Good Night: An Apocalypse Story

Stephanie crouched beside her bike, fingers stained with grease as she adjusted the worn chain. The Christini Military 450—matte black, rugged, and one of the few machines still surviving the apocalypse—had been her only companion for miles. Her father had always said the Christini was built to outlast anything, even a world that had crumbled into chaos, and so far, it hadn't let her down.

She wiped her brow, streaking more grease across her skin, but didn’t care. Sweat dripped down her neck, mingling with the dust and grime of the endless road behind her. The sun was sinking, casting long shadows across the cracked pavement that once carried millions of people in a world she barely remembered. The bike’s engine had started sputtering a few miles back, and Stephanie knew better than to push her luck. The last thing she needed was to be stranded out here as the Freaks began crawling from their holes.

She glanced over her shoulder, wary of the silence. It had been quiet for too long, and in this world, silence was a warning.

Her father’s voice echoed in her mind, the only guide she had left. "Stay sharp. Always listen." He had taught her everything she knew, from fixing the bike to surviving this hostile world. But now, all she had left of him was the memory of his lessons—and the map he’d given her before he died. The map was creased and worn from years of travel, the ink faded, but it was her compass, leading her to a destination he never fully explained. A facility marked in red. Why? She had asked him that night, but he had only whispered, "You'll understand when you get there."

Stephanie’s jaw clenched as she thought about that final conversation. He had been so certain, so cryptic, even as the light had faded from his eyes. What was so important about that place? Why had her father been so secretive about it, even when he knew his time was running out?

Her hand slipped from the wrench, the cold metal biting into her fingers. She cursed under her breath, wincing at the sharp pain. She could survive this—fix the bike, find the facility, and learn what her father had been hiding. But the weight of it all, the journey, the isolation, it clung to her like a shadow.

She stood up and stretched, her muscles protesting after crouching for so long. The road ahead stretched endlessly, cracked and overgrown with wild vegetation. The world had changed so much in the last fifteen years, since the world ended when she was just a kid. Four years old. She could barely remember what it was like before. Only flashes of it remained—a world with too many people, cars, buildings. Now, it was all she knew—this life of survival, of endless days filled with uncertainty, and nights where Freaks roamed, waiting for anyone foolish enough to be caught in the dark without UV lanterns.

Stephanie mounted the bike, her heart thudding in her chest as she kicked it to life. The engine roared to life with a comforting growl, breaking the silence. She felt a fleeting sense of relief.

For a moment, her eyes lingered on the map, tucked safely in her bag. She didn’t know what awaited her at the facility, or why her father had sent her there. But she was determined to find out. For him. For her.

With a quick glance over her shoulder, Stephanie revved the engine and shot down the road, leaving the cracked pavement and the past behind her—at least for now.

Stephanie slowed her bike to a crawl as the silhouette of an abandoned cabin emerged on the side of the road, its wooden walls half-buried under creeping vines. The sun hung low, bleeding the last of its light across the horizon. She knew better than to push her luck. Nightfall brought the Freaks in droves, and even the smallest shelter could mean the difference between life and death.

She parked the bike a good distance from the cabin, cutting the engine to avoid drawing attention. The silence pressed in, thick and unnerving. Pulling her bow from its strap on the side of the bike, she grabbed her knife and moved forward with measured steps, crouching low to the ground. Every creak, every snap of a twig felt too loud, too risky in a world where even a momentary lapse in caution could be fatal.

As she neared the cabin, her eyes caught movement—a lone Freak, pale and gaunt, hunched over something on the ground. Its elongated limbs twitched as it tore into the carcass of a dead animal, the sound of flesh ripping filling the still air. Stephanie’s stomach twisted, but she focused, tightening her grip on the knife.

Years of training with her father had drilled this into her—quiet, controlled, and efficient. Freaks were fast, but vulnerable if you knew where to strike. She crept forward, her footsteps soft, barely disturbing the dirt underfoot. The creature didn’t hear her, too consumed by its meal.

In one swift movement, she lunged, plunging the blade into the soft cartilage just behind its ear. The Freak jerked once, letting out a gurgled breath before collapsing onto the animal it had been feeding on. Blood soaked the dirt, but the fight was over before it even started.

Stephanie pulled her knife free and wiped the blade on her pants, her breath steadying. One down.

She turned her attention to the cabin. The door creaked open with a groan, revealing a dark, musty interior. The place looked deserted—no signs of a nest or anything that might indicate Freaks had taken over. That was a good start. Stephanie swept the room carefully, checking for any hidden threats, but it seemed like the cabin was safe enough for the night.

Satisfied, she retrieved her bike, rolling it quietly into the shelter of the cabin. The UV lamp came next. She propped it up on a stand near the window, its faint hum offering a small sense of security as the blue light flickered to life, bathing the room in an otherworldly glow. That should keep anything out until morning.

Now came the next priority: food. Stephanie strapped her bow across her back and ventured out into the wild, the sun all but gone now, leaving a deep orange glow in the distance. Her senses sharpened as the forest thickened around her. She kept low, moving through the underbrush with the practiced ease of a predator.

