Chapter 134: 134

Zara watched the landscape pass as the truck sped through the wreckage of the base. No one had been allowed to go back for personal effects or supplies. The only things they carried were the clothes on their backs, whatever weapons they had managed to grab, and the memories of the horrors they had faced.

Her mind kept circling back to their research—the weeks, no, months of work they had done studying the mist, the orb, the creatures. Was it all gone? Destroyed in the attack? Had anyone managed to save their findings, or would they have to start from scratch?

Sector 2.

Zara’s fingers tightened around the hem of her sleeve. Had the research been backed up there? If so, that was their only chance of salvaging anything. But another thought gnawed at her.

The mist that had settled in the dome above their previous base—the only thing keeping them from turning into those... things outside—had it formed over Sector 2 as well? If not, how had it remained safe?

Why had the creatures stopped attacking beyond this point? Why hadn’t they pushed further? If they had torn through the first line of defence so easily, what was keeping them at bay now?

Her stomach twisted.

There were too many questions.

Too many uncertainties.

Maybe she was imagining things. Maybe the battle had simply ended before the creatures could reach deeper inside.

But nothing about this felt right.

A small shift against her chest drew her focus downward.

Leo.

His big, tired eyes blinked up at her, his little fingers curling into her jacket. His voice was quiet, hesitant. "Where are we going now?"

Zara swallowed the knot in her throat, forcing her expression to soften. "Somewhere safer, baby."

His tiny face scrunched. "And uncle?"

"He’s getting help," she assured him. "The nice doctors are going to make him feel better."

Leo considered this, then hugged his stuffed toy closer. His brows knitted together. "Will we see him soon?"

"Yes," she said, brushing a stray lock of hair from his forehead. "Very soon."

Leo’s gaze flickered toward the back of the truck, where other survivors sat in stunned silence, then to the landscape beyond, where nothing but ruin stretched.

Zara didn’t want him to focus on that.

With gentle fingers, she brushed a bit of dust from his cheek. "Hey, Leo, look—your bunny’s ears got all floppy." She lifted the stuffed toy and wiggled its ears, making a small, playful sound.

His lips twitched slightly, his grip on the toy tightening.

Zara smiled, nuzzling the bunny against his nose until he gave a tiny, reluctant giggle. "We gotta take care of him, okay? He’s counting on you to keep him safe."

Leo nodded solemnly, hugging the bunny close. "I will."

Good.

If he was focused on that, then he wasn’t focused on the horrors outside.

The truck hit a bump, jolting everyone inside. Zara tightened her grip on Leo, pressing him closer as the convoy continued forward, deeper into whatever safety they were promised.

But as she glanced back up at the mist-covered dome ahead, she wasn’t sure if she believed in safety anymore.

Zara glanced at the others in the truck. Most were staring blankly at nothing, lost in their own thoughts.

Sam. Mike. Richard.

Were they still alive?

She hadn’t seen them among the survivors. Had they made it to another part of the base? Or had she already passed their bodies without realizing it? The thought made her stomach churn even harder.

The sun was setting by the time they neared Sector 2.

The sight of it made Zara inhale sharply.

The wall was massive—taller, thicker than the one they had just escaped from. The steel barrier stretched high into the darkening sky, reinforced with layers of concrete and what looked like electromagnetic barriers pulsing faintly along its edges.

They slowed as they approached the heavily guarded entrance. Soldiers lined the top of the wall, their weapons trained outward, watching for any threats.

This place looked like a fortress.

The camp at the bottom came into view as the trucks rumbled forward.

It was hastily thrown together—makeshift barricades formed a perimeter, scrap metal and salvaged supplies reinforcing the weak points. Inside, rows of tents stood in neat formations, the dull glow of lanterns and floodlights flickering against the night.

Yeah, it was night now. The attack seemed to have taken a day or two, who knows how long they had spent running around and hiding in there.

Soldiers moved swiftly between them, some barking orders, others rushing to unload the wounded.

Medics were everywhere. Bloodied bandages, the scent of antiseptic and burned flesh, and the low murmurs of pain and exhaustion filled the air.

