opened his eyes. "Always."
In the quietest hour of night, something shifted in the air.
A bird called.
A distant thump.
But no danger came.
Because for once, they had peace.