Strongest Boyfriend In The Apocalypse: Every Girl Depends On Me!

Chapter 54: Ethan’s Objection

The streets at the bottom of the skyscrapers were nothing like the world Ethan remembered, not even close, because the place felt less like a city and more like a graveyard that had been stretched endlessly in every direction, with broken buildings, crushed cars, scattered bones, dried blood, torn clothes, and the constant smell of rot and decay hanging in the air like a heavy fog that refused to leave.

The group moved slowly through the ruins, their steps careful, their weapons raised, their eyes constantly scanning the shadows, because every corner felt like a trap and every broken doorway felt like a mouth waiting to swallow them whole.

Eva walked between Ethan and Helen, her steps slower than before, her body weaker, her breathing heavier, and her left arm already wrapped in a torn cloth that was slowly darkening with blood, while her face was pale and her eyes looked tired in a way that wasn’t normal tiredness, but the kind that came from something spreading inside the body. Everyone could see it. Everyone could feel it. No one needed to say it out loud. They all knew what it meant.

She had been bitten.

And in this world, that meant only one thing.

Death.

Then transformation.

Then another monster added to the endless horde.

The silence between them was heavy, thick, and painful, the kind that presses on the chest and makes it hard to breathe, because no one wanted to say the truth even though everyone already knew it. The only sounds were the distant groans of zombies somewhere in the ruined streets, the crunch of broken glass under their boots, and Eva’s slow breathing as she tried her best to stay strong.

At one point, Officer Stokes finally broke the silence, his voice low but firm, his face hard with experience and survival instinct rather than emotion.

"Ethan," he said slowly, "you know what has to be done."

Ethan didn’t respond immediately, his eyes fixed forward, his jaw tight, his hands clenched around his weapon.

"Before she turns," Officer Stokes continued, "before she loses control and puts everyone at risk, you have to do what you have to do."

Ethan stopped walking.

Everyone else stopped too.

He turned slowly to face Stokes, his eyes burning with anger and pain at the same time.

"No," he said firmly. "I’m not killing her."

Stokes sighed deeply, frustration written all over his face.

"Does that mean you can help her survive," he said, his voice rising, "come on, we both know there’s only one way out, and it’s to kill her already before she becomes a problem."

Ethan stepped closer to him, his voice low but heavy with emotion.

"I said no," he repeated. "We are going to find a way."

"A way to what," Stokes snapped, "defy biology, defy infection, defy reality, defy death, because that’s what you’re talking about right now."

"I don’t care," Ethan said. "I’m not killing her."

Eva stood there listening to everything, her eyes wet, her lips trembling slightly, but she didn’t speak, because she already knew the truth too, and hearing them argue about her life made her chest hurt more than the bite itself.

They continued moving through the streets, killing zombies along the way, fighting through small groups, clearing paths, stepping over bodies, and pushing forward through the ruined city, while the smell of death grew stronger with every step they took.

Corpses were everywhere, half eaten, burned, crushed, torn apart, and left behind like trash, and the buildings around them looked empty and dead, windows broken, doors smashed, walls stained with blood and dirt, the once vibrant Atlanta now looking like a city that had been dragged through hell and abandoned.

Ethan kept moving forward, but his heart was heavy, because he was seeing the city he grew up hearing about, the city that once held life, dreams, families, and hope, now reduced to ruins and monsters.

Eventually, they reached Mason’s Street.

The moment Ethan saw the sign, his heart jumped in his chest.

This was it.

This was where his family lived.

This was where his life used to be.

Without waiting, he broke into a run, ignoring the others, rushing toward the apartment building, his mind filled with fear and hope at the same time, his heart beating so hard it felt like it would tear through his chest.

He burst inside the building and started shouting, his voice echoing through the empty halls.

"Mom!"

"Eva!"

"Mom, are you there!"

"It’s me!"

His voice bounced off the walls, but there was no response.

He ran up the stairs, checking rooms, doors, hallways, calling out again and again.

"Mom!"

"Eva!"

Nothing.

Silence.

Only dust, broken furniture, torn curtains, and empty rooms.

The apartment looked abandoned, like no one had lived there for a long time.

No signs of struggle.

No bodies.

No blood.

No zombies.

Nothing.