The truck jolted to a stop, and before Zara could even get her bearings, soldiers were already pulling people down, directing them toward shelter.

"We are stopping here?" someone asked, voice trembling.

"We need to make sure everyone is fully accounted for, unaffected before going into Sector 2." The soldier replied, helping the person down.

Zara barely managed to step off before she caught sight of Winter. He was being carried—his head lolling against the shoulder of one of the medics as they rushed him toward a larger tent.

Zara took a step forward, but a soldier blocked her path. "Let them work."

The same damn words.

"He’s—"

"He’s in good hands." The soldier didn’t budge.

Frustration bubbled under Zara’s skin, but she forced herself to breathe, to think. Winter needed medical attention—rushing in wouldn’t change that.

"I’ll wait here," she said, glaring at the soldier, daring him to disagree.

The soldier held her gaze for a moment before nodding and stepping aside. Zara exhaled sharply, forcing herself to unclench her fists.

Waiting was the last thing she wanted to do, but she didn’t have a choice. Winter was in there now, and all she could do was trust that the medics knew what they were doing.

A woman in uniform approached, a clipboard in hand. "You two need to get checked for injuries."

Zara hesitated, glancing back at the tent again.

"You’ll be close," the woman assured her. "And we’ll bring you food, clean clothes. You both need rest."

The promise of rest almost made Zara’s knees buckle. She hadn’t realized how exhausted she was until now—until the adrenaline had finally started wearing off.

"If its ok, can we stay here?"

"I understand your worry but please come over to the side where the others are." The woman gave her a knowing look. "You can come back once you’re well rested. They both need you to be strong and active, right?"

Zara frowed, she wasn’t ostructing others from doing their jobs right? But the faster things went here, the faster they could get away from this hell hole.

"Alright," she said, straightening. "Where do we go?"

The woman led them to a smaller tent lined with cots. Other survivors were already there—some lying down, others quietly eating. It was the closest thing to normalcy they had seen in days.

Zara helped Leo onto one of the cots, making sure he was comfortable before sitting down beside him. A medic came by and checked them both, wiping a cool antiseptic cloth over Zara’s scraped-up arms, giving Leo a soft pat on the head when he deemed him fine.

"Here." Someone passed her a metal cup of warm broth. It wasn’t much, but the first sip sent a wave of warmth through her body.

Leo curled into her side, his stuffed bunny clutched tightly in his hands as he nibbled on a piece of bread someone had handed him. He had already been given a ration in the safe room, so he wasn’t too hungry.

Zara let her head rest back against the cot, her eyes fluttering shut for just a moment.

Would it always be like this? Running from place to place, trying to find a semblance of satefy?

*****

Zara jerked awake, her heart slamming against her ribs. For a second, she didn’t know where she was. The dim light, the low murmur of voices, the rough fabric beneath her fingers—it all blurred together in her sleep-addled mind.

Then she felt it.

Leo, pressed against her side, his tiny body warm, his breath slow and steady. Safe.

She exhaled shakily, rubbing a hand over her face only to be obstructed by her breathing mask.

Right, they were attacked and currently moving to the other side of the base called Sector 2.

A soft sound made her freeze.

Leo stirred beside her, murmuring something she couldn’t make out, his fingers clenching around his stuffed bunny. She reached over, smoothing his hair back, whispering, "Shh, baby, it’s okay. I’m right here."

But the unease had already set in.

The tent was still, the survivors inside too exhausted to do more than exist. The occasional clatter of metal bowls and the shuffling of feet outside told her that life—if it could be called that—continued.

Zara pushed herself up, careful not to wake Leo. Her body ached as she stood, her legs protesting every step. She made her way toward the entrance, where the cold night air licked at her skin.

The medical tent was only a few yards away.

How long were they asleep for? Was winter doing ok?

A group of soldiers carried something—someone—out of the tent Winter had been taken to.

Zara stopped dead.

Her breath caught in her throat as she watched the way they moved, careful but brisk. The body was wrapped in a tarp, the edges of it damp with something dark. Blood.

No.

Her feet carried her forward before she could stop them.

"Wait," she said, her voice hoarse

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