Felicity's Beast World Apocalypse-Chapter 82: Contact

The road out of the city did not feel like escape. It felt like the world had exhaled and forgotten to inhale again.

Wind dragged across the open highway, carrying the dry scent of dust, old blood, and something faintly sweet and rotten that never quite left the air anymore. The sky was too blue for the end of the world. That was the cruelest part. It looked like a normal day.

Felicity walked in the center of a formation that no one had discussed and no one would ever admit existed.

Victor at the front, wings half-spread not for flight but for intimidation, cutting a silhouette against the broken horizon that warned anything with teeth to reconsider. Voss slightly to her right, shoulder close enough to brush hers if she swayed. Damien to her left, tail flicking slow arcs that were not idle, eyes constantly measuring distance and threat. Ivan behind. Sarge and Marx sweeping wider. Tommy orbiting like a caffeinated satellite.

They were not rationing anything. Packs were full. Powers maintained. Water plentiful.

If anything, the men looked restless.

And Felicity was very aware that if she so much as sighed, one of her husbands would scoop her up like she was a porcelain relic that did not belong on asphalt.

She tried not to look too pleased about that.

"I can walk," she said for the fourth time in twenty minutes.

Damien didn’t even look at her. "No one said you couldn’t."

"You keep hovering."

"That’s my hobby."

Felicity huffed and adjusted her jacket. Immediately Victor’s hand came back without him turning, fingers catching the loose collar and straightening it like he was correcting something sacred.

Her stomach did a small, embarrassing flip. "I was fine," she muttered.

Victor’s voice was calm. "You were crooked."

"I was not crooked."

"You were," Voss said mildly.

Felicity stared at him. "You’re all ganging up on me."

Damien smiled, entirely unashamed. "Correct."

Kai snorted from the flank. "You should just let them carry you. I would."

Felicity turned. "You would not."

Kai grinned. "In a heartbeat."

Sarge muttered, "He means something else."

Felicity frowned. "Means something else what."

Kai’s grin widened slowly, eyes glinting with trouble. "Nothing. Just that I’d volunteer."

"For what." 𝐟𝚛𝕖𝚎𝕨𝗲𝐛𝚗𝐨𝐯𝐞𝕝.𝐜𝗼𝗺

Sarge exhaled sharply through his nose. "Hydrate."

Felicity blinked. "What does hydration have to do with volunteering."

Tommy leaned into her space and whispered loudly, "It’s code for ’Marx needs supervision.’"

"I do not," Kai protested.

Voss’s gaze shifted toward Kai.

It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t dramatic.

It was a death sentence delivered via eye contact.

Kai immediately looked forward again. "I was speaking respectfully."

"You weren’t," Sarge said.

Felicity looked between them. "Why does everyone keep reacting like I missed something."

Damien leaned closer, brushing her shoulder. "Because you did."

"Miss what."

"Nothing," Victor said firmly.

Felicity narrowed her eyes. "That was suspicious."

Tommy nodded gravely. "Suspicious is our brand."

They continued walking.

The highway had begun to slope downward into a stretch where abandoned vehicles clogged two full lanes. Rusted doors hung open. Wind moved through them and produced low metallic moans that sounded almost human. Felicity shivered.

The moans answered.

Not from the wind.

From between the cars.

Victor’s posture changed in a single breath.

Wings lifted slightly. Spine straightened. Head angled.

"Contact," Sarge said quietly.

A shape lurched between the vehicles.

Then another.

Then five.

Zombies did not rush. They drifted, staggered, collapsed forward and pulled themselves upright again like puppets whose strings were frayed but not yet cut. One wore the remains of a highway patrol jacket. Another had a jaw hanging so loose it looked detachable.

Felicity’s heart kicked hard against her ribs There they were, She made sure she kept her buffs up.

The real rulers of the world.

Victor moved first.

He didn’t tell her to stay back because she was already behind him. His wing swept out fully now, a physical barrier. Voss stepped to the side, silent and lethal. Damien’s hand found the small of her back and stayed there, warm and steady.

Marx rolled his shoulders. "Finally."

"Shut up," Sarge muttered.

The first zombie stumbled into reach.

Victor caught it mid-lunge, fingers crushing its throat, and drove it backward into a car hood hard enough to dent metal. Bone snapped under his grip like dry twigs.

Voss slipped past him and eliminated two more in efficient, horrifying silence. A twist. A crack. A body dropped.

Damien moved differently. Controlled. Brutal. Tail hooking a leg, pulling one down, then a swift downward strike to end it.

Tommy darted in with reckless enthusiasm, but Sarge grabbed his collar mid charge and yanked him back just as a decayed hand swiped where his face had been.

"Focus," Sarge barked.

"I was focused," Tommy insisted, then ducked under Sarge’s arm to finish the fallen corpse properly.

Felicity watched, pulse racing. Not frozen. Not panicking. Just very aware of how close death walked to them at all times.

One broke through the line unexpectedly from between two vans, lunging wide toward her.

She didn’t even have time to inhale.

Voss was already there.

He intercepted it mid-stride, one arm around its neck, twisting with terrifying grace until the body folded in on itself and collapsed at her feet.

For a second, the world went silent except for Felicity’s breathing.

Voss looked at her.

"Still here," he said softly.

She nodded, throat tight. "Yeah."

Damien brushed his thumb against her back in a small, grounding circle.

Victor stepped back into formation like nothing had happened.

"Clear," Sarge confirmed.

