Surviving the Apocalypse With My Yandere Ex-Girlfriend-Chapter 26: Not much to loose

"FUCKING FINE! FINE!!!"

The woman’s scream tore through the room, raw and breaking. Her face was blotchy red, streaked with water and snot, hair plastered to her skull in dark blonde ropes. The towel hung over her face like a shroud, heavy with water, dripping steadily onto her chest.

Aubrey held it there with one hand, unmoving.

The woman bucked in the chair, gasping, sucking air through her teeth like a drowning animal finally breaking the surface.

"I’ll—" she choked, coughing hard, chest heaving. "I’ll fucking... tell you. Jesus Christ— just stop with that bullshit."

Aubrey waited.

Three seconds.

Four.

Then she lifted the towel away.

Light returned to the woman’s face in a harsh spill. She blinked wildly, sucking in air, tears streaming as she dragged breath after breath into her lungs. Her wrists strained uselessly against the restraints.

Aubrey leaned forward slightly, water dripping from her gloves onto the concrete.

"Talk," she said flatly.

The woman laughed once— a hysterical, broken sound — and then immediately sobbed.

"The Crucible..," she rasped. "It’s not candles and chanting and summoning demons, okay? That’s just the aesthetic. The branding."

Aubrey’s eyes didn’t change.

"The Crucible believes in patterns," the woman continued, words spilling out now, panicked, breathless. "In data. Predictive models. They think humanity keeps producing the same... types. Over and over. People who can hold things other people can’t."

She swallowed hard.

"At first I thought it was just because of stolen weapons...but it’s way more fucked up than that—.."

Aubrey’s grip tightened on the towel.

"They want perfect hosts. Stabilizers. Controllers. Whatever label they’re using this year."

"And Adrian?" she asked quietly.

The woman nodded frantically. "He fits. Too well."

Her voice cracked. "Age range. Trauma exposure at key developmental stages. Psychological resilience mixed with dissociation. The kind that doesn’t break— it adapts."

Aubrey felt something cold coil in her stomach.

"They pulled records," the woman said. "F— from hospital visits, school psych evaluations, Juvie records. They know genetic markers. Cortisol responses. Even environmental exposure — violence, stress, loss. All of it lines up. Like he was... built for it."

Terri’s blood ran cold. Aubrey’s fists tightened. None of this was a coincidence?

How long had the Crucible been watching Adrian...?"

"For what?" Aubrey demanded.

The woman shook her head, tears flying. "I don’t know! I swear to God, I don’t. They don’t tell people like me the endgame. Just that he’s a target profile. A keystone. Someone worth burning cities for."

She looked up at Aubrey then, eyes wild, pleading.

"It’s just some satanic bullshit with lab coats, I promise. That’s all I fucking know. Please."

Silence swallowed the room.

The drip of water echoed loud.

Aubrey straightened slowly, the towel hanging loose in her hand.

"We’re done here." She spat coldly, shoving the wet towel into Terri’s arms as she stormed off.

Terri followed frantically, leaving Cherie in the cold room— still panting.

My head rested against Lila’s bare chest, pressed close to the rise and fall of her heartbeat. Warmth radiated from her skin, slow and steady. One of her hands traced gentle patterns through my hair, careful, deliberate, as if she could soothe the jagged edges of my thoughts with just a touch.

I didn’t even know what I’d just done—, what lines I crossed— but for this moment, the guilt in my stomach twisted itself into a quieter knot. Her presence stole my breath, muffled the chaos.

"You were so great, Adrian..."

Her voice was low, intimate, yet it carried a weight I hadn’t expected. I lifted my head slowly, meeting her gaze. I really looked at her, seeing her eyes flicker with something beyond sadistic violence, beyond the world we’d been thrown into.

I swallowed hard. How could I have claimed to love someone and then watch them spiral without lifting a finger?

A smile cracked her lips, small, teasing, fragile.

"What’s up?" she murmured, easing me back down onto her chest.

I let myself sink, letting the softness of her warmth blur the edges of my pain. But a dull ache in my mind refused to leave. Lila was infected— her veins carried something monstrous— but somehow, she didn’t act like the rest. It was like she was tethered to me, her humanity shining through the sickness.

Her love was stronger than the bloodlust clawing at her.

I’m so stupid.

...it was my job to fix whatever this was. To find a cure. To hunt down whatever could return her fully to me, to us.

To any semblance of normalcy.

