Zara woke slowly, warmth pressing against her side, a steady rise and fall beneath her cheek.
Her eyes cracked open, and for a mont, she forgot where they were. The sterile walls, the unfamiliar mattress, the faint hum of a ventilation system overhead—it was all different.
Then she rembered— the attack, the creatures—
Sector 2.
She shifted slightly, feeling the weight of an arm over her waist. Winter.
Leo had rolled away soti during the night, sprawled out on his stomach on the far side of the bed, leaving just her and Winter pressed together.
She turned just enough to look at him, her gaze tracing the faint marks along his jaw and down his neck and arms. A reminder of the questions she still didn’t have answers to.
She had let it go before—there hadn’t been ti, they were all tired and Winter wasn’t exactly the most forthcoming person when he wanted to be—but now, in the quiet of the morning, with no imminent threats, the curiosity gnawed at her.
As if sensing her gaze, Winter stirred. His breathing hitched, then settled. His eyes flickered open, dark and unreadable at first before they focused on her.
There was sothing unspoken in the way they looked at each other. Sothing different from before.
Neither of them moved away.
"You’re staring," Winter murmured, voice rough with sleep.
Zara exhaled softly, more amused than embarrassed. "You have a lot of bruises."
"Not my fault I’m so punchable."
She rolled her eyes, but before she could say anything else, he shifted, rolling onto his back and stretching. The mont of quiet closeness passed, but sothing about it lingered.
Zara sat up, rubbing at her face before glancing over at Leo, who was still curled up on the far side of the bed, tucked into the blankets. "I need to tell you sothing," she said, her voice quieter now.
Winter looked at her, waiting.
"The creature that attacked yesterday," she began, trying to find the right words. "It—it spoke to ."
Winter’s expression sharpened. "Spoke?"
She nodded. "It asked for my lungs."
Winter pushed up onto an elbow, staring at her like he needed to confirm she wasn’t ssing with him. His posture shifting into sothing more alert. "That’s...not what I was expecting you to say."
"Yeah, well, imagine how I felt hearing it."
There was a pause. Winter ran a hand through his hair, frowning. "So it didn’t just see you as prey. It wanted sothing specific."
Zara nodded. "And I think I know why."
Winter gave her a look. "You do?"
"I’ve been thinking about it," she said, shifting so she was fully sitting now. "The mist. It’s more than just atmospheric pollution. I think it’s essential to them."
Winter shifted closer to her, watching her carefully. "Go on."
Zara’s thoughts spilt out, her scientific mind taking over.
"The mist—whatever it is—has properties that our bodies can’t handle. It either kills us or... changes us." She hesitated, rembering the way the creatures moved. There was no pattern to who turned and who died.
"Zombies," Winter supplied dryly.
She scowled at him. "It’s not funny."
"I’m not laughing."
She rolled her eyes. "What if the mist is how they breathe? What if whatever is in it is toxic to us, but completely necessary for them?"
Winter was quiet for a long ti, processing.
"...And if they have our lungs," he said slowly, "then they have a way to survive here."
She nodded. "Look, I think the creatures are adapted to it. And if that’s true, then it ans they don’t just want to kill us. They need sothing. Maybe our organs can filter the mist in a way theirs can’t."
Winter exhaled, rubbing at his jaw. "That’s disturbing."
"Yeah."
There was another pause before he said, "If you’re right, it ans they have a reason to be here. And it also ans we need to figure out what the hell this mist actually is."
Zara nodded. "Exactly. But who do we even tell? We’re already in deep with the base. Sector Two is surrounded by the outer base. If we wanted to leave..."
Winter t her gaze. "It’d be hard."
A grim silence fell between them.
The implications of this were staggering. It ant the creatures weren’t just mindless killers. It ant they had a purpose.
It ant they had a plan.
Zara exhaled sharply, running a hand through her hair.
Sector 2 was surrounded by the outer base, boxed in like a cage. It was nearly impossible for them to leave.
"If they send us back to the main base," she said, "if it can even be cleared... we’ll be under even more control."
Winter sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. "We’re not leaving any ti soon."
A few minutes passed in silence as they both processed everything.
Then, a sleepy groan broke the quiet.
Leo stirred from his spot on the cot, letting out a grumbly little noise before blinking up at them.
He imdiately rolled toward Winter, reaching out with grabby hands.
Winter stiffened. "What—"
"Carry ," Leo mumbled sleepily, already burrowing against Winter’s side.