It didn’t take long before she spotted the familiar bushes, brimming with wild berries. She crouched, picking what she could, testing a few to make sure they weren’t poisonous. Her father had taught her the difference when she was young—another lesson that had saved her life more times than she could count.

With a small bag of berries, Stephanie continued her search. Her eyes caught movement again, this time a flash of gray darting through the trees. Instinct took over, and she nocked an arrow, drawing back the string in one smooth motion. The rabbit paused just long enough for her to line up the shot, then—thwip!—the arrow flew true. The creature fell instantly, the arrow clean through its heart.

Stephanie allowed herself a small, satisfied smile. Dinner.

She returned to the cabin under the deepening twilight, the forest now alive with the sounds of nocturnal creatures waking. But she was fast, efficient. Soon, she had the rabbit skinned and roasting over a small fire, the scent of charred meat mixing with the sweet tang of the berries she had gathered. Her stomach growled in anticipation.

As the fire crackled, she leaned back against the rough wooden wall of the cabin, watching the UV lamp flicker faintly in the corner. Outside, the distant, haunting cries of Freaks echoed in the night. She clenched her jaw, gripping the handle of her knife reflexively, but forced herself to relax. The lamp would keep them at bay.

For tonight, at least, she was safe.

The first rays of sunlight streamed through the cracks in the cabin walls as Stephanie opened the door, squinting into the harsh light of dawn. Her breath fogged in the cool morning air. She had slept light, half-awake, as always. The constant threat of Freaks kept her instincts sharp, even in the brief moments of rest.

As she stepped out, something lunged from the side. A blur of pale skin and gnashing teeth hurtling towards her.

Stephanie dodged instinctively, her body reacting faster than her mind. The Freak missed its mark, crashing to the ground where she had just stood. Without hesitation, she pivoted and slammed her boot into the creature’s head, the force of the blow sending it sprawling onto its back. Its mouth opened in a guttural hiss, but it was cut short as Stephanie brought her foot down—hard. The crunch of bone under her boot echoed in the morning air. She stomped again, her muscles coiled with tension, adrenaline fueling her.

Another stomp.

Then another, until the Freak's head was nothing but a mess of broken bone and flesh, twitching as life left it.

Stephanie exhaled sharply, wiping the sweat from her brow. But before she could take another step, she spotted movement from the edge of the trees. Two smaller Freaks, their pale, hairless bodies writhing as they skittered towards her. Offspring, she realized. The ones that had likely been hiding nearby while their parent hunted in the night.
They came at her fast, but not fast enough.

The first one lunged, and Stephanie sidestepped, delivering a swift kick to its midsection, sending it crashing into the dirt. The second followed, leaping at her with clawed fingers reaching out, but she ducked low, avoiding its swipe with ease. She spun on her heel and kicked it square in the chest, knocking the air from its lungs as it hit the ground.

Before it could recover, Stephanie was on it, her boot crashing down on its fragile skull with deadly precision. Crack. Its body convulsed, then went still.

The first one scrambled to its feet, but it didn’t get far. She pounced, stomping down hard on its back, pinning it to the earth. One final, brutal stomp to its head, and the last of them was dead.

The morning air, once filled with the sounds of struggle, fell silent again. Stephanie stood over the bodies, breathing heavily, but already her mind was elsewhere. No time to waste.

She wiped her boots in the dirt, the viscera clinging to her soles like an unwanted reminder of the brutal necessity of survival. The Freaks were small, barely a threat compared to the larger ones she had faced before. Still, they could have been dangerous if she hadn’t reacted quickly. She cursed herself for letting her guard down, even for a second.

Glancing around, Stephanie scanned the area for any more signs of danger. The Freaks' mother had likely been hunting nearby during the night. What else was lurking in the woods? She couldn't stay to find out.

Quickly, she returned to the cabin, grabbing her gear. Her backpacks, packed with supplies, were hoisted onto the back of her bike, the weight of them a familiar comfort. She double-checked the UV lamp, securing it to the side of her bike in case she needed it again tonight. The next leg of her journey would be long and unforgiving, and she didn’t plan on stopping until she was well into Romania.

As she mounted the bike, the sun had fully risen, casting long shadows over the forest. The air felt cool and crisp against her skin. The Christini roared to life, the engine’s deep growl breaking the eerie stillness of the morning.

Cluj, Romania—that’s where the facility was. That’s where the map her father had given her pointed.

Her father had said they were originally from there, but she had no memory of it. All she knew was the life she had lived on the road, in a world turned upside down since she was a child. Now, she was riding towards a place that held the answers to everything—her past, her father’s secrets, and maybe even the truth behind the transformation that had begun inside her.

She was only at the border between Romania and Poland now, still hundreds of miles from her destination. But the road stretched ahead of her, endless and unforgiving, just as it always had been. Ground to cover, she thought. And no time to lose.

With one last glance at the cabin—her temporary shelter—Stephanie revved the engine and sped off, leaving the aftermath of the morning’s fight behind her.