Broadcast of Truth

We had been hiding for two days.

After the last military altercation, we found a place to rest—a small, abandoned grocery store with its windows shattered and aisles covered in dust. For two full days, we hunkered down, watching the streets, waiting for the military to move on. The tension from before still weighed heavy, but it was enough time for us to catch our breath.

Zeke had barely slept during that time, tinkering with his equipment, ensuring everything would work for the broadcast. Apollo, ever the protector, kept watch while Lylia and I planned for what would come next. The truth weighed on all of us. We had come too far to fail now.

The infected were quieter these past two days. We could hear them in the distance, their groans and shuffling never too far away, but they didn't come near us. I wasn't sure if that was a good sign or not. I had no doubt they were out there, lurking in the shadows, waiting for the right moment to strike.

But today was different. Today, we would finally reach the radio tower. It had been Zeke's idea, and now that the military had moved on, it seemed like the perfect time to execute the plan. The tower was old, abandoned, standing like a forgotten relic on the outskirts of the city. The roads leading there were littered with debris, but we moved swiftly, sticking to the alleyways, avoiding any areas where we might be seen.

"We're close," Zeke whispered, glancing at the GPS on his tablet. "Another block or two."

The tower loomed ahead, silhouetted against the gray sky. It was taller than I expected, its once-sleek metal structure now rusted and weathered by years of neglect. It looked like something out of a post-apocalyptic movie, standing alone amid the ruins of the city. But for us, it was hope.

"This better work," Lylia muttered, her voice barely audible as we neared the base of the tower. Her eyes darted around, scanning the empty streets, as if she was expecting something—someone—to jump out at any moment.

"It'll work," Zeke said confidently, his fingers tapping at the screen of his tablet. "I've got everything ready. Once we're inside, I can piggyback off the old systems and broadcast the files. It'll take time, but we'll get the signal out."

The tower's entrance was blocked by a rusted gate, the lock long since broken. Apollo pushed it open, the metal creaking loudly in the stillness, and we slipped inside. The air smelled of dust and old machinery, and the interior was cold, a stark contrast to the muggy air outside.

The inside of the tower was a labyrinth of stairs, wires, and broken equipment. As we climbed, the sound of our footsteps echoed in the narrow space, making me feel like we were announcing our presence to anyone—or anything—outside. Zeke led the way, his tablet lighting the path ahead of him, while Apollo kept a sharp eye behind us.

When we reached the control room near the top of the tower, Zeke immediately went to work, setting up his laptop and connecting it to the old equipment. The room was cramped, with walls lined with outdated machines, most of them covered in a layer of dust so thick that I doubted anyone had been here in years. Broken windows let in a cold breeze, making the air inside feel heavier than it should.

"We're good to go," Zeke said after a few minutes, a grin spreading across his face. "Give me about five minutes to get the files uploaded and broadcasted."

I stood by the window, my heart pounding as I looked out over the city. From up here, the ruins stretched as far as the eye could see, a sea of broken buildings and twisted metal. The silence was unnerving, but it wouldn't last.

Apollo came to stand beside me, his presence steady as always. "You ready for this?" he asked, his voice soft.

I nodded. "We've come too far to back down now."

He gave me a small, reassuring smile, but there was tension in his eyes. He knew what was at stake. We all did.

Zeke's fingers flew over the keyboard, the hum of the old equipment coming to life around us. "I'm sending the files to a dozen different sites," he said, glancing up from his screen. "Dark web forums, whistleblower platforms—places where people will see it. They won't be able to ignore this."

As he spoke, the air inside the tower shifted, the tension rising. Lylia stood by the door, her arms crossed tightly over her chest, her eyes darting between us and the hallway. Something was off.

"Lylia, you okay?" I asked, frowning.

She hesitated, her brow furrowing as if she was trying to make a decision. But before she could respond, a sound from below echoed through the tower.

Footsteps.

Heavy, deliberate footsteps.

"They found us," Apollo muttered, moving to stand in front of the door.

But it wasn't just the military.

The growls came next, low and guttural, vibrating through the metal walls of the tower. A shiver ran down my spine as I recognized the sound—the infected.

I stepped forward, my eyes widening as I peered down the narrow stairwell. Shadows flickered along the walls, distorted by the broken light, and then I saw them—military soldiers, weapons raised, moving up the stairs in formation. Behind them, the infected followed, their twisted forms barely visible in the dim light. But something was different. One of them moved slower, heavier than the others, its body hulking, larger than anything I'd seen before.

"What the hell is that?" I whispered, my voice barely audible as I stepped back.

The creature emerged from the shadows—a grotesque, mutated form that towered over the other infected. Its muscles bulged unnaturally, its skin mottled and stretched across its massive frame. Its eyes were wide, bloodshot, but there was something in them—something almost intelligent.

It let out a deep, guttural roar that shook the walls of the tower.

Zeke's face paled as he stared at the screen. "I need more time," he muttered, his voice strained. "Just a little more time."

The soldiers below had stopped moving. I watched in horror as the infected launched themselves at the military. The soldiers fired, but it wasn't enough. The infected tore into them, ripping through their armor with unnatural strength. Screams echoed through the tower as the soldiers were overwhelmed, their bodies collapsing under the weight of the infected's brutal attack.

The hulking creature moved slowly, methodically, its eyes scanning the stairwell as if it were looking for something—or someone.

"We need to get out of here," Lylia said, her voice shaking. "Now."

But Zeke wasn't finished. The progress bar on his laptop was only halfway complete, the files still uploading. "I can't stop now," he said, his hands trembling. "If I stop, everything we've done will be for nothing."

"We don't have time," Apollo snapped, his eyes fixed on the door as the sounds of the infected grew closer.

I stepped forward, my mind racing. We couldn't leave, not yet. We needed to finish the broadcast. But that thing... that thing was coming for us, and if it reached us, we wouldn't stand a chance.

The growls grew louder, and the floor vibrated under the weight of the creature's footsteps. It was coming.

"Zeke," I whispered, my heart pounding. "Hurry."

He nodded, his fingers moving faster than I'd ever seen as the upload ticked forward. 60%. 70%.

But the infected weren't waiting. I could hear them now, their heavy breathing and snarling just outside the door.

I clenched my fists, my eyes darting between Zeke and the door. We were running out of time. The truth was so close, but the monster was closer.

And in that moment, I realized—we might not all make it out of this alive.