Apocalypse Days: I Rule with Foresight and a Powerful Son
Chapter 156

Chapter 156: 156

The room was dim, sterile white lights buzzing faintly above. The faint smell of antiseptic clung to the air, blending with something metallic—blood, maybe. Winter barely noticed. His focus was on the woman in the bed, the only thing grounding him right now.

Winter’s grip on Zara’s hand was tight—almost too tight. The cold that usually clung to his touch had been replaced with a feverish warmth, an undeniable reminder of how close he had come to losing her.

Again.

She was awake now, her breaths slow and steady, but he couldn’t shake the image of her unconscious in their arms, limp and pale.

The dim, sterile lighting of the base’s infirmary cast soft shadows over her face, accentuating the exhaustion in her half-lidded eyes, and the tension in the way her body struggled to push past the weakness. He could see her trying to piece together what had happened, her mind working through the fog.

Zara shifted slightly, her fingers flexing against his, testing their grip. Her voice was hoarse when she finally spoke.

"What... what’s going on?"

Winter exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair. He didn’t want to tell her. Not now. Not when she was still weak, still fragile. But then she looked at him—that look. The one that didn’t allow for avoidance or half-truths.

"They were trying to take you."

Zara stiffened beneath the thin infirmary sheets. The words landed with weight, sinking deep into the space between them.

"Yeah," she muttered. "I noticed. Why?"

Winter hesitated. He knew why. They both did. But he also knew they weren’t alone in this room, and the last thing he wanted was to put a target on her back even more than it already was. His jaw clenched.

"That’s what we’re trying to figure out," he said carefully. "But it’s because of... that."

She understood immediately.

Her ability.

Her fingers curled slightly against his palm, but she didn’t let go.

He suddenly remembered that they hadn’t really parted on the right terms. If he had been a few minutes late, would he have lost her? Just like that?

As if going through his mind, zara yawned. "So... do you always kiss people to prove a point?"

He closed his eyes for a brief second before dragging a hand down his face. He had really screwed up.

"It wasn’t—" He stopped, exhaling through his nose. "It wasn’t about proving anything to myself."

Zara arched a brow, waiting.

He swallowed hard, his voice low, raw. "It was about proving it to you."

She tilted her head slightly. "You already said that."

Winter’s jaw tensed. He had. Back at the base, before he stormed off like an idiot.

Instead of arguing, he let out a humourless laugh. "Because I’m an idiot."

His chest tightened. He forced himself to look at her, to hold her gaze even as it burned through him.

"I kissed you because I do want you, Zara," he said, voice rough with something dangerously close to vulnerability. "Not as a replacement. Not as a mistake." He exhaled sharply. "I’m fucking tired of losing people. You... you’re the only thing that’s felt real since—"

He stopped himself before he could say too much. Before he could let her see just how much she had settled into the fractures of his soul.

Zara exhaled slowly, the sharp edges of her frustration dulling into something quieter. More worn.

"Then tell me that next time," she said. "Don’t just... act like I should know how you feel. That’s supposed to be my thing."

Winter let out a quiet snort, shaking his head. "Unbelievable," he muttered.

Her brow lifted again. "What?"

"Nothing," His smirk was brief, but it was there. "Should I assume that I’ve been forgiven?" He asked gently.

"Maybe," she huffed, closing her eyes with a sigh.

This time, when he reached for her hand again, she didn’t pull away.

Leo snuggled into her side, his small arms wrapped tightly around her waist. Zara’s fingers thread through his curls, the contact grounding her as much as it does him.

The moment was short-lived.

She took a slow breath and tried to push herself upright, only for her body to betray her.

She barely made it an inch off the bed before a sharp tremor wracked her limbs, and Winter caught her instinctively, his hands bracing her shoulders. His touch lingered, steady and firm.

Zara exhaled, frustration tightening her features. "Something’s wrong."

Winter straightened, already on high alert. "What do you mean wrong?"

She hesitated, searching for the words, but Leo—still clinging to her side like a lifeline—whined softly, pressing his small body against her.

"It’s like..." Zara swallowed, shifting against the pillows as if testing her strength. "I don’t know. I feel... off."

Winter’s grip on her shoulders didn’t loosen. "Off how?"

She let out a slow breath, brows knitting together. "Weak, obviously. But it’s more than that. My head feels... heavy. Like something’s pressing down on me."

Winter’s expression darkened. "You think they already did something to you?"

"I don’t know," she shrugged weakly.

She wanted to say no. That paranoia wasn’t going to help either of them right now. But she couldn’t shake the feeling crawling up her spine, sinking into her bones.

"But I don’t feel right. Maybe if we go to-"

A sharp, immediate no rang in Winter’s head.

"You’re not going back to that infirmary," he said, voice low, hard. "No more tests. No more hands on you."

Zara blinked up at him, startled by the intensity in his voice.

