Chapter 131: 131

The murmuring in the room had taken on a restless, nervous rhythm—people talking in hushed voices, casting glances at Winter, Zara, and the soldiers guarding them. The momentary relief of Winter stabilizing had passed, leaving behind the suffocating feel of everyone’s suspicions of them.

Winter let out a slow exhale beside her, shifting slightly, his movements sluggish. He was still too pale, but his eyes were clearer than before. She squeezed his hand, grounding herself. He’s here. He’s fine.

A soldier stepped forward, boots scuffing against the concrete floor. "How is he?" His voice was rough, exhausted. The insignia on his shoulder marked him as Lieutenant Harlow—one of the higher-ups still standing.

"Stable," Zara answered tightly. She didn’t like how he was looking at Winter—like he was assessing a threat, not a man.

Harlow didn’t seem convinced. "He was bitten."

"It wasn’t the mist," she snapped, sharper than she intended. "It wasn’t the same."

Somewhere to the left, a whisper. "We don’t know that for sure."

"That’s not how it works," Zara shot back, feeling her pulse quicken.

"Yeah? And you’re an expert now?" the man sneered.

"Yes, I happen to actually be a scientist," Zara clenched her jaw. "I’ve seen what happens. We all have. The mist turns people, not the bites. We know that."

"Maybe we don’t know shit," another person muttered, their arms crossed tight over their chest. "Everything we thought we knew keeps changing. First, they told us the cities would hold. Then they told us these bases would. Now look where we are."

Numerous murmurs rose in agreement. Zara looked at the soldier, was he going to allow them to keep talking like this? If they suddenly decide to attack, the base would

She ignored him. "We’re all tired. We’re all scared. But turning on each other won’t help. If we were exposed to something, we’d know by now."

"You sure about that?" a scarred man challenged, stepping forward.

Zara opened her mouth, but another voice cut in.

The doctor raised his hand in a placating manner.

"Look, whatever’s in his system, it’s not turning him into one of them." His tone was firm, though it didn’t erase the doubt in people’s eyes. "It’s blood loss, exhaustion—possibly some kind of contamination, sure—but not an infection."

Someone muttered, "I say we escort them out to be safe, we’ve got vulnerable people here."

Zara’s shoulders tensed. The room had gone quiet again, civilians and soldiers alike watching this exchange.

Winter cleared his throat, pushing himself up slightly. "I’m not a fucking zombie," he said hoarsely. "If I was, you’d know."

"Enough," the soldier who had checked on Winter, Harlow, snapped, his voice rough with fatigue. "We’re not having this argument right now."

The older man glared but backed down. The murmurs continued, low and distrustful, but no one openly challenged the soldier.

For now.

Harlow exhaled through his nose, then nodded when he noticed their compliance. "Right now, we can’t afford paranoia. But if anything changes—"

"It won’t." Zara’s voice left no room for argument.

The lieutenant studied her for a moment longer, then relented, stepping back toward the cluster of soldiers gathered near the door.

Zara exhaled, looking down at Leo, who was clutching her sleeve tightly. His little face was scrunched with worry, his eyes darting between Winter and the soldiers.

"It’s okay," she whispered to him, smoothing his dark curls. She was so tired of saying that all the time.

We’re always fighting, she thought bitterly. If not the monsters outside, then the people inside.

A group of soldiers stood a few feet away, deep in discussion. Zara caught snippets of their conversation, their words cutting through the anxious quiet.

"—How long do you think this place will hold?"

"Depends. The perimeter’s still intact, but if command doesn’t get their shit together soon..."

"Still no word?"

"Radio’s dead."

"And the mist?"

A pause.

"Thinning. But not gone."

Someone let out a sharp breath. "We can’t stay locked in here forever."

Some of the civilians huddled together, also whispering among themselves. Zara glared at them, noticing the way they kept glancing their way.

Then, finally, one of them stood, an older man with greying hair and a deep frown. "Enough," he said, his voice gruff with frustration. "We deserve to know what’s really going on."

The soldiers turned toward him.

