Apocalypse Days: I Rule with Foresight and a Powerful Son
Chapter 152

Chapter 152: 152

The air inside the control room had gone eerily still, the only sound the faint hum of dying equipment and the sharp breaths of the soldiers. Winter’s gaze locked with Harlow’s, the sharp blue of his eyes reflecting the same unease that coiled in his gut.

"Tell me you saw that," Harlow muttered, voice just above a whisper.

Winter exhaled slowly. "I saw it."

The figure on the security feed—no, the thing—had moved unnaturally, its presence flickering in and out like a corrupted signal. Too fluid. Too wrong.

One of the techs was already scrambling at the terminal, fingers flying across the keys in an attempt to restore the feed.

"Come on, come on," the tech hissed. "System’s locked out."

Harlow leaned over. "By who?"

The tech’s face drained of colour. "Unknown source."

Winter’s pulse ticked higher. That wasn’t just a security breach. That was a deliberate override.

"Pull up the last recorded footage," he ordered.

The screen flickered. Then—static. The timestamp read nearly three weeks old.

"That’s impossible," another soldier whispered. "We just saw—"

"No," Winter cut in. "We don’t assume anything yet." But his grip on the edge of the console tightened.

They had all seen it. A figure standing in the ruins, just at the edge of the perimeter. Something their minds told them should be a man, yet every instinct screamed otherwise.

If the time stamp was correct, this was deeper than they thought. The breach had only happened a few days ago. That thing had been out for weeks.

One of the scouts radioed in, voice uneven.

"Movement outside."

The room collectively tensed.

Winter pressed the comm. "Clarify."

A crackle in his earpiece made them both tense. One of the perimeter scouts, voice unsteady, reported in. "We’ve got movement outside. But... you’re not gonna believe this."

Winter’s fingers tightened around his rifle. "Try me."

The scout hesitated. "Footprints. In the dust. Leading in circles."

Winter frowned. "Circles?"

"Like—like someone staggering. Or being dragged."

A shiver licked down Winter’s spine. "Where do they lead?"

Static crackled in the line before the scout’s voice came again, sharper. "The tracks just... stop. Right in the open."

Silence filled the room. Winter exchanged another glance with Harlow. That wasn’t right. Even a skilled operative would leave something behind. A disturbance. A sign of withdrawal.

But the tracks just ended?

More movement on the feed—another soldier reporting seeing something shifting between the ruins. No confirmation. No body. Just a shadow.

A shadow that shouldn’t be there.

"Alright," Winter said, voice cutting through the tension. "We’re done guessing. We need hard evidence."

A voice from the lab team called out, breaking through the haze of growing paranoia. "Sir. Found something."

Winter strode over. The soldier’s face was pale as he pointed to a partially erased log entry flickering on one of the terminals.

Containment Failure – Subject Classified

The message cut off mid-sentence.

Harlow swore. "That’s it. We’re pulling back."

Winter gave a curt nod. They were deep in the unknown, and that was never a place you wanted to be unprepared. "We regroup at Sector 2!" Then he lowered his voice at Harlowe. "We bring this to Bale before command buries it."

"Before they bury us," Harlow muttered.

Winter turned back, scanning the lab one last time. His gut told him there was more—something still hidden. His eyes fell on the dismantled containment pod, wires gutted, glass fractured. He ran his fingers along the metal, feeling for a seam. A click.

A compartment slid open.

Inside, a small data drive.

Winter palmed it discreetly, slipping it into his gear. No one noticed. Not even Harlow.

He straightened. "Move out."

As they moved out, one of the younger soldiers hesitated, lips parted like he wanted to speak. Winter met his eyes. A silent question.

But the kid just swallowed hard and looked away.

They stepped outside.

The team gathered at the entrance, eyes darting back toward the ruins. A few of the detained guards were released, their expressions still ghostly pale.

Even as they boarded the military transport, the feelings of unseen eyes pressed against them.

The ruins were watching.

*****

The vehicle rumbled forward, but the silence inside was heavier than the armor plating.

Winter sat stiffly, feeling the data drive like a brand against his skin. Across from him, Harlow kept casting sideways glances, restless energy rolling off him.

Winter pulled out his portable device. The drive slid into place with a faint click.

"What is that?" Harlow asked, closing his eyes with a heavy sigh.

"Found it in the lab," Winter said quietly.

Harlow’s head snapped toward him. "Are you insane?" he hissed.

Winter smirked. "Depends who you ask."

Harlow checked around quickly before leaning in. "You have a death wish, you crazy bastard." But his eyes glinted with something close to excitement.