Zara pressed her lips together, barely suppressing a laugh.
Winter, to his credit, looked like he had been personally attacked.
"...I don’t—"
Leo made an impatient noise, wiggling his fingers at him. "Carry. ."
Zara arched a brow. "Better do what he says."
Winter shot her a glare, but, with an exaggerated sigh, he looped an arm around Leo and hoisted him up with ease.
Leo clung to him like a koala, yawning into his shoulder.
After a mont, he blinked up at them both and asked, "What are we doing today?"
"Probably eat and play for you," Winter said, getting off the bed.
Zara opened her mouth to speak but hesitated. Her gaze flickered down to Winter’s wrist—where faint, reddened marks circled the skin.
Her stomach twisted. "Winter," she said slowly, "what happened during the screening?"
Winter glanced at her, then down at his wrist like he had forgotten about it. "Oh. That."
Zara folded her arms. "Yes. That."
He smirked slightly. "They tied to a chair."
Her fingers curled into her sleeves. "Excuse ?"
Winter shrugged, shifting Leo slightly.
"Tied down," he confird, stretching out his bruised wrist. "They wanted to see what I could do."
Her jaw clenched. "And?"
Winter’s smirk turned a little sharper. "I told them I could break out."
Zara stared at him with wide eyes. Did this lunatic have a death wish?
"But they had guns," he added, tone casual. "Didn’t feel like testing how bulletproof I am."
Zara felt sothing hot coil in her chest. She turned away from him and started pacing. "They tied you down? Like you were so kind of lab rat?"
Winter watched her, head tilting slightly. "Technically, they were asking questions first. Tying down ca later."
"That doesn’t make it better!" she snapped.
Winter smirked. "A little."
She whirled on him. "This isn’t funny."
"I an, a little," he repeated. "You should’ve seen their faces when I told them I could break out."
Zara let out an irritated sound, throwing her hands up. "I swear to god, Winter—"
A knock at the door cut her off.
Winter shifted, his expression sobering as he adjusted Leo slightly on his hip. Zara turned to the door just as it opened, revealing a soldier standing stiffly in the hallway.
What the hell? They could just open the doors themselves?
"Dr. Zara," the soldier said. "You’re required in the research sector."
Zara frowned. "Why?"
"You’re a scientist," was the only explanation she got.
Winter shifted, already setting Leo down. "I’ll go with—"
The soldier cut him off. "You have a day’s pass to heal. Military personnel are expected to be in top shape."
Zara t Winter’s gaze. His jaw tightened slightly but he didn’t argue.
She exhaled, turning back to the soldier. "Fine. Lead the way."
As she left, she noticed more guards stationed outside. More caras.
Overhead, a voice echoed from the speakers. Compliance ensures order. Order ensures survival.
Zara’s gut twisted.
Sothing about this place felt wrong.
As Zara followed the soldier through the facility, her unease only grew.
The previous base had been grim, yes—rationed supplies, exhausted survivors, guards patrolling the periter. But people had still milled about, talking in hushed voices, offering weak smiles to one another when they passed. Even at the end of the world, there had been traces of humanity.
Here?
There was none.
Every person they passed moved with purpose. No lingering, no idle conversations. The halls were stark, clinical, too clean—the kind of sanitized sterility that made her skin crawl. Soldiers marched in formation, weapons at their sides, eyes sharp and unreadable. Civilians—scientists, engineers, dical personnel—walked briskly, heads down, their faces tight with tension.
No smiles. No whispered jokes. No sense of camaraderie.
Only order.
Zara’s gut twisted again.
She stole a glance at a nearby checkpoint, watching as another soldier swiped an ID card against a scanner. The tal doors hissed open, allowing him through.
"Identification required at all access points," a chanical voice intoned from a nearby speaker.
Zara turned to her escort. "You have security this tight inside the base?"
The soldier didn’t look at her as he led her forward. Swipe. Beep. Another door unlocked.
"You think the things out there are the only threat?" he said flatly.
Zara didn’t answer.
Swipe. Beep. Another door.
The deeper they went, the more restricted it beca.
Finally, the soldier stopped. He pulled out an ID card from his belt and held it out to her.
"Don’t lose this," he said.
Zara hesitated before taking it. It was smooth and cold in her fingers, her na and a barcode printed beneath a classified designation.
She slipped it into her pocket, trying to ignore the way her stomach clenched.
The soldier stepped aside, nodding toward the doors ahead.
"The lab is inside."
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