Untouched by the Outbreak

Yumi sat quietly inside the abandoned store, relishing the warmth of her hot coffee in the chilly air. Her gaze swept across the room to the windows, where her prototype zombies stood guard, their eyes scanning the area with unwavering vigilance. These zombies, different from the common mindless hordes, were specifically engineered by her to protect her at all costs.

They wouldn't attack her, nor would they let any other zombie get close.

She sighed, pulling her jacket tighter around her as she opened a cup of instant ramen. The small portable gas burner flickered gently as she boiled water in her tiny kettle, the steam rising in soft tendrils. In the silence, the soft crackling of the flame and the distant groans of the undead were the only sounds.

Yumi had been on the run for what felt like an eternity, darting from one place to another, always staying just one step ahead of the government that wanted to capture her. She knew they were relentless. Her father, Dr. Kurose, had been executed before the outbreak, and now they were after her too. She had something they wanted—knowledge, secrets, the key to controlling the undead.

But she wouldn't let them get her.

As the hot water seeped into the ramen cup, she thought back to the countless places she had hidden, the narrow escapes, and the near misses with government squads. Yumi had become an expert at disappearing, blending in, and living off whatever she could find in the ruins of the old world.

Her hands wrapped around the warm cup of coffee again, and she took a slow sip, savoring the heat that spread through her body. As dangerous as her situation was, these quiet moments—away from the constant threat of capture—felt like a small victory. Her zombies kept her safe, and for now, she could breathe.

But she knew it wouldn't last forever.

Sooner or later, the government would find her. She had to stay sharp, always moving, always watching. And when that time came, she'd be ready. For now, though, Yumi allowed herself a moment of peace, savoring her simple meal and the solace of being alive another day.

Yumi grimaced as she looked at her reflection in a broken, dirty mirror propped against the wall of the abandoned store. It had been so long since she'd had a proper bath or shower—probably the entire duration of the harsh winter. She ran her fingers through her tangled hair, feeling the dirt and grime that clung to her skin.

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Her body ached for warmth, for the comfort of a hot shower to wash away the filth of months on the run.

But winter had frozen everything. The rivers, the lakes, even the streams near the towns—everything was encased in thick layers of ice. The water she did manage to find in bottles from scavenged shops was for drinking, a precious resource she couldn't waste on luxuries like cleaning herself.

She often warmed the bottles over her small portable burner, melting the ice just enough to have something to drink. There was no way to waste it on a shower.

She stared at her hands, the calloused and dirt-streaked fingers a reminder of how much she'd endured since the world had fallen apart. Her body was dirty, but her survival instincts were sharper than ever. She wanted—no, craved—the sensation of warm water on her skin, the feeling of being clean again. But she knew that in this world, such simple comforts were luxuries she couldn't afford.

Yumi sighed and took another sip of her coffee, feeling its warmth radiate through her chest. One day, when the ice melted and the world thawed, she promised herself she'd find a way to take that shower. But for now, survival came first. She would keep moving, scavenging, and staying out of the government's grasp.

Yumi glanced around, her eyes settling on her prototypes—mutated zombies she had engineered to protect her. They stood silently, watching over her like loyal sentinels. Their presence was the only reason she had survived this long. She knew she needed to find a safe place to lock herself in for the night, somewhere she could sleep without fear while her prototypes guarded both inside and outside.

The abandoned store had served her well for the moment, but it wasn't secure enough. She couldn't afford to let her guard down for long. She reached for her small stash of food: an instant cup of ramen, a pack of instant coffee, and a couple of cans of food. She packed them carefully into her worn-out bag. It wasn't much, but it was enough to keep her going for a few more days.

Rice, real food—those were cravings she couldn't satisfy now. Survival meant making do with whatever she could scavenge.

Her portable gas burner was her most valuable tool, but she knew the gas wouldn't last forever. Every time she used it, the precious fuel dwindled. She had to be careful, to ration it for only the coldest nights or when she needed to melt frozen water. Once winter ended, she hoped to find more resources or scavenge a larger town where she could restock. But for now, she had to be frugal.

As she zipped her bag, Yumi looked outside again. The world was still blanketed in ice and snow, but she could feel the faintest hint of the season shifting. In another week or so, the brutal winter would finally end. When it did, she would be able to move more freely, and perhaps even find a place to settle down for a while.

But until then, she would survive as she always had—by staying one step ahead of danger and relying on her prototypes to keep her safe.

Yumi's fingers tightened around the grip of the gun tucked into her waist, the cold metal a reminder of the only real protection she had if things went wrong. The soldiers had chased her before, and she knew they would again. They were relentless, desperate to get their hands on her father's research. But Yumi wasn't afraid of them. Not with her prototypes by her side.

Those soldiers had no idea what they were up against, but Yumi knew better than to take chances. Humans, after all, were far crueler than any zombie.

She smirked to herself, the memory of her father's research burning away in the flames still fresh in her mind. The government, with all their demands for a cure, their desperate attempts to reclaim control of a world they had lost—it all meant nothing to her now. They had taken everything from her, and in return, she had given them nothing. The documents they sought were nothing but ashes.

"Cure? screw that," Yumi muttered under her breath. The world didn't need a cure. The world didn't need saving. She didn't care about the survivors or the soldiers, or the pathetic remains of what used to be humanity. All she cared about now was staying alive—and staying free.

And for that, her gun and her prototypes were more than enough.

The cold air bit at her skin as she stood, packing away the last of her things. It was time to move again, to find a more secure place before nightfall. But no matter how far she ran, she would always be ready for the day the soldiers came again. They wanted her father's legacy, but they would never get it. The only legacy Yumi cared about now was her own survival.

Yumi sighed as she slung her bag over her shoulder, the weight of her survival tools digging into her back. Despite the cold, her mind wandered to the one thing she craved more than anything—a place to call home. The idea seemed like a distant dream, something she had lost the right to long ago.

She had been on the run for so long, always moving from one ruined town to another, scavenging whatever she could to survive. But the thought of settling down, of finding a place where she could stop running, where she could sleep without fear—it lingered in her mind, teasing her with the promise of peace.

Her prototypes were the closest thing she had to companions now, standing guard like loyal sentinels, their glowing eyes scanning the empty streets around her. They protected her, and in a way, they had become her makeshift family. But a real home? A place where she didn't have to rely on constant vigilance, where she could rest and maybe even rebuild some semblance of normalcy?

That's what she wanted more than anything.

She gazed out at the barren, frozen landscape. This place wasn't it, not yet. The snow would soon melt, and she would move on again, searching for somewhere better. But deep down, she hoped that one day, she could stop. One day, she would find a place where she didn't have to keep running, where she could carve out a little corner of this broken world for herself—a place she could finally call home.

Until then, Yumi knew she had to keep moving. The world was still dangerous, and staying in one place too long would only invite trouble. But the thought of a real home kept her going, kept her pushing forward, even when everything else felt hopeless.