Apocalypse Days: I Rule with Foresight and a Powerful Son
Chapter 185

Chapter 185: 185

Zara’s breath snagged in her throat.

Winter.

But something was wrong.

His stance was too still. Rigid. His head tilted to one side, just slightly — unnaturally — like a puppet waiting for a command. Shadows clung to his outline, distorting his shape, making his shoulders seem too sharp, too tall. The flickering light above him stuttered once more... then failed completely.

Darkness swallowed the hallway.

Zara’s instincts screamed.

She took a step back, clutching Leo tighter against her back. "Winter?" she whispered again, softer, more hesitant.

A rasp echoed down the corridor.

Not a voice.

Not breath.

Metal on metal.

A scraping drag.

"Mummy?" Leo’s small voice piped up from her shoulder. "Is that uncle?"

Zara turned on her heel. "No. Not Winter."

The scraping quickened.

The thing stepped into the light.

And her blood turned to ice.

His face—no. Its face—was not quite right.

It was Winter’s shape, Winter’s skin tone, Winter’s eyes. But there was no recognition in them. They were glassy. Empty. And beneath the skin of the jaw, something shifted—like coils writhing just under the surface.

Zara took a step back. Then another.

The figure blinked slowly, its lips parting. "Zzz... Zara," it said in a static-laced whisper, like a corrupted recording.

Leo’s arms tightened around her neck.

She tried to control her breathing. "Nope. Nope, nope, not you," she murmured.

The thing jerked again. Its limbs stuttered, like they were recalibrating.

She turned and ran.

The creature shrieked behind her—not a voice, but a high-frequency keening, like metal tearing against itself.

Zara flinched mid-run. "Shitshitshit—"

Leo whimpered. "Mama, what is it?"

"It’s not him. Hold on, baby."

The hallway blurred around her. Each step jarred Leo against her back, but she didn’t stop. Behind her, the sound followed — a clatter of limbs, an inhuman rhythm. Something scuttled along the walls, just out of sight.

She turned sharply, ducking into another corridor, her boots skidding on the slick floor. Her shoulder clipped the wall. Pain flared.

The lights here were dimmer. Blue emergency strips flickered near the floor, offering only ghostly outlines. She spotted a partially open door and slipped through it, pressing it shut behind them as quietly as she could.

A dark storage room. Shelves lined the walls — empty containment lockers, broken crates, cracked canisters.

Zara dropped to her knees and untied Leo, setting him down gently.

He looked up at her with wide eyes. "Mama... what was that?"

"I don’t know," she whispered, brushing sweaty curls from his forehead. "But it wasn’t safe."

He hugged her.

She held him a moment longer than she should have.

A thump hit the door.

She jolted, her hand shooting to the small knife tucked in her belt.

Another thump.

Then a scratch.

A sound like nails — or claws — raking down metal.

Leo whimpered.

Zara pulled him deeper into the room, past the cluttered shelves to a utility hatch in the floor — barely visible beneath a loose tile. She wrenched it open.

A chute. Narrow and dark.

She stared at it, heart racing. It wasn’t on the map. It could lead anywhere — or nowhere.

But that thing knew where they were.

She looked down at Leo. "We have to play the quiet game again, okay? No sounds. No peeking. No matter what you hear."

He nodded, eyes full of fear but trusting.

Zara lowered him into the chute. He vanished into the dark.

She followed.

The hatch closed above her just as the door to the storage room groaned open.

She held her breath. Counted to ten. Twenty.

Silence.

But only for a moment.

Then something slammed into the hatch above.

Bang.Bang.

Leo whimpered below.

Zara felt the metal vibrate beneath her palms.

She didn’t wait.

She slid.

The chute angled sharply, scraping her arms and spine as she tumbled. Leo screamed below — not from pain, just fear — and Zara twisted to catch him.

They landed hard in a heap of dust and debris, tangled limbs and coughing breaths.

She checked him — a scrape on the elbow, tear tracks on his cheeks — but he was okay. Breathing. Alive.

She gathered him into her arms and looked around.

They were in an ancient maintenance tunnel. Cracked tiles, wires like cobwebs, and thick dust coated every surface. The air smelled like rust and mold.

Behind them, the hatch above sealed itself with a grinding clang.

No going back.

Zara forced herself up. Her knees ached. Her lungs burned. But she had to move.

She took Leo’s hand and started forward.

