Leo woke up to soft gray morning light leaking through the gaps in the coats and cardboard they had taped over the lower windows. The steel bars outside turned the light into thin stripes across the dusty floor. For a second he just lay there on the old sleeping bag, listening. The pawn shop was quiet. No footsteps. No soft humming. No one moving around in the front.
He sat up. The magic sweatshirt was still on him, warm and a little too big. The axe leaned against the wall where he had left it. Melody’s stuff was still there too. Her bag. The extra water bottles. The half-eaten protein bar she had said he could finish if he got hungry in the night.
But she wasn’t.
“Melody?” His voice came out smaller than he wanted.
No answer.
He stood up carefully, sneakers quiet on the dusty floor, and walked through the store. Every aisle. Behind the counter. The little office in the back that smelled like old paper and metal. Nothing. Then he remembered bathrooms existed. He found the employee one near the rear exit. The door stuck a little when he pushed it open. Enough morning light came through a high window to show the cracked sink, the toilet that looked like it hadn’t been cleaned since before the world ended, and a roll of toilet paper sitting on the tank like it was the last one left on earth. Empty. She wasn’t in there either.
Leo stood in the doorway for a long time, staring at the empty bathroom like it might suddenly make sense.
Maybe she just had to pee and went somewhere else. Or maybe she got mad about the axe and didn’t want to say it. She had smiled when he took it. She had even helped him figure out how the sweatshirt worked. But adults smiled when they were mad sometimes. His mom used to say “it’s fine” in a voice that meant it was not fine at all.
Maybe she actually had wanted the axe.
She laughed when he grabbed it, but adults laughed when they were annoyed sometimes. Maybe Melody thought he was greedy. Maybe she finally realized he was just another kid she had to babysit.
Leo hated that thought enough that he stood up again and walked back to the front. He sat on the edge of the counter, legs dangling, staring at the door.
She had been there when he fell asleep. Now she was gone. No note. No nothing.
The minutes kept stretching.
Leo’s stomach felt tight the way it used to when he got separated from his parents in Costco. He had been maybe seven. He remembered the giant warehouse lights and the cold air and the way every adult looked the same from the back. He had walked up and down the same aisle three times, voice getting smaller every time he called for Mom. When she finally found him she had hugged him so hard it hurt and then yelled at him for wandering off. He had cried the whole way to the car even though he was trying not to.
This felt worse.
He thought about the Fourth of July two years ago. His dad had yelled at him for messing with the fireworks before it was time. Leo had gotten so mad he just left. Walked out the back gate and kept going until the music from the party was gone. He had sat under a tree for what felt like hours, waiting for someone to come looking. No one did. When he finally walked home the sun was almost down and the backyard was still full of cousins and aunts and the smell of burgers. His mom asked where he had been and he said “around.” Nobody had even noticed he was gone.
That had felt bad too. But not like this.
His sister’s face tried to push into his head and he shoved it away hard. He was not going to think about the blood or the way her hand had gone cold while he held it. He was not.
Melody was different. Melody was strong. She had magic and a sword made from the thing that killed his family, and she had looked at him like he was still a person even after everything. Leo had watched the snake throw her through cars, cut her open, and knock her down hard enough that for a few seconds he thought she was dead.
But she got back up.
That was the important part.
Superheroes got hurt all the time. Spider-Man got beaten half to death basically every movie. Batman was constantly bleeding from somewhere. Even in that new superman movie, he was beaten up from the very beginning. They still got back up.
Melody got back up too.
So she was fine.
Obviously.
She had probably found somebody else who needed help. Or some monster had shown up and she was dealing with it. Maybe she had gone out for something stupid and hadn’t realized how long she’d been gone.
There was no way she was dead.
Leo refused to even let the thought finish.
The longer he sat there the more the quiet pressed in on him. Outside he could hear the distant crackle of something still burning and the occasional weird animal sound that the new world made. Inside it was just him and the dust and the soft warmth of the sweatshirt against his skin.
He looked at the axe. Then at the rear door.
He wasn’t really leaving.
He was just checking the alley.
Maybe the end of the block.
If he didn’t see anything, he would come straight back and wait.
That wasn’t disobeying anything. Melody hadn’t even technically told him to stay.
Leo stood in front of the rear door for a long time before he touched it. The lock had been ripped apart. Part of the handle hung crooked from the frame, metal twisted like someone had torn through it in a hurry. “Dang, how deep was I sleeping?” Leo muttered.
Melody had done that. She hadn’t been taken out of the store. She had gone through here herself, and judging by the door, she had gone fast.
He tightened both hands around the axe and stepped out into the alley.
Just the alley, he told himself. Maybe the end of the block. If he didn’t see anything he would come straight back and wait.
The morning air was cooler than he expected and smelled like smoke and wet concrete. He walked the full length of the alley, checking behind dumpsters and the broken loading dock of the building next door. Empty. He peered through the steel bars of the pawn shop’s windows just to make sure she hadn’t somehow ended up back inside. Still empty.
The bodega on the corner had its front windows already smashed. It was right there. He climbed through carefully, sneakers crunching on glass, and kept the axe low. Inside it was dark and smelled like spoiled milk and dust. He checked behind the counter, the little storage room, the bathroom that was even worse than the pawn shop’s. No Melody. No blood either, which he told himself was good.
When he came back out he could see the laundromat’s open door from the sidewalk. Just one more. He went in. Rows of silent machines sat under a thin layer of ash that had blown in through a broken side window. He walked every aisle, looked inside the open dryers, even checked the tiny office in the back. Nothing. His heart was beating harder now. He could feel it in his throat.
Then the apartments above the old hardware store were right there too. What if she had gone upstairs to help somebody?
By the time Leo realized he was nowhere near “just checking the alley” anymore, he was already halfway down the block.
The street-level door was locked, so he went around to the fire escape. The metal rattled under his weight and he froze, waiting to see if anything noticed. Nothing did. He forced a second-floor window open with the axe handle and slipped inside. Empty rooms. Mattresses dragged into corners. A child’s drawing still stuck to one refrigerator with a magnet. He moved room by room, quiet as he could. Halfway through the second apartment he heard a soft sound from the floor above and almost called her name. The word was right behind his teeth. He froze instead, axe raised, listening so hard his ears rang. It was only a dripping pipe. Or maybe a loose curtain moving in the draft. He stayed still for a long time before he trusted his legs enough to keep going.
He wanted to yell her name. He almost did twice. But then his brain supplied the picture of something hearing him from inside one of the buildings, and he kept his mouth shut.
An abandoned car lot. He looked under the remaining cars and inside the ones with open doors. A boarded-up church. He found a side door that had already been forced by someone else and searched the sanctuary, the basement, the little kitchen. Every empty room made the next one feel more important, like if he just checked one more place she would be there, sitting on a counter eating a protein bar and looking surprised that he had come looking for her.
She would probably scold him for leaving the pawn shop.
He would take the scolding. He would take anything as long as she was there to give it.
By the time he reached the end of the block his breath was coming shorter and his eyes kept stinging. He wiped them roughly with the sleeve of the sweatshirt and turned around to start the other side of the street. He was not done. He was not going back yet.
He had known Melody for less than two days, which was ridiculous. You weren’t supposed to know somebody after two days.
But Leo knew this.
She wouldn’t have just left him.
Not without saying something.
Not after everything.
So she was somewhere nearby.
She had to be.