If you've ever wondered what the end of the world smells like, let me save you the trouble: it's a blend of burnt tires, expired beef jerky, and the wet dog breath of something that probably wants to eat you.
I'd barely stepped out of the bunker before I regretted it. The place we were heading into—Sector 17—used to be a city. A thriving, neon-lit, tower-stuffed marvel of human innovation.
Now? It was what you'd get if a junkyard and a cemetery had a baby, and then left it to raise itself during the apocalypse.
Burned cars sat like melted beetles along cracked highways. Buildings leaned at awkward angles like they were drunk. The sky was a smear of grayish soup, with clouds that looked like they were one bad mood away from a thunder tantrum.
And still, that wasn't the worst part.
The worst part? It was quiet. Too quiet. No birds, no Hollowed screeches. No wind even. Just us—and the creeping sensation that something was watching from the ruins.
I tightened the straps on my pack, squinting into the ruins. Adrian was at my side, grumbling to himself as usual. Royce led up front, stoic and grizzled as ever, his one eye sweeping every rooftop like a hawk ready to shoot something.
Behind us, the other survivors followed in a tight formation. Weapons up. Eyes alert. I was glad they were quiet. Even the kids. I didn't have the emotional bandwidth to play hero and babysitter.
"Used to be a city," Royce muttered, his voice gravelly. "One of the last quarantine zones. Then the virus got inside. You can guess the rest."
"Mass panic? Terrible Wi-Fi? Total death zone?" I offered.
He glanced at me. "All of the above."
We moved through what used to be a four-lane highway. Now it was a cracked maze of overturned buses and scorched-out tanks. There were signs of old barricades, like someone had tried to make a last stand here. Spoiler: it didn't work.
"You feel that?" Adrian asked quietly.
"Yeah," I said. "Like the city's holding its breath."
More like waiting to swallow us whole.
We hit the remains of an overpass around midday. A road sign hung at a crooked angle from rusted posts, still barely legible.
"Welcome to Sector 17 – Central Quarantine Zone."
Royce frowned. "This place had a supply cache. Maybe some answers."
"Or a few nice landmines and a Hollowed welcome party," Adrian muttered.
We crept down into the ruins. I tried not to think too hard about the fact that I was probably the reason anything out here might be waiting for us.
Because lately, everything that wanted me dead had one thing in common:
They all knew my name.
The train station emerged like a forgotten memory,half of it collapsed, the other half looking like it was auditioning for a horror movie. Steel beams jutted out like broken ribs. The platform was smeared in something dark and very non-paint-like.
And then we saw the bodies.
Human.
Recent.
Adrian crouched beside one, checking for signs of infection. He didn't find any.
Royce's mouth flattened into a grim line. "Not Hollowed."
"No," I said. "Something else."
I scanned the area. That's when I saw it. The symbol.
Painted in red across the back wall, smeared like it had been scratched into the concrete with blood and rage: a jagged circle, broken in half.
My stomach dropped.
Royce saw it too. "Scourge."
I didn't need to ask. I remembered stories,whispers around fires, warnings from survivors.
The Scourge weren't just raiders. They were apocalypse cultists. Hollowed-worshipping lunatics who believed the virus was some kind of divine reckoning.
You know. Real fun at parties.
Adrian stepped back from the body, rubbing his arms like he'd just walked through a freezer. "Great. So now we've got insane monster groupies to deal with."
"They follow the strong," Royce said. "The Apex. The evolved Hollowed. Some even offer sacrifices."
"Lovely," I muttered. "So if they're here"
"They're looking for something," Royce said, finishing my thought. "Or someone."
My stomach twisted again. Guess who that someone probably was?
Adrian gave me a sideways look. "You've really got a fan club, huh?"
"Apparently I'm very marketable," I deadpanned.
We scouted further into the station. The place was a tomb—rows of busted benches, shattered monitors, scattered bones. The Scourge had been here recently, but they'd moved on.
Or were watching us.
