Good Night: An Apocalypse Story

The next morning, Stephanie woke feeling better than she had in weeks. She stretched, her muscles loose and relaxed, her body humming with an unusual energy. The events of the previous day seemed to have only strengthened her, as though the exhaustion and hunger she’d felt before had been washed away overnight. Glancing over at the remains of the deer, she was surprised to see only bones, picked clean and scattered next to the charred ashes of the fire.

She blinked, rubbing her eyes. Had she really eaten that much? The entire deer?

It seemed impossible, but the evidence was there. Still, she didn’t feel bloated or sluggish. If anything, she felt lighter, more alert, like her body had burned through the meal with remarkable efficiency. Whatever strange pull she had felt yesterday was gone now, replaced by a deep sense of satisfaction.

Sitting up, Stephanie unwrapped the bandage from her arm, curious about the bite wound. Her eyes widened as she inspected it—seventy percent healed. The skin was smooth, pink, and fresh, almost as if the injury had happened weeks ago instead of just yesterday.

"The hell?" she muttered under her breath, tracing a finger over the nearly healed wound. The transformation, whatever it was, was speeding up. Her body was changing in ways she couldn’t fully understand yet—faster healing, sharper senses, more strength. It was like she was evolving, becoming something more than just human. But why? What was triggering it?

She shook her head. She couldn't afford to linger here trying to figure it out.

After a few more minutes of stretching and checking her gear, Stephanie packed up. She rolled up the deer hide and strapped it to the side of her bike, making sure everything was secure before kicking the engine to life. The familiar hum of the machine brought a small, comforting smile to her face. The cave, with its brief sense of safety, faded behind her as she rode back onto the forest trail.

The morning air was crisp and cool as she drove through the wilderness, the trees thick and alive with sounds of nature. The hunger that had gnawed at her the day before was gone, leaving her with nothing but a steady sense of focus. She felt good—better than good, actually.

As the forest opened up before her, the road ahead felt full of possibilities. Whatever was happening to her, she would figure it out. But for now, the most important thing was moving forward.

Stephanie sped down the cracked, overgrown road, the hum of her bike filling the otherwise still forest. She kept her eyes ahead, but the constant threat of Freaks was always on her mind. As if on cue, a Freak suddenly leapt from the trees, its pale, gnashing face coming straight at her.

With practiced reflexes, she hit the brakes just enough to slow down, swerving out of the way as the creature lunged. It screeched, its claws swiping the air just inches from her face, but she dodged it, revving the throttle and speeding past, leaving it behind in the dust.

Typical. Freaks were everywhere, and encounters like this had become almost second nature. She barely spared it a second thought, her focus already shifting back to the road ahead. But in her moment of distraction, she didn’t notice the wire stretched across the road—thin, almost invisible in the morning light.

It caught her off guard, snapping against her chest and throwing her off the bike. The world flipped as she hit the ground hard, the air knocked out of her lungs. Her bike skidded to a halt a few meters away as she rolled, groaning from the impact. Before she could fully process what had happened, she heard voices.

"We got someone!"

Panic surged through her. Instinctively, she scrambled to her feet, her muscles still aching from the fall. Looking up, she saw several figures rushing toward her from the edge of the forest, weapons in hand.

Raiders.

Stephanie reached for her knife, her fingers tightening around the hilt as she braced herself. The first man came at her with a bat, swinging wildly. She moved fast, dodging his attack and stabbing her blade deep into his neck. Blood spurted from the wound, and he collapsed, gargling his last breath.

But there was no time to think. Two more raiders jumped her from behind, grabbing her arms and holding her down. She struggled, but their grip was strong, pinning her in place. Before she could react, a woman appeared in front of her, anger blazing in her eyes.

With a cruel smile, the woman swung a bat into Stephanie’s stomach—once, twice, three times. Pain exploded in her gut, and she doubled over, gasping for air. Her vision blurred as nausea welled up inside her. The woman stepped closer, grabbing Stephanie’s chin, lifting her face to inspect her like some kind of trophy.

But the pain was too much. With each breath, it felt like her stomach was being torn apart. Before she could even think, vomit surged up her throat—but this wasn’t just bile.

It was acid.

The liquid hit the woman square in the face, and she screamed, stumbling back in shock. At first, she looked furious, her mouth opening to hurl more insults, but then her expression twisted into something far worse—horror. She touched her face, and her screams grew louder as her skin began to melt.

"My face!" she shrieked, her voice rising in panic as the acid ate away at her flesh, leaving her in excruciating pain. The woman fell to the ground, clawing at her melting skin, unable to stop the agony.

The men holding Stephanie recoiled in horror, their grips weakening as they stared at the woman writhing on the ground. That was all she needed.

Stephanie twisted free, slamming her fist into the face of the man on her right, sending him staggering back. The second man hesitated just long enough for her to bring her knee up into his chest, knocking the air out of him. As he crumpled, she spun and delivered a sharp kick to his head, sending him to the ground in an unconscious heap.

The first man was getting back to his feet, clutching his face where her punch had landed. Stephanie didn’t give him a chance to recover. She moved quickly, stepping in close and delivering a brutal kick to his head. The impact knocked him out cold, his body hitting the dirt with a dull thud.