Legend wiped blood off his blade and grinned. "Now can we carry her so she doesn’t step in brain matter."

Felicity gasped. "I am not stepping in brain matter."

Damien immediately scooped her up.

She yelped.

"I was joking!"

Damien held her against his chest like she weighed nothing. "Not risking it."

Felicity stared at him, face burning. "Put me down."

Victor glanced back, assessing. Then after half a second: "Let him."

Felicity’s eyes widened. "You too?"

Victor’s voice was flat. "I’d carry you, but I need my hands."

Ash coughed. "He means for zombies."

Sarge didn’t even bother hiding his smirk.

Felicity blinked. "Why would he need his hands for anything else."

Ash looked at Sarge. Sarge looked at the sky.

Casper (horse 2) slapped both hands over his face dramatically. "Protect the innocence."

Voss’s stare flicked toward Marx again.

Marx immediately raised both palms. "I didn’t say it."

Damien adjusted her slightly in his arms, entirely content. "Comfortable?"

Felicity hesitated.

Yes.

Annoyingly, embarrassingly, extremely yes.

"...Fine," she muttered.

Damien’s smile was bright and feral.

Victor resumed walking.

No one argued.

The formation adjusted around Damien carrying her as if it had always been the plan. Voss stayed close enough to block any lateral threat. Ivan covered rear. Sarge and Marx widened.

Felicity wrapped one hand around Damien’s jacket for balance and tried to ignore how safe it felt.

"This is ridiculous," she said softly.

"You’re royalty," Tommy replied.

"I am not."

kai smirked. "You kind of are."

"Stop."

"You have Four husbands and a private escort unit," Marx continued. "That’s basically apocalypse aristocracy."

Felicity frowned. "That’s not how aristocracy works."

Sarge muttered, "It does now."

She rolled her eyes.

Ahead, the road curved toward a burned-out overpass. Smoke stains still marked the concrete from some long-ago explosion. As they approached, Victor slowed.

There was movement under the bridge.

Not the slow drag of the undead.

Faster.

More coordinated.

Victor’s hand lifted.

Everyone froze.

A pack of six zombies shambled into view from the shadowed underside. Not alone. More behind them. The dark space under the overpass was thick with shapes.

A nest.

Luckily no scouts or higher tho.

Damien shifted her weight higher instinctively.

Felicity’s pulse quickened. "That’s... a lot."

Victor’s voice was calm. "We go through."

Rowan (horse 3) grinned. "Finally something interesting."

Sarge shot him a look. "You’re going first."

The fight was not chaotic.

It was surgical.

Victor tore through the front line with brutal precision, wings snapping outward to knock bodies aside. Voss moved like a shadow, eliminating anything that slipped past. Damien handed Felicity to Ivan without discussion and stepped into the fray.

Felicity’s feet hit the ground for all of two seconds before Ivan lifted her up again like she was made of glass.

"I can stand," she protested.

"Later," Ivan said calmly.

Tommy darted around them, fast and sharp, but he tripped into another zombie accidentally killing it.

Zombies spilled from beneath the bridge in ugly waves. Rotting hands clawed. Teeth snapped.

Sarge and Marx worked back-to-back, blades flashing.

One nearly reached Ivan from the rear.

Felicity saw it.

"Behind!"

Ivan pivoted before she finished the word and dropped it cleanly.

He glanced at her once.

"Good eyes."

Her heart pounded so hard she felt dizzy.

Within minutes, it was over.

Bodies littered the concrete.

The overpass fell quiet again.

Victor wiped his hands and looked back at her.

"Still want to walk."

Felicity swallowed, then lifted her chin stubbornly. "Yes."

Damien laughed softly.

Voss stepped closer, brushing decayed debris from the edge of her boot before she could even see it.

Marx leaned toward Sarge and murmured something that made Sarge choke on air.

Felicity frowned. "What."

Marx blinked innocently. "Nothing."

Sarge shook his head. "He said he likes when she yells orders."

"I did not yell," Felicity protested.

"You did," Kai said cheerfully. "It was very commanding."

Felicity felt her face heat. "I was just warning you."

Marx grinned slow and dangerous. "Sounded like more than a warning."

Voss’s stare landed on him again like a guillotine blade lowering by inches.

Marx coughed. "Respectfully."

Felicity looked between them, exasperated. "Why does it feel like I’m missing half this conversation."

Damien leaned close to her ear, voice low and warm. "Because you are."

She blinked. "What does that mean."

Victor cut in before anyone else could elaborate. "We move."

They moved.

The sun dipped lower, bleeding orange into the horizon.

The world looked almost beautiful in that light.

Almost forgivable.

As they crested a ridge, Felicity looked back toward where the city would be beyond the hills.

She imagined stone rising.

A cathedral.

Faith built from delusion.

Her stomach tightened.

"He’s not going to stop," she said quietly.

Victor’s voice was steel. "Neither are we."

She looked at her husbands.

At Voss, who had nearly broken his own neck protecting her.

At Damien, who would carry her across the entire continent without complaint.

At Victor, who would burn cities before he let her be taken again.

At Ivan that would Protect her forever while taking down anyone that looks at her weird.

Behind them, Sarge and Marx walked a little too close for men who pretended not to want her.

Tommy hummed.

While walking, Felicity felt something hard and cool graze the top of her panties. She jerked forward with a startled gasp, her cheeks flushing crimson. When the others turned with questioning looks, she caught Damien behind her, his expression all innocence as he murmured, "Sorry," though the slight curl at the corner of his mouth suggested otherwise.