Royce crouched near a wall. "Tracks here. A group left this morning. Heading northeast."
"Think they'll be back?" Adrian asked.
"No," I said. "They'll be waiting."
Royce stood, brushing dust from his knees. "They're probably guarding something."
"Or someone," Adrian added.
We kept moving, past the station and into the old commercial district. Buildings here leaned over the streets like eavesdropping giants. The silence pressed in tighter.
I didn't trust it.
I didn't trust anything.
Around late afternoon, we found the first sign of a fight empty bullet casings, burn marks, footprints smeared in blood.
Then came the sound.
A whisper.
Not a real one. Not a voice. More like... a vibration in my head. Like my brain getting a push in a direction I didn't understand.
I froze.
Adrian noticed. "You okay?"
"Yeah," I lied. "Just a headache."
We turned the corner and walked straight into an ambush.
The flash of movement was so fast, it was a miracle any of us were still breathing.
Arrows rained from above. One clipped Royce's shoulder. Another embedded itself in the wall beside me.
"Scourge!" someone yelled.
Figures leapt from rooftops, clothed in rags and armor made from Hollowed bones. Their faces were smeared in ash and red paint, their eyes wild.
Royce fired first.
Adrian followed.
I moved on instinct dodging, weaving, charging.
One of them lunged at me with a blade shaped like a Hollowed claw.
I blocked with my forearm my enhanced bones taking the brunt,and punched him square in the jaw. He flew backward, smashing into a wall.
Another came from behind.
I ducked, spun, and slammed him into the pavement.
And then the leader stepped forward.
He was tall, gaunt, with eyes that glowed faintly gold.
That stopped me cold.
His voice rasped like wind over gravel. "You are the chosen."
"Not in the mood for cult speeches," I growled.
"You stand at the brink," he hissed. "The Apex awaits."
Then he threw something.
A vial.
It exploded mid-air, releasing a shimmering red mist.
I choked. My vision swam. My limbs felt like jelly.
The Scourge scattered, vanishing into the ruins.
Adrian reached me, coughing. "What the hell was that?"
I was shaking, barely standing. "Something to mess with my head."
The whispers were louder now.
Calling me.
Dragging me.
Royce pulled a knife and cut a small sample of the red dust. "They dosed you with something. Not a virus. Something... else."
I didn't need a test to tell me that.
Something inside me had shifted.
Something was waking up.
And it wasn't human.
We camped in a ruined store that night—doors barricaded, weapons loaded, nerves fried. No one slept.
I sat near the broken window, staring at the hollow skyline.
Adrian joined me eventually.
"You keep saying this isn't just about surviving," he said. "That there's something pulling you forward. What is it?"
I was quiet for a long time. Then I said, "The Apex. The ones like me. They want something. I don't know what—but I can feel it. Like I'm... part of it."
"Do you think it's a trap?"
I looked at him.
"I think it doesn't matter. I have to know."
A low rumble echoed in the distance.
Then another.
Royce burst into the room. "They're coming."
I stood. "Hollowed?"
"No," he said grimly. "Scourge. A lot of them."
I grabbed my pack and slung it over my shoulder. "Then we move."
We climbed out the back and slipped into the ruins.
As we ran, I glanced behind us.
A flare lit up the sky—red and jagged, like a signal.
My blood turned cold.
"They're calling someone," I said.
Adrian looked at me. "Who?"
We turned the next corner—and stopped dead.
Standing at the end of the street was a figure.
Seven feet tall. Glowing veins. A face like a nightmare trying to smile.
Golden eyes.
The Apex.
It had found me.
Again.
Its smile widened.
"You are close," it said.
Then it raised a claw—and pointed behind me.
I turned.
The Scourge weren't chasing us.
They were herding us.
Toward the Apex.
Royce swore. "It's a trap."
Adrian raised his rifle.
The Apex didn't flinch. "Come to us, Elias," it said.
And then?
The ground exploded beneath our feet.