Apocalypse: The Dead Lives
Chapter 52: The Impossible

Chapter 52: The Impossible

I found Oliver in the makeshift infirmary, sitting on the edge of a cot. He rubbed a towel through his damp hair.

His shoulders were slumped, and he seemed exhausted, but when he looked up and saw me, something in his expression softened.

He seemed happy, excited, and relieved to see me all at the same time.

"Hey," he said, his voice low and rough.

I tried my best to suppress my sobs but failed miserably. I rushed forward, throwing my arms around his neck. He didn’t hesitate and wrapped me in a bone-crushing hug that made my chest ache.

"You absolute dumbass," I whispered into his shoulder. "Why would you go after me? You could’ve gotten yourself killed."

"You ran," Oliver muttered against my hair. "You ran, Hailey. What was I supposed to do? Just let you disappear?"

I pulled back to look at him. As I looked at him I could see the dark circles under his eyes, the tension that lined his face.

"I’m not worth that kind of risk, Oli."

"That’s bullshit."

I swallowed hard. "I missed you."

Tears shot up in his eyes as he watched me, he seemed shocked by my words. "I missed you too, kid. Don’t ever do that to me again. Alright?"

"Yeah," I softly uttered.

"I thought you hated me after I went to jail. I mean I just left you. I couldn’t protect you while I was behind bars. Maybe that’s why I’m so protective of you now."

"I never hated you. Yes, I was disappointed. But through it all, I visited you every weekend. Everyone else might have forgotten you but I couldn’t. You’re my brother." I said and he wiped a stray tear from his cheek.

In all the years I’ve known my brother, I’ve never seen him cry before. I guess there’s a first thing for everything.

"There’s something I need to tell you," I finally murmured.

Oliver pulled back slightly, eyes narrowing. "What is it?"

I exhaled sharply, gathering every ounce of courage I had. "Michael... told me something when I got back. Something about us."

Oliver tensed almost immediately like he knew this conversation was about to take a turn.

"What did he say?"

I hesitated. "He said that you are immune to the NecroVirus."

Silence.

Oliver stared at me, tiredly running a hand over his face. "Immune," he repeated.

"Yeah," I whispered. "He- he used us, Oli. As test subjects when we were kids."

His jaw clenched. "What the hell are you talking about, Hailey-Jade?"

I forced myself to look into his eyes. "Michael injected you with the NecroVive serum before it became a virus. He used my DNA to create it."

Oliver’s hand dropped to his side, his expression shifting from confusion to horror.

"No. No. That’s not possible."

"It is," I said, my voice trembling. "That’s why we’ve never turned. That’s why we never got infected, even after everything."

Oliver raised to his feet, pacing the small room. His jaw clenched and his fists balled at his sides.

"Are you telling me that he experimented on us? That he played god with our lives and just never told us?" Oliver angrily asked.

"Yes."

His breathing was harsh and uneven. "And what does that mean, exactly? What does being ’immune’ even mean?"

I sighed heavily. "You won’t turn, no matter what."

Oliver let out a bitter laugh. "Great. That’s just fucking fantastic, isn’t it? I’m gonna fucking kill him."

I winced. "No, you won’t."

"Yes, I will. He’s better off dead," he muttered.

I reached for his hand, squeezing it tightly.

"You don’t mean that. I know you don’t. I told you because I thought you deserved to know the truth. Don’t make me regret telling you." I pleaded with him.

"I won’t."

"Good. You can talk to Michael once you’ve calmed down."

Oliver looked at me for a long moment before his shoulders sagged. "We were just kids, Hailey." He murmured. "We didn’t even have a choice."

"I know," I whispered. "But we have one now. We can decide what to do with this knowledge."

He nodded slowly, but I could still see the storm raging behind his eyes. This was a truth that neither of us could walk away from, no matter how much we wanted to.

Later, after I left Oliver alone to process everything, Ellie found me.

"Hailey," she called as I walked down the dimly lit hallway.

I kept moving.

"Hailey, come on," she tried again, her voice softer this time. "Can we just talk?"

I scoffed, not even bothering to look at her. "Talk? Like how you ’talked’ to me earlier?"

Ellie sighed, jogging slightly to keep up. "I was out of line, okay? I know that. I was just frustrated, and I-"

"You meant every word," I cut in, my voice flat. "You think I’m selfish. That I make everything about me. That I’m some spoiled princess who doesn’t appreciate what she has."

Ellie hesitated. "That’s not what I meant."

I stopped in my tracks, turning to face her fully. "Then what did you mean, Ellie? Because that’s exactly what it sounded like."

She opened her mouth, then closed it, struggling to find the right words.

I exhaled sharply. "Just forget it. I don’t wanna argue with you. You made yourself very clear."

Ellie looked genuinely hurt, but I didn’t care.

Not right now.

"Hailey-"

"Just drop it, Ellie."

And with that, I walked away, leaving her standing there.

I was heading toward the storage room when I turned a corner too fast, only to bump straight into a broad chest.

"Shit-"

Hands shot out to steady me, gripping my arms as I stumbled back. My breath hitched, and I looked up.

Marco.

His face was unreadable. His dark eyes burned into mine with something I couldn’t quite place.

Confusion, curiosity, maybe even something else.

"Hailey," he murmured.

My stomach twisted. "Marco," I said quietly.

For a moment, neither of us moved. Neither of us spoke. The silence between us stretched, thick with unspoken things.

Then his grip on my arms tightened slightly, just for a second, before he let go.

"Are you avoiding me?" he asked, voice low.

I swallowed hard. "No."

He arched a brow. "Really?"

I hated how he could see right through me.

I stepped back, but he matched my movement. "What do you want, Marco?"

His jaw ticked. "I think you already know."

My heartbeat quickened.

This wasn’t a conversation I was ready for.

Not yet.

"Not now," I murmured, stepping around him.

But I could feel his eyes on me as I walked away.

He followed me and grabbed a hold of my wrist. "Let’s talk, shall we?" He asked and I roughly removed his hand from my wrist.

"Fine. Let’s talk." I breathed out.

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