The clouds were slowly beginning to disperse across the night sky. Although the moon remained hidden behind thick banks of gray fog, a few silvery rays managed to filter through the gaps, casting a faint light over the city's empty streets. The abandoned buildings cast long, distorted shadows, while the wind swept dust and forgotten scraps of paper through the silent alleys.
Near the spot where the vans had been parked hours earlier, two figures moved cautiously forward. Both were young, barely over twenty. The first was tall and thin, with messy brown hair and a dark jacket several sizes too big. He held a gun in his hands and kept glancing from side to side, as if expecting something to emerge from the darkness at any moment. The second was somewhat shorter, with an athletic build, closely cropped black hair, and an old scar running across one of his eyebrows. He gripped a pistol with both hands as he inspected every corner, every broken window, and every suspicious shadow.
Their footsteps echoed softly on the cracked pavement.
—I'm telling you, they were here —muttered the one with the scar as he scanned the area.
—Well, they're not here anymore —replied the other, clearly irritated.
They continued down the alley. They checked the corners, circled overturned dumpsters, and looked behind nearby buildings.
But they found nothing.
The vans had vanished.
—Damn it… —growled the guy in the jacket, kicking a rusty can that rolled across the floor —. The boss is going to take it out on us.
—Now I get why we didn't find the keys in those guys' pocket.
—What?
—Someone must have taken them earlier.
The young man in the jacket let out a low curse.
—Great. Now we'll be going back empty-handed.
His partner opened his mouth to reply, but the comment never came.
The sudden silence felt strange.
Too strange.
The young man in the jacket frowned and turned his head slightly.
—Did you say something?
He got no answer.
He turned completely around and froze.
His partner was lying on the floor.
Unconscious.
—What the hell…?
His heart skipped a beat. Instinctively, he tried to raise his gun.
Too late.
A hand reached out from behind and grabbed his arm with surprising strength. Before he could react, the gun vanished from his hands. The next moment, he felt the cold metal press against his neck.
His whole body tensed.
A woman's voice spoke from behind him.
It was Arika.
—If you want to stay alive —she said with utter coldness—, you'll tell me where the boys your friend was talking about are.
A chill ran down the young man's spine.
—I… I…
—And you'll take me to them.
The boy swallowed hard. Sweat began to bead on his forehead despite the cold of the night. He tried to stay calm, but fear was squeezing his chest.
Slowly, he slid a hand toward the knife hidden in his pants.
Maybe he could still catch her off guard.
Maybe he still had a chance.
The blade had barely emerged a few centimeters when Arika moved.
It was so fast that he didn't even have time to understand what had happened.
The knife vanished from his hand.
A moment later, he found himself pinned against the wall.
He felt a sudden burning sensation cross his cheek.
—Agh!
Blood began to trickle down his face.
At the same time, the very knife he had tried to use was pressed against his throat.
His legs began to tremble.
Arika's eyes remained unmoving, cold and empty, like those of someone who no longer felt compassion for anyone.
—I'm not playing around.
The threat in her voice was far more terrifying than the knife.
The boy lost all will to resist.
—All right! All right! I'll do whatever you want!
The blade continued to press against his neck for a few seconds that felt like an eternity.
—Please… don't kill me…
Arika watched him in silence. She seemed to be analyzing every gesture, every breath, and every movement, searching for a lie.
Finally, she withdrew the knife from his throat and let him go.
The young man fell to his knees on the ground. For a few seconds, he remained motionless, gasping for the breath he'd been holding. His heart was pounding against his chest, and his legs were still trembling.
—Don't try to run.
Arika stood before him. She leaned in slightly, just enough for him to clearly see the absolute coldness in her eyes.
—If you do, I'll turn you into prey for the infected.
The boy nodded repeatedly.
—I-I won't…
—Good.
Arika's reply was curt and devoid of emotion.
For a few seconds, neither of them spoke. The young man was still trying to catch his breath as fear squeezed his chest. Then his gaze shifted to his companion, who remained unconscious on the pavement.
—And him?
Arika followed the direction of his gaze.
The body lay motionless in the dim moonlight. If they left him there, he would soon become easy prey for any infected creatures lurking in the area.
The young woman was silent for a few moments.
—We'll take him to a safe place.
The boy blinked, surprised.
He'd expected many answers from her, but that wasn't one of them.
Without arguing, he lifted his companion and hoisted him onto his shoulders. Then he followed Arika through the city's empty streets.
For the next few minutes, they made their way past abandoned buildings and rusted vehicles. The silence was so deep that the sound of their footsteps seemed to echo throughout the street. All around them, the city resembled a gigantic corpse abandoned to the darkness.
Finally, they found a half-ruined house. Part of the roof had collapsed and several windows were shattered, but the main walls were still standing and the door could still be closed.
They went inside.
The boy carefully laid the unconscious man down in a relatively sheltered corner.
Arika scanned the place with a quick glance. Her eyes examined every corner, every entrance, and every possible weak spot. Then she dragged several pieces of old furniture to the entrance and erected a makeshift barricade.
It wasn't a perfect defense.
Far from it.
But it would serve to keep the wandering infected at bay and buy them some time in case of trouble.
—For now, he'll be safe.
The young man looked at her with obvious confusion.
That wasn't the attitude he expected from someone who, just a few minutes earlier, had threatened to slit his throat.
Arika stood up.
—If he's smart, he'll still be alive when he wakes up."