Ethan stood in the middle of the living room, breathing hard, his chest tight, his eyes scanning every corner, every shadow, every doorway.

"They’re not here..." he whispered.

Fear hit him first.

Then confusion.

Then a strange, painful sense of relief.

At least they weren’t dead here.

At least they weren’t turned here.

He rushed to Anna’s family apartment next, his heart still racing, his voice shaking as he called out again.

"Mrs. Voss!"

"Mrs. Voss, are you here!"

Again, no response.

Again, emptiness.

Again, silence.

Again, no bodies.

No signs of life.

No signs of death.

Just abandonment.

When he stepped back outside, his face looked tired, his eyes heavy, his expression broken between fear and relief.

"They’re not here," he said quietly. "None of them."

Helen looked at him carefully. "That means they might still be alive."

Ethan nodded slowly. "Or they ran. Or they were evacuated. Or they’re hiding somewhere else."

At least they weren’t dead here.

That was enough for now.

They decided to camp in his family apartment for the night, securing doors, blocking entrances, setting small defenses, and creating a temporary safe zone, because everyone was exhausted, wounded, mentally broken, and emotionally drained.

Eva sat on the floor against the wall, her breathing shallow, her face pale, her eyes starting to change, the whites slowly turning darker, the red spreading around her mouth, her body trembling as the infection worked inside her.

Officer Stokes saw it and immediately raised his voice again.

"She’s turning," he said sharply. "Ethan, it’s happening."

"I said no," Ethan replied.

"You’re putting everyone in danger," Stokes snapped.

"I don’t care," Ethan shouted back. "She’s not dying like this."

"It’s already happening," Stokes yelled. "You’re being selfish."

Eva tried to speak, but her voice was weak.

"Ethan..." she whispered.

He knelt beside her immediately. "Don’t talk. Don’t give up. I’m here."

Helen looked at him with pain in her eyes.

"Ethan," she said softly, "just do it... before it becomes worse."

"No," he said again. "Never."

Stokes stepped forward.

"This ends now," he said.

He moved to grab Eva.

Ethan reacted instantly.

They clashed.

The fight was brutal and fast, fists flying, bodies crashing into walls, both men driven by rage and emotion, with Stokes overpowering Ethan at first, slamming him into furniture, punching him hard, forcing him down, his strength trained and experienced.

But Ethan didn’t stop.

He fought back desperately, fear and anger fueling him, until, in a moment of panic and instinct, he shoved his fingers into Stokes’s eyes.

Stokes screamed in pain and fell back, clutching his face, blood pouring from his eyes as he collapsed to the ground.

The room went silent.

The other two Special Force officers froze in shock.

"This is done," one of them said. "We’re leaving."

They didn’t care that Ethan was their leader anymore.

They only saw danger.

They only saw betrayal.

They only saw someone who would choose friends over protocol.

One officer helped Stokes up, supporting him as he stumbled, blind and bleeding, while the other kept his weapon raised, watching Ethan with cold eyes.

"We’re done," he said. "You chose your side."

They left.

All three of them.

The door closed behind them.

Silence filled the apartment again.

Only breathing.

Only fear.

Only pain.

Now it was just Ethan, Eva, and Helen.

Helen looked at Ethan, anger and fear mixed in her eyes.

"If they get back," she said, "they will report you, and they will come for you, and they will come for your friends."

Ethan smiled faintly.

"That’s if they get there alive," he said calmly.

Helen frowned. "What do you mean."

"We left the vans far away," Ethan replied. "There’s no way they get back to Refuge Six before us."

Helen stared at him. "How do you plan on getting back before them without a van."

Ethan’s eyes flickered with understanding.

The Store.

The system.

The power he never talked about.

He looked at her and said calmly, "Worry not."

Then his attention returned to Eva, who was shaking, weak, dying, her eyes slowly changing, her body losing strength.

He knelt beside her, holding her hand tightly, fear and pain burning in his chest, his mind racing, his heart breaking, his soul refusing to accept what reality was trying to take from him.

He wasn’t ready to lose her.

Not like this.

Not now.

Not ever.

And even if the world said she had to die, Ethan had already decided that the world was wrong.

.

.

.

[A/N: So sorry for the Chapter repeat.]