Bloody Bonds

The world ended three months ago. One minute people were going to work, buying groceries, laughing; the next, a strange virus spread like wildfire—turning ordinary people into mindless, ravenous monsters with rotting skin and a hunger for flesh. Cities burned, governments fell, law vanished. Now it was just survival: kill or be killed, run or die.

Cesar Volkov leaned casually against the rusted metal railing of a half-collapsed shopping mall, spinning a long, serrated knife between his fingers like it was a toy. His fluffy blonde hair was messy from running, his blue eyes sparkling with reckless excitement even as groans and snarls echoed from below. He was covered in dirt, his black tank top stained with dried blood—some his, most definitely not.

“Fucking hell,” he muttered in thick Russian-accented English, grinning as he looked down at the swarm of undead shambling through the street below. “You ugly shits really don’t know when to quit, huh?”

He’d been separated from Anya and the rest of their group an hour ago, cornered while scavenging for supplies. He’d fought his way up here, killing at least a dozen of the things, and honestly? He was having the time of his life. This world was messy, cruel, terrifying—and perfect for someone like him. No rules, no lies, just pure, raw living.

He heard soft footsteps behind him—light, controlled, silent. Not a zombie, zombies dragged their feet and made noise.

Cesar didn’t turn right away. He kept spinning his knife, voice loud and teasing. “Took you long enough to find me, baby. Were you admiring the view or just too scared to come closer?”

He spun around fast, knife raised—and froze for half a second.

Standing there was the most gorgeous man Cesar had ever seen. Tall, broad-shouldered, built like a god, wearing worn but still intact tactical gear in dark green and black. His hair was short, jet-black, neat even in this mess. His face was sharp, jawline like a blade, skin smooth and tan, deep brown eyes staring at Cesar like he was something annoying stuck to the bottom of a shoe. A thin, pale scar cut across his left eyebrow, only making him look more dangerous and handsome. He held a rifle slung over one shoulder, a pistol at his hip, and a combat knife strapped to his thigh. Every line of his body screamed soldier—disciplined, lethal, cold.

He didn’t smile. Didn’t even blink. Just spoke in a deep, clear, heavy Chinese accent, voice flat and unamused. “Put the knife down. You’re making too much noise. You’re drawing them straight here.”

Cesar’s grin widened, eyes sweeping over him from head to toe, appreciating every inch. He twirled the knife again, slower, deliberately provocative. “Or what, tough guy? You gonna make me? I’d like to see you try.” He took a step closer, swaying slightly, playful and daring. “Name’s Cesar. Cesar Volkov. And you are… my lucky day, I hope.”

The man’s expression didn’t change. He just stared, eyes sharp, analyzing every movement. “Li Wei. And you’re an idiot. Laughing and playing while the dead are everywhere. You’ll get yourself killed before noon.”

“Ooh, cold and mean. My favorite type,” Cesar purred, stepping closer still, until only a foot separated them. He could smell gun oil, clean soap, and warm, masculine scent—even through the dust and rot of the city. “But hey… if I do get in trouble… you gonna save me, Li Wei? You look strong enough to carry me out of here.”

Li Wei’s jaw tightened. He looked like he wanted to leave, wanted to just ignore this crazy blonde brat and keep moving to his objective. But then a loud, guttural snarl came from the stairwell behind them—loud, close, too close.

Li Wei’s hand flew to his pistol instantly, movements lightning fast. “Get behind me. Now.”

“Bossy~” Cesar teased, but he moved anyway, knife raised high.

The door burst open. Three huge, mutated zombies—faster, stronger, bigger than the regular ones—charged out, mouths open, black blood dripping. Li Wei fired twice, headshots, clean and perfect. Two dropped instantly. The third lunged at Cesar.

Instead of running, Cesar laughed, ducked under its arms, and drove his knife straight up through its jaw and into its brain, twisting hard before yanking it out. Black gore splattered all over his face and chest. He wiped it away with a grin, looking up at Li Wei, eyes shining.

“See? I don’t need saving, soldier boy. But thanks for caring~”

Li Wei lowered his gun, staring at Cesar like he was some kind of impossible creature—equal parts dangerous, stupid, and mesmerizing. He turned sharply and started walking toward the other exit. “Come on. If you want to die, do it somewhere else. You’re too loud to leave behind.”

Cesar hurried after him, bouncing on his heels, already attached. “Aww! You do like me! Admit it, Wei Wei—you’re stuck with me now!”

Li Wei didn’t answer. But he didn’t leave him either.