It didn't sound like a sign of concern. It sounded more like a simple observation.
A fact.
Something that depended solely on the decisions that boy would make when he opened his eyes.
Without adding anything else, Arika turned on her heel and left the house.
Jake looked one last time at his unconscious companion. He still didn't understand that girl. One moment she seemed capable of killing him without hesitation, and the next she cared enough to ensure the safety of someone she didn't even know.
That contradiction unsettled him more than he wanted to admit.
Finally, he left the house and hurried to catch up with her.
Once outside, Arika stopped in the middle of the street.
Moonlight was beginning to filter through the clouds, partially illuminating her silhouette.
Jake slammed on the brakes.
She turned her head and watched him in silence.
Several seconds passed, and the young man began to feel uncomfortable.
Until she finally spoke.
—Name.
The young man blinked.
—What?
—Your name.
It took him a moment to react.
—Jake.
Arika nodded slowly.
—All right, Jake.
The hardness returned immediately to her eyes.
—Now show me the way.
Jake swallowed hard; for a moment, he thought about running.
He thought about screaming.
He thought about anything that might get him away from that girl.
But something in the way she was watching him told him it would be a mistake.
A brief and extremely painful one.
So he simply nodded.
—This way…
He began walking through the shadows.
Arika followed behind him, keeping a safe distance and not letting her guard down for even a second.
As the two of them disappeared into the silent streets of the city, the boys' situation was very different.
Koen slowly opened his eyes. He had waited for the right moment, making sure there were no footsteps nearby or signs of movement on the other side.
The air was thick, heavy with the smell of damp wood and old dust. They were in a small room, barely lit by a sliver of light coming through a crack in the wooden door. The light barely managed to cast faint outlines in the dimness.
The floor was covered with dirty cardboard boxes that crunched with every slight movement, as if the place itself were punishing any attempt to break the silence.
Koen sat up carefully, bracing himself against the floor so as not to make a sound. He listened for a few seconds, alert for any sign from outside.
Only then did he crawl over to Ethan, who remained unconscious.
—Hey… —he whispered, giving him a few light taps on the cheek—. Come on, wake up…
Ethan didn't respond.
Koen clenched his teeth and turned to the other side. Elion was lying near Ethan, his face pale and his expression clearly disoriented. His eyes opened slowly, as if the world hadn't quite come into focus yet.
—Where…? —he murmure—. What happened…?
Koen moved closer immediately and motioned for him to lower his voice.
—Shh… I'll explain everything, but quietly. We're trapped.
It took Elion a few seconds to process it, then he nodded slowly.
Koen explained in a low voice everything he could remember, pausing occasionally to listen for footsteps outside. The blow, the dart, the men, Reize… his expression hardened the moment he mentioned her name, but he didn't stop.
A few tense minutes passed until Ethan finally let out a faint groan.
Koen noticed it immediately and leaned toward him.
—Well… Sleeping Beauty has finally woken up —he whispered with a half-smile—. I thought you were going to sleep through the whole escape.
Ethan opened his eyes suddenly, still confused.
The first thing he did was try to sit up, but the memory hit him before he could speak.
—Reize… —his voice came out hoarse—. Where's Reize?
Koen's smile faded a little.
—Don't worry… if everything went as it should, she's already safe.
Ethan stared at him, unconvinced.
—"Should be" isn't an answer.
Koen sighed, lowering his voice even further.
—I know… but right now the important thing is that you don't make a sound, unless you want them to tie us up and drag us out.
Ethan clenched his fists, but nodded slowly, resigned.
Elion, now more awake, rubbed his forehead.
—How long were we in here?
—Not long enough to stay any longer —Koen replied—. We have to get out of here.
Ethan shook his head.
—Getting out is going to be impossible without weapons. And we don't even know how many of them there are.
Koen looked at him for a few seconds before responding calmly.
—We do know something. The path we came in on is full of them… but I saw an emergency exit not too far away when they were dragging me. It'll be easier to slip over there.
Elion frowned.
—Fine… but how do we get out of this room without the keys?
Silence fell again for a few seconds.
Koen looked down and, without saying a word, began searching the floor. He carefully moved one of the cardboard boxes aside and pulled out something hidden beneath it.
A small dart.
Elion looked at it in surprise.
—What they used to knock them out —Koen replied, twirling it between his fingers before putting it away—. And what might give us a chance.
Ethan looked at him with obvious suspicion.
—You plan to use it?
—Of course —Koen said, putting it away —. They should know what it feels like firsthand.
The cold way he said it made Ethan frown.
—You give me the creeps when you talk like that —Ethan muttered.
Elion leaned slightly toward the door, listening to the outside.
—Then we'll need a distraction.
Koen nodded.
—Exactly. We have to get their attention and lure them closer.
Silence fell again, heavier this time.
The three looked at each other.
None of them spoke right away.
Finally, Elion and Ethan turned their gaze to Koen.
—Koen could pretend to be a patient —Ethan said, shrugging—. They didn't even realize he was conscious before, so he can act like he's had a heart attack.
—That was… —Koen tried to protest.
—It makes sense —Elion interrupted him—. And you, Ethan, would be the one to scream to get their attention and call for help.
—Wait, I don't… —Ethan began, but no one was listening to him anymore.
—No need to say more —Elion concluded, turning toward the exit—. Everyone has their role.
Footsteps began to sound in the distance. Slow. Heavy.
—It's time… for the show to begin.