"We’ve been sitting here, waiting for answers, waiting for a solution that might never come," the man continued. "You’re supposed to be protecting us, but from what? What the hell is happening out there?"

A soldier near the front, younger than the rest, ran a hand through his sweat-damp hair and let out a bitter laugh. "You think we know?" His voice carried the weight of exhaustion. "Command’s gone dark. No orders. No reinforcements. No evacuation plan. We’re just as screwed as you are."

A ripple of panic spread through the civilians.

"No orders?" A woman clutched at the man beside her. "You mean we’re just... stuck here?"

Another soldier, this one older and calmer, stepped forward, raising his hands. "Listen," he said, his voice more measured. "We were brought here to keep you safe. There are other safe rooms and other groups. Last we heard, our teams were clearing out the remaining creatures and the mist. Once that’s done, we’ll be able to move again."

A scoff came from the back of the room. "And what happens when the food runs out?"

"We have supplies for a few weeks," the soldier replied evenly. "And it won’t take that long."

"That’s assuming things go as planned," someone muttered. "We should leave. Get out before it’s too late."

Zara’s brows furrowed. It was the same man. Was he purposefully trying to stir up trouble?

This wasn’t just fear talking anymore. It was desperation. And desperation led to dangerous choices.

Winter, still weak but listening closely, shifted beside her. His fingers brushed her arm, a silent request for attention. She turned to him, pressing her palm against his chest to keep him from sitting up.

"Just listen," she murmured.

He sighed but didn’t argue.

The soldiers and group of suspicious civilians continued to trade back and forth.

"Running is suicide," one of the soldiers snapped. "The last thing we need is a bunch of unarmed civilians getting picked off because they got impatient."

"We don’t even know what’s out there!" a man shot back. "You keep telling us to wait, but what if waiting kills us?"

A woman clutched her child closer. "We can’t stay trapped like animals," she whispered, eyes darting toward Zara, as if she expected her to have a solution.

Zara inhaled slowly, pressing her fingers against her temples. "And running out there unprepared is going to do what, exactly?"

She let her words settle before adding, "If there was a way out, don’t you think the soldiers would’ve taken it already?"

The scarred man scoffed. "Easy for you to say. You’re sitting here with the sick guy and the damn kid while the rest of us are trying to figure out how not to die."

Something ugly twisted in Zara’s chest. She was exhausted. Her patience was gone. "You’re acting like I’m not in the same situation as you," she said. "Like I don’t want to get out of this alive just as much as you do." She tilted her chin. "I don’t know what you’re trying to do here, instigating the people against the soldiers but if you really think I’m the one slowing you down, you’re welcome to leave without dragging anyone with you."

The man’s jaw clenched and he took a step forward.

The soldier’s eyes narrowed at her words and they turned to him.

Winter, ever the stubborn one, attempted to sit up again. His face twisted in pain, but he didn’t stop. Zara had to press a firm hand to his shoulder to keep him from pushing himself too far.

"Not now," she murmured.

His lips parted like he was about to argue, but then another wave of dizziness hit him, and he sagged back with a quiet curse. "I hate this."

"I know, but we can’t give them any ammo. Just stay still."

He exhaled sharply through his nose but said nothing.

The murmuring grew louder. The fear was contagious, spreading through the room like wildfire.

Leo shifted closer, his tiny fingers tugging at Zara’s sleeve. His voice was small when he whispered, "Are they gonna make us leave?"

"No," Zara said immediately, keeping her voice steady for his sake. "We’re all staying here together."

Then—

BOOM.

A violent bang shook the walls.

Leo yelped, clinging to Zara’s arm.

Winter stiffened. "What the hell was that?"

Another bang.

The building groaned, deep and unnatural, as if something massive was pressing against it.

A third bang, louder this time, sent dust trickling from the ceiling.

"Everyone quiet!" one of the soldiers barked, and the room fell into a tense, uneasy silence.

Zara could hear it now. A sound beneath the bangs—something low, rumbling.

A growl.

A deep, rattling growl.

It was outside.

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