Winter tried to open the files. The screen blinked. A lockout request flashed across the interface.

Encrypted.

Of course.

Winter exhaled through his nose, closing the device. "We’ll hand it to Bale."

Harlow nodded but stayed tense. His foot tapped against the floor. The vehicle’s radio crackled, distorting slightly before falling silent again.

No one spoke for the rest of the ride.

*****

The military transport hummed beneath them, a low vibration that did nothing to settle the unease in Winter’s gut. Outside, the perimeter lights of Sector 2 flickered against the night, throwing long shadows over the checkpoint barriers.

Winter flicked a glance at Harlow, who was staring out the window, jaw tight. The rest of the team shifted uneasily, some adjusting their gear, others checking their weapons like they expected something to happen.

The vehicle slowed as they reached the checkpoint. A sharp beep echoed through the cabin, followed by a long, unnatural pause.

Winter frowned. "Why aren’t the codes working?"

Harlow leaned forward, fingers tapping against his knee. "This is taking too long."

Another beep. Another pause. The silence stretched.

Then, abruptly, the doors hissed open. The guards waved them through without a word, but Winter caught the way one of them hesitated before pressing the final authorization. Like someone on the other end wasn’t sure if they should be letting them in at all.

Winter exhaled sharply. Not good.

Bale was waiting just past the barricade, arms crossed, the deep furrow between his brows making him look like he had been pissed off for hours. As soon as Winter and Harlow stepped out of the transport, he was on them.

"Tell me you didn’t just piss off command," he snapped, voice low. "You were only gone a few hours."

Winter met his gaze, testing the waters. "We found something. Something wrong."

Bale’s expression darkened. "What kind of wrong?"

Harlow folded his arms. "The kind that gets buried."

"And probably us along with it."

"Elaborate."

Winter glanced at Harlow before answering, keeping his tone even. "We were doing what we went there for—a normal sweep of the ruins to find anything useful and clear debris."

Bale’s expression didn’t shift, but the way his fingers tightened against his arms showed he wasn’t buying that as the full story.

Harlow took over. "Then we noticed some soldiers guarding a lab. It was in better shape than most of the buildings around it. Looked intact. Too intact."

Bale’s scowl twitched, his focus sharpening. His arms uncrossed as he straightened slightly. "A lab?" His tone was different now—more alert. "You’re sure?"

Winter nodded. "We got close. Something was wrong with it."

Bale’s attention was fully locked onto them now. "Define ’wrong.’"

Winter exchanged a brief glance with Harlow before answering. "More than we expected."

Harlow exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "For starters? The security feed showed us something that shouldn’t exist. And when we tried to check the system—nothing. Weeks-old data, remote lockout, and then a full blackout. Like someone didn’t want us to see what was actually there."

Bale’s expression flickered—confusion first, then something wary. Not the reaction of someone trying to cover anything up. "You think someone inside command is blocking access?"

Winter didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he watched Bale’s face, weighing his next words. "I think someone doesn’t want anyone looking too closely," he admitted. "And it’s not just security footage. One of my men found an erased log entry. Something about a containment failure. Subject classified."

Bale stiffened.

"Containment failure," he repeated, voice quieter now, like he didn’t want the wrong ears to hear it.

"That’s what it said," Winter confirmed. "Before it cut off."

Harlow exhaled. "Look, you were right. About there being traitors in our ranks. We don’t know what the hell they want, but they’re doing everything they can to keep us from figuring it out."

Bale’s fingers flexed against his biceps. His gaze flickered past them, scanning the checkpoint, the guards, the cameras overhead. He was thinking, calculating.

Before he could respond, a sharp voice cut through the tension.

"Captain Winter. Lieutenant Harlow."

A uniformed officer approached, flanked by two security personnel. His expression was unreadable, but the stiff way he held himself was all Winter needed to know.

"The higher-ups are requesting your immediate debriefing," the officer continued. "Not here. With command."

Winter’s gut twisted. That was never a good sign.

Harlow let out a low breath. "Shit."

Bale’s gaze snapped to Winter, something warning in his expression. They wouldn’t have another chance to talk.

Winter made his decision in an instant. As the officer turned to lead them away, he stepped closer to Bale, pressing a small drive into his palm with a quick, firm motion.

"Found this in the lab," Winter murmured under his breath.

Bale barely reacted, just curled his fingers around the drive and slid it into his sleeve with ease.

Then Winter and Harlow were moving, following the officer into the depths of the base.