Chapter 3
565 Words
He froze.
I stared into his eyes. "You know how dangerous the Eastern Ruins are."
"If you really think this mission is that important, if you really think Claire's value is so irreplaceable—then go yourself. Or do you, Commander, only know how to send others to risk their lives?"
The air went still for a few seconds.
Claire spoke softly. "Ethan, it's too dangerous. Don't—"
"I'll go." Ethan agreed without hesitation.
"We leave now. Fast in, fast out."
Twenty minutes later, we were fully armed and leaving the zone.
The Eastern Ruins were more desolate than I remembered.
Zombies wandered among the collapsed walls and broken beams. The wind blew through the streets, a low wail.
I followed behind him, my steps unsteady. The fever blurred my vision.
He walked fast, almost never looking back to wait for me.
The old research institute was in the basement of a half-collapsed office building.
We pried open the rusted iron door and went down the stairs.
The flashlight beam swayed in the darkness, illuminating dried blood and claw marks on the walls.
The medicine storage was at the deepest point.
Most of the vials in the glass cabinets had lost their potency.
He rummaged quickly.
"Got it." He picked up a silver metal box. Inside were five light-blue vials.
We turned back. As soon as we climbed to the first floor, my legs suddenly gave out.
The fever and overexertion hit me all at once. Spots swam before my eyes.
I leaned against the wall, gasping. Cold sweat soaked through my back.
"Sylvia?" He turned around.
"I can't walk anymore." I gritted my teeth. "Let me... rest a minute."
He checked his watch and frowned. "We can't delay. If Claire's fever spreads to his lungs, it'll be serious."
I looked up at him.
There was a storage room at the end of the hallway, its door half open. He helped me inside and sat me down on an abandoned crate.
"Hide here and lock the door." He shoved a pistol into my hand.
"I'll go back first with the medicine. I'll bring people to get you in two hours, tops."
I grabbed his wrist.
My fingers were burning with fever. His skin was cool.
"Ethan," I said, very quietly. "I'm like this, and you're still going back to save him first?"
He was silent for a few seconds.
Then, one by one, he pried my fingers loose.
"Clairy needs me. I'll leave one vial for you," he said, not avoiding my eyes.
"His life concerns the entire Safe Zone. Sylvia, you're a soldier. You can hold on."
Clairy.
He called her Clairy.
I let go.
He turned and left. His footsteps echoed down the empty hallway, growing fainter and fainter until they disappeared into the stairwell.
The storage room door was open a c***k. The light of the setting sun leaked through the gap, cutting a thin gold line on the floor.
I leaned against the crate and closed my eyes.
In the distance, zombies howled. Faint human screams followed.
The world was still brutal, but at that moment, I felt strangely calm.
"Ethan, you chose him again. Then this is it for us."
I gripped the pistol. The cold metal seeped through my palm.
The fever still burned, but something hotter was waking up from the ashes.
"Ethan, you will regret this."
- Writer