Winter exhaled sharply, running a hand down his face. His mind was already racing—was this something the medics had done? Something they had given her? Had they tried to suppress her ability, or worse, enhance it? The idea made his blood run cold.

Zara watched him carefully, her exhaustion doing nothing to dull the sharpness of her gaze.

"Winter," she said, softer now. "What aren’t you telling me?"

"Nothing," he sighed. "I just got here. if there’s someone who can answer, it’s probably Sam."

As if on cue, the door opened.

Winter immediately tensed, shoulders snapping straight, already bracing for trouble.

Sam stepped inside, his expression grim. He wasn’t alone. A medic followed close behind, one of the ones who had been involved in Zara’s "transfer." The woman looked nervous, shifting uncomfortably under Winter’s sharp gaze.

Sam exhaled, rubbing at his temple. "Look, I hate to break up this heartfelt moment, but we have bigger problems."

Winter’s eyes narrowed. "Like what?"

Sam hesitated. "Like the fact that Adrian Locke isn’t done trying to get Zara."

Zara stiffened, going pale. "You think he’ll try again?"

Sam nodded. "The only reason they backed off tonight was because of you, Winter. Because you made a scene. But they won’t stop."

Winter’s blood ran cold. He clenched his fists so hard his nails dug into his palms.

He turned his glare onto the medic. "Start talking."

The woman swallowed hard, eyes flicking toward Zara. "Her bloodwork..." She hesitated, clearly debating how much to say. "It was flagged for anomalies. She’s... different from other ability users."

A heavy silence fell over the room. So they had already run tests on her.

Zara shifted, eyes darkening. "Different how?"

The doctor shifted uncomfortably. "The higher-ups don’t just want to study her. They want to—" He hesitates. "—replicate her."

Zara stiffens.

A sick feeling curls in Winter’s gut. "You mean experiment on her."

The medic doesn’t deny it.

But then—

"They were watching him too." The medic glanced at Leo.

A cold chill slithered down Zara’s spine. "That doesn’t make any sense," she said quickly. "Leo was born before the apocalypse."

She didn’t say he had an ability.

But Winter saw the way her fingers trembled slightly against Leo’s back.

Before he could say anything else—

A slow knock hit the door.

Winter’s muscles locked. His instincts screamed danger.

The door opened, and in walked Adrian Locke, smug as ever. He looked around, his eyes brushing over each of them, pausing on the trembling medic before landing on Zara.

"Ah," Adrian said, his voice smooth as silk. "I see you’re awake, Miss Zara."

Winter shifted immediately, stepping between Adrian and the bed.

Adrian’s gaze flickered with amusement. "Relax," he drawled. "I came to check on her well-being."

"Bullshit," Winter snarled.

Zara, though visibly weak, schooled her expression into something calm.

Adrian smiled. "I have to admit, we were worried. You took quite a fall."

Winter’s fingers twitched. He was still running on adrenaline, the remnants of fury burning in his veins. It took everything in him not to throw a punch.

"That’s why you sent those people to kidnap me, right?"

Adrian tilted his head. "You understand, of course, that we need to evaluate you further."

"Evaluate?" Winter echoed, his voice dangerously low.

Adrian spread his hands in a mockery of innocence. "Surely you understand. After all, we only want what’s best for—"

"Try harder," Zara interrupted.

Adrian’s smile widened slightly. "Excuse me?"

"You’re dancing around the truth," she said. "We both know you’re not here out of concern."

Winter felt a rush of something darkly satisfied at her sharp tone.

Adrian merely sighed. "Ah, well. I suppose I’ll leave you to wonder, then."

His eyes flicked toward Leo again, and Winter’s eyes narrowed, stepping between them.

He took a step closer. Winter stepped between them.

"Careful," Locke murmured, his eyes glinting. "You’re already on thin ice, Winter."

Winter’s fists clenched at his sides.

Locke’s voice remained infuriatingly calm. "Snooping around. Threatening staff. Not being on my side... That’s going to cause problems for you if you plan on staying here."

Adrian’s gaze lingered a second longer before he turned. "Enjoy your evening."

As soon as he left, the tension in the room thickened.

Winter exhaled sharply, trying to reel himself back in.

Zara surprised him by gripping his wrist.

He looked at her, pulse still racing.

"We need to be smart about this," she murmured.

Winter nodded, his mind already spinning through possibilities. They were running out of time. If the base had been experimenting with ability users, then Zara—hell, all of them—were in danger.

His grip on her hand tightened.

"We’re getting to the bottom of this," he said, voice steady. "Soon."

Zara hesitated, something flickering in her eyes. She wanted to say something—he could tell—but she didn’t.

Winter caught the look, understanding immediately. He nodded.

He glanced toward the door before lowering his voice. "I’ll ask when we can leave this place."

Then, more possessively—more like a promise—he added, "I want you back in the apartment. With me."

Zara understood what he meant.

And she didn’t argue.

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