The tunnel narrowed, then curved left. The walls here were covered in old signs—faded print and biohazard warnings from decades past. She spotted an access terminal, shattered, long dead. She followed a painted arrow that pointed Evacuation Route C.

More footsteps echoed behind them — faint, distant — not from the hatch this time, but further back.

Multiple sets.

Zara’s heart jumped.

No time.

She scooped Leo back into her arms and ran.

They passed another broken door. Inside, she saw ruined desks and shattered glass — maybe a lab office once. She didn’t stop to investigate.

The tunnel finally opened into a larger chamber — a backup generator room.

In the center stood an enormous cylindrical core, half-disassembled. Tools lay scattered around it. Old. Forgotten.

Zara crouched behind a rusted toolbox and caught her breath. Leo clung to her again, too tired now to cry.

"I’m sorry," she whispered into his hair. "I know you’re scared. I am too."

He pulled back just enough to look her in the eyes. "I’m not scared if you’re here."

She nearly broke.

But she didn’t have time.

Footsteps echoed again.

Too close.

Zara scanned the room.

A ladder led up to an overhead catwalk. A control panel perched at the far end. The lights above flickered — but something buzzed near the panel.

Active power.

She could maybe activate a secondary system. Reroute the elevator from before. Or open another sealed passage.

She turned to Leo. "I need you to be brave for just a little longer, okay? I’m going up there."

His bottom lip trembled. "Don’t leave me."

"I’m not. I’ll still see you from up there. But I need you to hide behind that big tank, okay? Right there." She pointed.

He looked at the dark space behind the generator and nodded, holding her hand until the very last second.

She kissed his forehead. "Remember. Quiet as a mouse."

He scampered off. Zara waited until he was hidden, then made for the ladder.

Her arms trembled as she climbed, body screaming in protest. Every muscle felt shredded from tension and crawling and fear. But she pulled herself up, step by painful step, until she reached the catwalk.

The control panel glowed faintly. Old. But online.

She typed.

The interface flickered.

She found a map — distorted, corrupted — but recognizable.

A maintenance rail system. Below the lab. Connected to outer evac tunnels.

Zara worked quickly, rerouting power. The system resisted. Error messages flashed.

She bypassed them. Sparks jumped. The screen buzzed.

A prompt: Manual Key Required.

"Dammit," she hissed.

Below, movement.

A figure entered the chamber.

Tall. Pale. Wearing the same coat Winter always had — but its movements were wrong. Twitches where there should be stillness. Stillness where there should be breath. And eyes — glowing faintly. Red.

It wasn’t Winter.

It wore him.

Zara crouched low on the catwalk, heart thundering.

The thing scanned the room.

Leo was hidden.

Please. Please don’t make a sound.

The figure turned — and its head tilted. Slowly. Like a wolf catching scent.

Zara gripped the pipe beside her. Ready to jump. To draw it away.

But then—

A soft beep behind her.

The panel flickered.

Emergency Rail Shuttle Engaged.

"YES," she whispered.

She darted to the other side of the catwalk and yanked a secondary switch. Somewhere beneath them, gears churned. Tracks groaned to life.

The sound echoed through the room.

The not-Winter spun toward it with a mechanical screech.

Zara didn’t hesitate. She dropped from the catwalk — hard — and landed with a jolt that shocked her knees.

She scrambled up, blood in her mouth.

"LEO!"

He ran to her instantly.

She grabbed him, sprinting across the room toward a now-glowing tunnel that had opened behind the generator.

The thing shrieked.

Zara didn’t look back.

She ran.

Down the new path. Into the dark. Toward the faint light ahead — flickering, unstable — but moving.

A rail shuttle.

Old, dented, powered by something barely hanging on.

Zara leapt into the car and slammed the emergency close.

The doors groaned shut.

The thing reached the tunnel entrance—

—but the shuttle lurched forward.

Too late.

It vanished from view.

Zara collapsed into the metal floor, cradling Leo, who sobbed into her chest.

"We made it," she whispered, her voice raw. "We made it."

But she knew it wasn’t over.

Not yet.

Whatever that thing was, it knew her.

It had worn Winter’s face.

And there were more corridors ahead.

More traps.

More secrets buried beneath this place.

She stroked Leo’s hair as the shuttle carried them deeper into the unknown.

But she made herself a promise.

She’d burn the whole damn facility to the ground before she let them take him again.

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