Chapter 2 The One That Waited

Nyra Kane had survived six months among the dead.

But she had never heard one say her name.

She remained beside the window long after the infected man disappeared into the darkness. The paper announcing Kael's survival was still clenched in her fist, its edges damp from her sweaty palm.

She read the message again.

BLACKRIDGE. SUBJECT D-17. ALIVE.

Then she remembered the voice from outside.

Nyra.

It hadn't sounded like a growl. It hadn't sounded like the mindless noises the infected made when they caught the scent of living flesh.

It had sounded like someone trying to speak.

Someone who knew her.

She packed her belongings without sleeping. By dawn, the laundromat was behind her, and the road to the old police station lay ahead.

If someone had hidden information about Kael, the evacuation records might tell her where to begin.

She kept to the side streets, avoiding intersections and broken vehicles where infected liked to gather. Her injured leg throbbed beneath its bandage, but she ignored the pain. She had wasted six months believing there was nothing left to search for.

She wouldn't waste another day.

The police station stood near the abandoned bus terminal, its front windows shattered and its doors hanging open. Before the outbreak, it had served as an emergency coordination centre. Now weeds grew through the entrance, and a rusted police car sat half-submerged in a pool of rainwater.

Nyra approached with her pipe raised.

"Anyone inside?" she called quietly.

Silence.

She stepped through the entrance.

The lobby was a mess of overturned chairs, broken glass, and papers scattered across the floor. Someone had emptied the emergency cabinets. The reception desk had been forced open, and dried blood marked the wall behind it.

Nyra searched the drawers.

Nothing useful.

She moved into the next room, checking beneath desks and inside cupboards. Most of the documents had been soaked by rain leaking through the ceiling. She nearly abandoned the search when she noticed a thin folder wedged behind a broken filing cabinet.

A red stamp covered its front.

BLACKRIDGE EVACUATION - RESTRICTED PERSONNEL

Nyra's heart began to pound.

She opened it.

The folder contained transport schedules, names of evacuees, and handwritten notes about people who had been separated from the general population during the evacuation. Several pages were missing, but enough remained to reveal a disturbing pattern.

Some civilians had been marked with codes.

Others had been transferred to locations that didn't appear on the official evacuation maps.

Nyra searched for Kael's name.

She found it on the third page.

KANE, KAEL - AGE 17.

Beneath his name was a note.

TRANSFERRED TO HELIX STATION. STATUS: RESTRICTED.

A date had been written beside it.

Five months earlier.

Nyra gripped the folder so tightly that the paper crumpled.

Kael had survived for at least a month after she escaped Blackridge.

Someone had taken him from the evacuation centre and transported him to a secret facility.

Why?

She searched the remaining pages for an answer, but the only other reference to Kael was a warning written in red ink.

SUBJECT D-17 DISPLAYS ABNORMAL MEMORY RETENTION. DO NOT RELEASE WITHOUT AUTHORIZATION.

Abnormal memory retention.

The phrase made her think of the infected man outside her shelter.

She shook her head.

She needed more evidence before drawing conclusions.

A burst of static came from the room behind her.

Nyra spun around, pipe raised.

An old emergency radio sat on a desk beneath a broken wall clock. Its indicator light blinked weakly, though the rest of the station had no electricity.

She approached slowly and adjusted the dial.

Static filled the room.

Then a voice emerged.

"...Helix Station personnel... maintain containment protocols..."

Nyra leaned closer.

The transmission crackled again.

"...Subject D-17 must remain isolated. Repeated recognition events have been documented..."

Recognition events.

Her fingers tightened around the radio.

A second voice interrupted the transmission.

"Control, this is the observation wing. Subject D-17 is asking about his sister again."

Nyra stopped breathing.

A man's voice answered.

"Do not discuss family members with the subject. His responses are becoming increasingly difficult to predict."

The radio hissed.

Then another voice spoke.

It was young, weak, and painfully familiar.

"Nyra?"

She gripped the edge of the desk.

"Kael?"

The radio crackled violently.

"If you're listening..." Kael whispered, "...don't trust them."

A loud crash interrupted him.

Someone shouted in the background.

Then the transmission ended.

Nyra stood motionless, staring at the radio.

It was him.

She knew the way he breathed between words, the slight break in his voice when he was frightened. She had heard that voice every day of her life until Blackridge tore them apart.

Kael was alive.

But the warning terrified her more than the confirmation.

Don't trust them.

Who were they?

And what had they done to him?

A heavy impact sounded from the front entrance.

Nyra grabbed the folder and shoved it into her backpack.

Another impact shook the building.

She hurried towards a side window and peered through a crack in the boards.

The infected man in the blue shirt stood across the street.

Behind him, several more infected had gathered at the intersection. They were not wandering aimlessly or chasing passing sounds. They stood facing the police station, their bodies unnaturally still.

Nyra counted nine.

Then twelve.

More emerged from the mist.

Her stomach twisted.

She had seen crowds of infected before, but never a group behaving like this.

The man in the blue shirt stepped away from the others and approached the police station.

He stopped at the entrance.

Slowly, he raised one hand and knocked against the metal door.

Three times.

Tap.

Nyra backed away from the window.

The infected had copied her knocking pattern the previous day. Now it was using the same pattern to find her again.

She moved towards the rear exit.

A growl came from the corridor.

Nyra froze.

Another infected stood between her and the exit, its torn uniform suggesting it had once been a police officer. Its head turned towards her, and its mouth opened.

She had seconds.

Nyra hurled an empty metal can towards the opposite doorway.

The noise echoed through the station.

The infected officer turned towards it.

Nyra sprinted past and shoved through the rear door. She emerged into a narrow alley, jumped over a fallen fence, and ran until the police station was several streets behind her.

Only then did she stop.

Her lungs burned. Her leg throbbed, and her hands shook around the pipe.

She forced herself to breathe slowly.

Kael was alive.

He was at Helix Station.

And something about him had frightened the people holding him.

Nyra pulled out the folder and checked the final page again. Beneath the transfer details was a small symbol: a black circle crossed by three lines.

She had seen it on the security uniforms at Blackridge.

Below it, someone had written a name.

COMMANDER SERAPHINE VOSS.

Nyra knew nothing about the commander except that whoever left the message believed she wanted Kael.

That was enough.

She folded the page and placed it inside her jacket.

The road to Helix Station would take her through Blackridge, across the mountain pass, and into territory where the infected were reportedly changing faster than anywhere else.

She had no vehicle, limited food, and no guarantee she would survive the journey.

But for the first time in six months, she had a destination.

Nyra started walking.

Behind her, in the abandoned police station, the infected man in the blue shirt entered the lobby. He ignored the scattered papers and the overturned furniture.

He walked directly to the desk where Nyra had found the folder.

His pale eyes settled on the empty space.

Then he turned towards the mountain road.

One by one, the infected outside began following him.

And somewhere beneath Helix Station, behind reinforced glass, Kael Kane pressed both hands against his cell door.

He had heard his sister's voice through the radio.

He knew she was coming.

That should have made him happy.

Instead, he struck the door with his fist and shouted at the watching researchers.

"Lock down the facility!"

They stared at him.

Kael's cloudy eyes shifted towards the ceiling, where a faint vibration had begun travelling through the ventilation shafts.