The last raider tried to crawl away, blood dripping from his mouth, his eyes wide with fear. Stephanie’s heart pounded in her chest, the adrenaline surging through her veins, pushing her forward. She stalked toward him, her breathing ragged, her face twisted with determination.

Without hesitation, she raised her boot and stomped down hard on his head. Once, twice, three times, four times, five times, six times, seven times. His skull caved under the force of her blows, the sound of bone crunching beneath her feet. Blood pooled beneath him as his body went still, lifeless.

Stephanie stood over the corpse, her chest heaving. The forest was quiet now, save for the crackling sound of the dying woman’s acid-burned skin. Her stomach twisted—not from pain this time, but from the realization of what had just happened.

She looked down at her hands, still shaking from the fight. The acid vomit—how had that even happened? What was she becoming?

Stephanie groaned as she hauled her bike upright, brushing dirt off her pants. She quickly checked for damage, running her fingers over the frame. There were a few dents and scrapes, but nothing serious—nothing she couldn’t fix on the spot. Pulling out her small repair kit, she worked with practiced efficiency, tightening bolts and realigning the bent handlebar. Her hands moved automatically, guided by muscle memory and the years of survival training her father had drilled into her.

Once satisfied the bike was ready to ride, Stephanie turned her attention to the unconscious raider. The man lay crumpled on the ground, his chest rising and falling shallowly. She considered him for a moment, then made a decision. She wasn’t leaving him here—not yet.

She grabbed some rope from her pack and tied his hands and feet, looping the rope tightly around his ankles before securing him to the back of the bike. He wasn’t getting out of this easily. If his group had set up traps like that wire, she needed answers—now.

After securing the raider, she revved her bike to life and drove down the road until she spotted a small, rundown building. The structure looked abandoned, windows broken and walls cracked, but it would serve her purposes for the night. A place to extract the information she needed.

She dragged the man inside, dumping him unceremoniously onto the floor. Then she got to work. Securing the doors and windows, she made sure there were no Freaks nearby that could interrupt her.

The man groaned as he began to regain consciousness. Stephanie barely spared him a glance—she had other things to take care of first. She left him tied up inside, grabbing her bow as she headed back out into the surrounding wilderness. Hunting.

Within a couple of hours, she had bagged two rabbits, her arrows finding their marks with pinpoint accuracy. The strange energy she’d been feeling lately made everything sharper, easier—her aim, her stamina, even her instincts. She skinned and cooked the rabbits by the time the raider had fully woken up, his eyes blinking blearily as he struggled against his bindings.

Stephanie sat by the fire, chewing on the rabbit meat, her eyes cold as they fixed on him. The man groaned, fear settling into his face as he realized where he was—and who he was with.

“Where’s your base?” she asked, her voice calm, almost detached. She wasn’t in the mood for drawn-out conversations.

The raider spat blood onto the floor, his eyes defiant. “Go to hell.”

Stephanie sighed. She had been prepared for resistance. Her father’s lessons on interrogation echoed in her mind, the cold, clinical methods he had taught her to extract the truth when necessary. She didn’t enjoy this, but in the apocalypse, there was no room for mercy.

She took out her knife, running the blade over her fingertips thoughtfully. "I don't have time to play games. Let’s make this simple."

The raider’s eyes widened as she approached him. He started struggling harder against the ropes, panic setting in, but it was no use. She grabbed him by the collar and got to work, using techniques that would leave scars but keep him alive long enough to talk. Pain was a powerful motivator, her father had always said.

The man grunted and cursed through the first few rounds, refusing to give in, but Stephanie was patient. She didn’t rush the process, keeping her motions deliberate, methodical. Soon enough, the raider’s defiance began to crack.

“Fine! Fine, I’ll talk!” he gasped, his voice shaking. Sweat dripped from his brow, his face pale. “Our base…it’s northwest, about twenty clicks. Old refinery.”

Stephanie raised an eyebrow. “And settlements? Where are they?”

The raider hesitated, but another jab of her knife to his thigh loosened his tongue. “South—there’s a settlement south of here! Small, maybe fifty people. They’ve got supplies, UV lights—everything.”

Stephanie studied him for a moment, then wiped her blade on her pants and stood up. “Thanks.”

The man slumped in relief, thinking it was over.

But it wasn’t.

Stephanie moved silently, picking up her gear and rolling her shoulders. The sun was starting to set, and she didn’t have much time to reach the settlement before nightfall. She had no intention of letting the raider go—he was a threat, and in this world, threats didn’t get second chances.

As she packed her things onto her bike, she heard him whimpering behind her, struggling weakly against his bonds. She didn’t look back as she grabbed her water canteen and took a long swig, then walked over to him one last time.

“You won’t be following me,” she said coldly, her voice devoid of emotion. Then she left him tied there, knowing he wouldn’t last long—either the injuries or the Freaks would finish him off by nightfall.

The bike roared to life as Stephanie kicked it into gear, leaving the raider behind without a second glance. She didn’t have time to care about loose ends. Survival came first.

With the fading sunlight casting long shadows across the road, she sped toward the southern settlement, pushing the bike hard. If she kept a steady pace, she’d make it there before the Freaks came out.

The air felt cooler as dusk settled in, but Stephanie wasn’t worried. She had what she needed now—information, supplies, and a direction.

And in this world, that was enough.