My fingers clenched the blankets, knuckles whitening, as her hand continued its steady rhythm over my hair. I closed my eyes again, letting the warmth of her chest, the beat of her heart, and the scent of her skin ground me.

I wasn’t finding that in Chicago, and I knew that.

Morning spilled through the high windows, soft and unrelenting, catching dust motes in the air like tiny stars. Lila’s eyes fluttered open, slow, reluctant.

Her hands instinctively reached for the warmth beside her— then froze. She was the only one in bed.

"Adrian?" Her voice trembled, barely audible, swallowed by the quiet hum of activity outside.

She swung her legs over the side of the bed, bare feet grazing the cold floor. Panic prickled at the back of her neck as she moved toward the door, each step echoing softly.

The camp outside was alive. Morning light hit the tents, the scattered gear, and the people already moving with precision, almost mechanical. Boxes were carried, fires tended, murmurs of coordination threading through the air. The unforgiving hue burned at her retinas— Lila lifting a palm to shield her eyes as she scanned desperately for him.

Then she saw Aubrey, balancing a box in both her hands. Relief and irritation warred within her.

"Jesus, Lila. Put on some clothes. You’re practically naked." Aubrey muttered without looking up, as if the fact was mundane.

"Where’s Adrian?" Lila demanded, cutting through the woman’s half joke.

Aubrey paused, frowned, and pointed.

"He’s over there—.."

Lila was already moving.

The morning sun hit the back of my neck, sharp and insistent, as I rubbed at the stiff muscles there. The camp was already alive with movement— the crack of wooden crates, the shuffle of boots, the low hum of murmured orders.

"Did you find a radio we could use?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady over the din.

Terri’s face lit up, a glint of braces catching the sunlight.

"Yep!"

She held up a dust-covered radio, like it was a prize. Her smile always had that way of settling the chaos in my chest for a moment. I returned it, genuine.

That could work.

Out of the corner of my eye, movement— fast, sharp. Lila, half-dressed, stormed toward us like a hurricane. My brow furrowed.

"Lila—where are your clothes...?" My words caught somewhere between confusion and disbelief.

Terri froze, the brightness in her face dimming under the weight of Lila’s glare.

"W—we’ll talk later, Adrian..."

She quickly disappeared into the bustle of the camp before I could say anything else.

I turned back to Lila. Her features softened almost immediately once Terri was gone, a flicker of warmth returning.

"Why weren’t you in bed when I woke up, my love?" She asked, cautious.

"...I had to finalize some stuff,"

Her glare sharpened

"We’re...uhm, leaving Chicago with a few others. Some are staying behind to hold down the fort."

Before Lila was able to respond, someone tapped my shoulder. A bearded man holding a scavenging rifle.

"The supplies are loaded, Adrian. Let me know when you’re ready to depart."

I looked at Lila nervously, then back at the man.

"Thank you, Sargeant Hale. I will."

He gave a nod, before walking off. I ran a hand through my hair.

She didn’t wait.

"What, you’re some full-fledged leader for these people now?" Her voice was incredulous, tinged with frustration.

"I just thought it’d be good to have people on board..." I said, trying to sound calm, rational.

Her arms tightened across her chest, and her eyes glinted with something sharp— anger, disbelief, maybe disappointment. "I thought we were gonna leave these freaks after you helped them. Come on, Adrian... we don’t need them."

I swallowed, feeling the divide between us widen. The sun seemed to climb higher, indifferent, as if mocking my uncertainty.

"Lila...please, just trust me."

Her eyes held mine, sharp, searching, flickering between defiance and doubt. Time stretched thin, the hum of the camp around us fading into something distant and slow. Then, a soft sigh escaped her lips—resignation. Relief warmed my chest at that.

"Adrian!!! Why the hell are we still stalling???"

Aubrey’s voice cut through my thoughts like a whip, harsh and impatient. My jaw tightened. I ran a hand down my face, trying to swallow my frustration before it spilled over.

I glanced back at Lila. Her arms were crossed, one brow raised, still exuding that fiery stubbornness I had gotten used to by now.

I smiled, a small, teasing curve that barely touched my weariness.

"Go put on some clothes, will you? People are staring."

I said softly, my fingers brushing the side of her face, a gentle tap that said more than words ever could.

She gave a mock glare, lips pressing into a thin line, before finally stepping back, disappearing into the bustle of the camp. I let her go, eyes following her retreating figure, the weight in my chest easing ever so slightly.

I exhaled slowly, adjusting the strap of my pack, and let myself move forward. It was scary leaving the only city I knew and love, but at least I wasn’t alone.