Memories in the Midst of Chaos

We moved through the alleyways like shadows, sticking close to the walls, every sound amplified in the stillness of the night. The city had quieted, but it wasn't the peaceful kind of silence—it was the heavy, expectant quiet, the kind that filled the air just before something terrible happened.

"Stay low," Zeke whispered, his eyes darting between the buildings as we slipped through another crumbling street. His usual smirk was gone, replaced by a grim expression that mirrored how we all felt.

The infected had become more active after sunset. We'd seen them roaming in packs, dragging themselves through the streets with unsettling speed, their twisted forms barely resembling the people they once were. Each encounter left a chill that sank deeper into my bones. They weren't just sick—they were feral.

I caught a glimpse of one near a bus stop. It was crouched, hunched over like an animal, its skin pale and slick with sweat. It moved in jerks, twitching and turning its head as if it were listening to something only it could hear. Every so often, it would let out a low, guttural growl that set my teeth on edge.

"We need to go faster," Apollo muttered, his hand brushing mine as we stepped over broken glass. He had been keeping close to me since we left the warehouse, his presence a quiet reminder that I wasn't alone. I nodded, pulling my jacket tighter around me as we moved forward.

The wind blew through the empty streets, carrying with it the smell of burning rubber and something else—something rotten, like decay.

My thoughts drifted, and despite everything, I couldn't shake the memory of my mother. The last time I saw her, before the infection took her away. She had been so strong, always fighting, even when the sickness had started to break her body down. But that last night… I could still hear the way her voice trembled when she called me, telling me that she'd been taken to the facility, that it wasn't what it seemed. I should have done more. I should have fought harder.

The guilt gnawed at me, a constant ache that never quite went away. I hadn't just lost her—I had let her down.

"Liberty?" Apollo's voice broke through the fog of my thoughts. His hand rested gently on my shoulder. "You okay?"

I blinked, pushing the memories aside, and nodded quickly. "Yeah… I'm fine."

But I wasn't. Not really. The truth was, I couldn't stop thinking about her. Couldn't stop wondering if she had known how bad it was, if she had realized what they were doing to her before it was too late. And now, everywhere I looked, I saw the infected—their faces twisted, their eyes empty—and I wondered if she had ended up like that. Like them.

"Let's keep moving," Zeke urged, glancing up at the darkening sky. "We're almost there."

We followed him through a narrow alley that reeked of smoke and trash. The shadows here were thicker, the buildings taller, looming over us like silent sentinels. I could feel the weight of the city pressing down, like it was closing in on us. Every nerve in my body was on edge.

And then I heard it.

A faint scraping sound, like nails dragging against concrete.

I froze, holding up a hand to stop the others. The sound grew louder, closer, until it was unmistakable—someone, or something, was moving toward us. Slow at first, then faster.

"Get down," I whispered, motioning for everyone to hide behind a stack of old crates.

We crouched low, barely breathing, as the sound approached. The infected came into view—a woman, or what used to be a woman. Her clothes hung off her in tatters, her hair matted and filthy. She moved with jerking, unnatural motions, her body twitching with every step. But what terrified me the most was her face—her eyes were wide and blank, her mouth hanging open in a silent scream.

She dragged her feet, scraping her shoes against the ground as she passed by, oblivious to our presence. I could see the faint traces of blood smeared across her lips, and a deep, raw wound on her arm. I held my breath, praying she wouldn't notice us.

But then, as if sensing something, she stopped. Her head jerked to the side, and she sniffed the air like an animal. My heart pounded in my chest, each beat echoing in my ears. I could feel the sweat dripping down the back of my neck, my muscles tense and ready to run.

Apollo reached for my hand, squeezing it gently. I glanced at him, and for a brief moment, the chaos around us faded. He gave me a small, reassuring nod, his grip firm and steady, grounding me.

The infected woman let out a low, guttural moan, her head twitching as she took a step closer to our hiding spot.

I swallowed hard, my hand tightening around Apollo's. We couldn't fight her—not without attracting more. All we could do was wait.

The moment stretched on, each second feeling like an eternity. Finally, after what felt like hours, the infected woman stumbled forward, her attention diverted by something else down the alley. She disappeared into the shadows, her footsteps fading into the distance.

We waited a few more moments before Zeke gave the all-clear. Slowly, we emerged from our hiding spot, the tension still thick in the air.

"That was too close," Lylia muttered, wiping the sweat from her brow.

"Yeah," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "Too close."

But even as we continued moving, I couldn't shake the image of that woman's face, the blank emptiness in her eyes. It was the same look I had seen in so many of the infected—the same look I feared my mother had worn in her final moments.

"She wouldn't have wanted this," I murmured, mostly to myself.

Apollo glanced at me. "Your mom?"

I nodded, my throat tight. "She fought so hard. Even when she was sick, she never gave up. But… in the end, I don't think she knew what was happening. I should've been there. I should've—"

"You did everything you could," Apollo said softly, his voice gentle. "Don't blame yourself for what they did."

I bit my lip, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill. "I just… I don't want to lose anyone else."

"You won't," he said, his hand resting on my shoulder. "We're going to stop this. Together."

I nodded, swallowing the lump in my throat. I wasn't alone. Not anymore. And I couldn't afford to fall apart now—not when there was still so much at stake.

We kept moving, the weight of the past still heavy on my shoulders, but I pushed it aside. There would be time to grieve later. Right now, we had to survive.

As we approached the next intersection, Zeke stopped, pulling out his tablet and scanning the area. "There's a medical facility up ahead," he said. "Might be worth checking out. Could have some supplies, maybe even some answers."

Apollo frowned. "Do you think it's safe?"

Zeke shrugged. "Only one way to find out."

We made our way toward the facility, the air growing colder as night began to fall. The building loomed ahead of us, its windows dark and foreboding. As we reached the entrance, I felt a chill run down my spine. Something wasn't right.

"Stay close," I whispered, pushing open the door.

Inside, the air was thick with the stench of antiseptic and decay. The walls were lined with broken medical equipment, and the floor was littered with papers and debris. It was clear that the place had been abandoned in a hurry.

But it wasn't empty.

As we moved deeper into the facility, I heard it again—that low, rasping breath. My heart pounded as I glanced around, searching for the source.

And then I saw them.

Dozens of them.

The infected were lying in the beds, their bodies twitching and jerking as they struggled against the restraints. Their eyes were wide, their mouths open in silent screams. Some of them were covered in fresh wounds, others in various stages of decay.

I backed away slowly, my stomach turning.

"This is what they did," I whispered, my voice shaking. "This is what they turned them into."

Apollo stood beside me, his face pale. "We need to get out of here. Now."

Zeke didn't argue. We turned and ran, the sounds of the infected growing louder behind us as we raced through the halls, their growls echoing in the darkness.

We burst through the doors, gasping for breath as we stumbled back into the night. The infected were still inside, but we couldn't risk staying any longer.

As we stood there, catching our breath, I couldn't help but think of my mother again. This was what they had been trying to do to her, what they had done to so many others. I wouldn't let it happen again. I couldn't.

"We need to keep moving," I said, my voice firm. "We need to stop this. For her. For everyone."

Apollo nodded, his hand resting on my shoulder. "We will."

And for the first time, I believed it.