Liam stood drenched in blood, a scalpel clutched in his hand, its tip still dripping crimson onto the floor. The pungent scent of blood wafted from the lounge, permeating the living room. He resembled a deranged butcher who had just committed murder. His eyes were unsettlingly calm—not the gaze one would expect from someone in such a state.
Everyone in the living room was stunned. Manila, cigarette dangling from her lips, stared blankly ahead, oblivious even as ash fell onto her clothes. Laura, beside Old Mike, widened her eyes and covered her mouth in horror.
As anticipated, Liam stepped through the living room, the others' eyes tracking his movement. He passed by Christine and Manila, crouching down beside them.
"What did you do?" Manila quickly removed the cigarette from her mouth and dropped it to the floor, her voice trembling as she looked at Liam. She seemed to suspect the truth but found it hard to believe.
Liam raised an eyebrow, smirked, and gave her a look that said, "Take a guess." He then turned his attention to Christine.
"Smoking at such a young age isn't good for you. What will you do in the future?" he said with a smile, taking the cigarette from her mouth and extinguishing it underfoot. Christine recoiled slightly, crossing her arms and looking at Liam with a mix of fear and curiosity.
"Oh my God, you killed him!" a voice cried out from behind Liam. Turning, he saw Old Mike and Laura standing at the lounge door. Old Mike peered inside while Laura gasped, pulling him back and staring at Liam in shock.
Liam shrugged, his lips twitching as if to say something. Christine's eyes lit up, trying to see past Liam into the lounge, but her angle didn't allow it. Her gaze returned to Liam, who, despite being covered in blood, now seemed different to her.
"Jason, come help me," Liam called, standing up and heading into the lounge. Jason hesitated, glancing around. Old Mike nodded subtly, and Jason followed Liam.
"Oh God, what did you do to him?" Jason recoiled at the sight of Andrew's mutilated body, nearly vomiting. Despite having faced zombies, this was different—Andrew's death was gruesome and unnatural.
Liam sighed, opening the lounge window. The stench of blood wafted out, attracting the zombies outside, whose shrieks filled the room. "He kept struggling," Liam explained, grabbing Andrew's limp arms. "Help me throw him out." Andrew was heavy, and Liam couldn't manage alone.
The others gathered at the lounge door. Manila tried to cover Christine's eyes, but she pushed her hand away. Despite the gruesome scene, Christine showed no discomfort—perhaps because Andrew had once tried to harm her. Her eyes shifted between Andrew and Liam.
Thud! Andrew's body landed outside, immediately attracting the zombies, who began devouring him. Liam watched briefly before closing the window, muffling the sounds. He picked up the travel bag Jason had used and exited the lounge, shutting the door firmly.
"Anyone hungry?" Liam tossed the bag onto the old coffee table between the sofas, removing his bloodied T-shirt as he headed to the bathroom. The door closed behind him.
Jason looked down at his own blood-stained clothes, realizing it would be a while before he could clean up. He wiped his hands on his shirt and considered opening the travel bag but hesitated, noticing the others' reluctance. Embarrassed, he straightened up.
Manila, sensing their hesitation, approached the coffee table and unzipped the bag, revealing various foods—chocolate, canned meat, bread, ham—and other items like cigarettes, gum, and condoms. She had packed them herself.
"It's okay. Liam… isn't so bad," Manila said, handing out food. She had intended to say he was great but reconsidered, recalling his earlier behavior. She understood their fear—Liam had brutally killed Andrew, who posed no immediate threat. It showed he wasn't as gentle as he appeared. They feared he might become another Andrew, especially since he now held the gun.
Fortunately, Manila's actions eased their concerns. They sat on sofas and chairs, eating. Manila leaned against the lounge wall, eating chocolate and staring at the bloodstains. After a moment, she finished the remaining chocolate, wiped her mouth, and entered the bathroom. The door closed behind her.
Inside the small bathroom, dimly lit by yellow light, "Hi," Manila said, leaning against the door, arms crossed, tilting her head at Liam. "Hi," he replied, glancing at her before returning to shaving in the mirror, wearing only black shorts.
"I'm here to apologize. I'm sorry for saying you're not a man." Manila said, tracing her finger along the wall.
"It's fine," Liam replied without turning. The bathroom fell silent again.
"You don't need to shave. Men your age look good with some stubble. It might attract girls like Christine," Manila teased, pointing toward the door.
"Just a habit," Liam responded, continuing to shave. He preferred being clean-shaven and had found a razor in the bathroom.
The silence returned. Manila stepped forward, placing her hand on the sink, trying to catch Liam's eye in the mirror.
"Are you still mad at me?" Manila asked suddenly, taking another small step forward. Her hand rested on the sink's edge, her voice quiet, almost tentative, like she was trying to read his mood through the back of his head.
"No," Liam replied flatly.
"Do you want me to make it up to you?" she whispered, inching even closer. Her fingers reached for his cheek, her touch slow and deliberate. The soft weight of her chest pressed lightly against his bare arm, warm and unmistakable. She was pretending not to hear his answer, or maybe she just didn't care.
Liam lowered the razor and turned toward her. Their faces were close now, the cramped bathroom shrinking even more around them. He frowned a little. "Do you always seduce men like this?"
It came out colder than he'd meant. It hit her like a slap.
Even if Manila had been a prostitute before the world ended, what she did to survive was business, not hunger. Seducing someone with no intention of gain—if not from lust, then from desperation—could only be called something else. And Liam had just said it aloud, not cruelly, but with that brutal clarity of someone who didn't know how to lie.
"So that's how you see me?" Her hand froze on his cheek, the smile slipping from her face, and her eyes went red instantly.
"Wait, I didn't mean—" Liam realized it a second too late.
She turned away, wiping at her eyes and reaching for the door, but Liam stepped forward quickly and caught her arm. "Manila, wait. Let me explain. That wasn't what I meant."
She spun around, eyes sharp with something between fury and ache. And then, without another word, she shoved him backward.
He stumbled slightly, his back hitting the tiled wall—and before he could get another word out, she surged forward, grabbed his face with both hands, and kissed him hard.
The kiss came out of nowhere, sudden and full of fire. There was no pause, no buildup, just heat and defiance and everything she hadn't said crashing into his mouth.
Liam didn't have time to think.