CHAPTER 2(v)
Grey's POV – Present
They're on us before we see them.
Immediately we tried taking a breather.
Not one. Not five. Dozens.
The groaning swarm floods from the tunnel bends like a black wave spilling forward.
No time to count. No time to think.
We fight.
Scarlett is first—silent, precise. Her knife sinks into a throat, another slash across the face of one too close. She doesn't waste motion. Doesn't blink.
Luke fights rougher. Wrenching a rusted pipe from the wall, he swings with rhythm—shoulder, head, knee. Grit clenched between his teeth. He's learning.
Blair screams, not in fear—rage. Her crowbar meets skull and splits it clean.
I don't scream. I don't speak.
I move.
Faster.Better . Adapting just like i was taught.
Bone cracks beneath my bat. I shove one into the wall. Another grabs at my coat—I break its fingers, then its jaw.
I move faster , the blood doesn't faze me or Luke as it splashes on us .
Behind us, chaos.
Someone's yelling for a sister. Someone else is already on the floor, dragged down by three of them, blood slick and fast.
A man with a golf club runs past, swinging wildly—he doesn't make it ten steps before the swarm folds him in.
"We can't stay here!" Jane shouts.
A woman with a broken bottle tries to run with us—she slips. We don't look back.
Bodies hit the ground. Human. Infected. Some too mangled to tell which.
Then—
"Here!" Luke points to a metal stairwell, rusted but standing.
We run.
One of the infected grabs Jonah's hoodie—Scarlett stabs it without breaking stride.
I yank the maintenance door open. Blair shoves Jonah through. Jane dives in next.
Mitch is behind everyone, bleeding from earlier. Slower.
Too slow.
He turns to shut the gate—something hits him from the side. A blur. A snarl.
He shouts—short, sharp—then disappears beneath the weight of it.
Blair turns. "Mitch!"
She lunges forward, but I grab her arm. She fights it. Screams something broken.
He's already gone.
The silent woman—her leg catches on the hinge. She tries to pull it free.
Too slow.
A mouth finds her calf.
Then more.
She doesn't scream. But her hand grips the edge so hard her fingernails tear.
One last shove from Blair—too late.
We slam the door.
Blood sprays through the crack before it shuts completely.
Silence follows like fog.
Heavy. Stained.
We breathe like we're drowning.
Then the stairwell moans.
Metal, not alive. Still intact.
Up.
No one talks.
**
The hatch opens into dull gray light.
We spill out into what used to be a front office lobby.
Wide. Open. Quiet.
A cracked reception desk. Scattered chairs. Plants long dead.
Glass walls—most broken.
A sign hanging sideways: "Welcome to Stratwell Consolidated."
People already here.
Some stand. Some back away.
Eyes track us.
Their clothes are torn, but clean. Organized enough to be wary.
A man steps forward, hand near a crowbar looped through his belt. "More?" he mutters.
Blair pulls Jonah behind her, eyes narrowing.
Scarlett stares the man down. "We're not here to take anything."
Luke glances at me. I nod, slow. One movement. Enough.
"We lost some down there," Jane whispers.
A woman in the corner laughs bitterly. "Everyone loses someone. Every ten minutes."
A group of kids huddle near the back, wide-eyed.
Others whisper to each other, scanning us like they're waiting for someone to start screaming.
No one does.
Not yet.
Blair sits at a corner folded against herself,no one's talking.
I can feel her grief.
**
2 Years Ago <<
Luke's Memory
Eva sat cross-legged on the kitchen counter, arms wrapped around a half-empty cereal box.
She was talking to no one in particular. That was normal.
"They said the brain dies twice," she said. "First when the heart stops. Then again when memory fades."
I was seventeen. She was sixteen, and already too smart for her own good.
She poured cereal onto the counter. Not into a bowl.
I leaned against the fridge. "That why you don't sleep?"
She shrugged. "I'm just... waiting to forget."
There was a silence.
Then she looked at me.
"If I forget who I am... will you remind me?"
I remember thinking she was joking.
I remember nodding anyway.
I didn't know how important that would become.
Present <<
LUKE'S POV>>>
The floor creaks.
I shift slightly. Watch every corner. Every door.
Grey observant and brooding as always. Nothing reflecting in his eyes...just green and cold like he usually is
Jane walks up to me shaking slightly and hugs me tight . She seems closer to me..closer than anyone else though we met around 2 days ago
Oh we're class mates
I get out of my head and look away from our unusual group.
Some of these people could turn.
Some are already broken.
I can feel it in the room.
Tension held tight like a wire.
Scarlett leans close. "This won't hold long."
She's right.
But for now—we're breathing.
That's more than most get.
And if we move again…
We'll lose more.
The question is: who?