The Weight of the Truth

The night air was thick and heavy, clinging to my skin like a second layer. We hadn't said much since we left the medical facility, each of us lost in our own thoughts, weighed down by the horrors we'd just witnessed. The streets were quieter now, but that didn't bring any comfort. The infected were out there—waiting, lurking in the shadows—and every corner we turned felt like a gamble.

Zeke had fallen into his usual rhythm, fingers flying across his tablet, scanning for signals or military transmissions that might warn us of approaching danger. His face was lit by the glow of the screen, casting sharp shadows across his features, but even his usual smirk had faded. There was nothing to joke about anymore.

We found shelter in a half-collapsed building on the edge of the city, its once-shiny glass facade cracked and broken, giving it a jagged, skeletal look. The building had probably been some kind of office tower before everything fell apart, but now it was just another forgotten relic in a world that was quickly unraveling.

Inside, the air was stale, and dust clung to every surface. We set up camp on the second floor, hidden away from the open streets below. Apollo and Lylia settled near a cluster of overturned desks, while Zeke remained focused on his screen, his brow furrowed in concentration.

I leaned against the wall, feeling the rough texture of crumbling plaster under my palm, and took a deep breath. My chest still felt tight, like the weight of everything we'd seen and learned was pressing down on me. The infected... the way they moved, the way they stared, as if something inside them had died long before their bodies gave up. It was haunting. And it wasn't over.

"We need to talk about what's next," Apollo said, breaking the silence. His voice was steady, but there was an edge to it—a weariness that hadn't been there before.

Lylia nodded, glancing at me. "The infection is spreading faster than we thought. We've seen what it's doing to people, how they're changing. But there's more to this, Liberty. We need to figure out who we can trust to help us get this information out."

I swallowed hard, my mind racing. "If we don't act soon, it might be too late."

Zeke glanced up from his screen, his expression grim. "It's already worse than we thought. The military's been sending out coded transmissions—something about containment zones and full lockdowns in other cities. This infection... it's not just here. It's global. And they're losing control."

His words hung in the air, thick with dread. The infection was spreading, faster than any of us had anticipated, and the government wasn't just failing to contain it—they were actively covering it up. They didn't want anyone to know how bad things had really gotten.

I sat down beside Zeke, staring at the faint glow of the city lights through the cracked windows. "We need to release the files. All of them. People deserve to know the truth."

"But how?" Lylia asked, her voice tinged with frustration. "The military's tracking every signal, every connection. If we make a move without a plan, they'll find us before we even get a chance to upload the data."

Zeke tapped his tablet thoughtfully. "We could set up a remote broadcast, maybe use some of the dark web channels. But it's risky. If they trace it back to us..."

"They'll come for us," Apollo finished, his tone grim. "And they won't stop until we're silenced."

The room fell silent, the weight of the situation pressing down on us. We were walking a thin line, and every decision felt like it could be our last. But we didn't have a choice. The world was crumbling around us, and if we didn't act soon, there would be nothing left to save.

As the conversation shifted into planning, my thoughts drifted again—to my mother. The infection that had taken her, the secrecy surrounding her disappearance, the way the government had whisked her away, like she was just another experiment. I couldn't shake the guilt that gnawed at me, the constant whisper that maybe, if I had done more, if I had fought harder, she might still be here.

I closed my eyes, letting the memories flood back. The last time I'd seen her, she had been sitting at the kitchen table, her hands trembling as she held a mug of tea. She'd been so strong, even then, always putting on a brave face for me. But I had seen the fear in her eyes, the way she looked at me as if she knew her time was running out.

"I don't want to be a burden," she had whispered, her voice barely audible.

"You're not," I'd told her, reaching across the table to take her hand. "We're going to figure this out. We'll get you better."

But I hadn't figured it out. I hadn't saved her. And now, everywhere I looked, I saw the infected—their faces twisted, their bodies broken. Was that what had happened to her? 

I blinked away the tears, forcing myself to focus. There wasn't time for this. I couldn't change the past, but I could stop this infection from taking more people—more families, more mothers.

Apollo must have sensed something, because he sat down beside me, his presence grounding me in the moment. "You don't have to carry this alone," he said softly.

I swallowed hard, staring at the floor. "I feel like I failed her, Apollo. I should've done more."

He placed a hand on my shoulder, his touch gentle. "You didn't fail her. This isn't your fault. And right now, we have a chance to make sure no one else has to go through what you did."

I nodded, grateful for his support, but the ache in my chest remained. The weight of it was crushing, but I couldn't let it break me. Not now.

Zeke's voice cut through the silence, pulling us back to the present. "I think I've got something," he said, his eyes lighting up with a mix of excitement and nervous energy. "There's an old radio tower a few miles from here. If we can get to it, I can tap into the signal and send out the files without being traced."

Lylia frowned. "A few miles? That's a long way with the infected roaming around."

"I know," Zeke replied, his expression serious. "But it's our best shot. We can't just sit here and wait for them to find us. If we don't get the information out, no one will know the truth. And then what?"

He was right. We couldn't afford to wait any longer.

"We'll make it work," I said, standing up. "We don't have a choice."

Just as we started gathering our things, preparing for the journey to the tower, there was a sudden, sharp sound from outside—footsteps, quick and heavy. I froze, my heart hammering in my chest.

"Get down," Zeke hissed, pulling us toward the far corner of the room. We crouched behind an overturned desk, the tension thick in the air.

The footsteps grew louder, and then, through the cracked window, I saw them—soldiers. At least three, moving in formation, their guns raised. They were searching for something—or someone.

"They've found us," Apollo whispered, his jaw clenched.

I felt the blood drain from my face. We couldn't stay here. If they caught us, it was over.

Zeke glanced at me, his eyes wide. "We need to move. Now."

We slipped out the back of the building, moving as quickly and quietly as we could. The streets were dark, but I could feel the soldiers closing in, their footsteps growing fainter behind us but never disappearing completely.

We had to reach the tower. It was our only chance.

As we hurried through the alleyways, the tension between us thickened. We were racing against time, against the infected, against the government that wanted to silence us. But we had something they didn't—the truth. And no matter how dangerous it was, no matter how high the stakes, we were going to expose it.

No matter what.