Echoes of the Past

The air outside was thick with tension, the kind that settles before something terrible happens. The abandoned warehouse stood like a monument to a forgotten world, its crumbling walls a reminder of everything we'd lost. But the real weight of the moment wasn't in the atmosphere—it was in the choices we had to make next.

Zeke was exhausted, his body slumped against a wall, still clutching his tablet as if it were his only lifeline. Apollo sat nearby, silent, watching me with those familiar, intense eyes. But it was the silence between us that gnawed at me, pressing against my chest.

For the first time in a while, I felt... alone.

Lylia's absence was a fresh wound, but more than that, her betrayal had shaken the core of what I believed about our mission. What was this all for, if those closest to me were being peeled away, one by one? What good was the truth if it cost us everything?

But we couldn't stop now. We were too far in. I couldn't stop now.

"We can't wait here any longer," Zeke said suddenly, breaking the silence. His voice was raspy, the product of too little sleep and too much adrenaline. "The longer we stay, the higher the chance they'll track us again. We need to move."

I didn't argue. He was right. The government was relentless, and Lylia had given them everything they needed to close in on us.

But where could we go? What could we do next?

"We need to head deeper into the city," Zeke continued. "There's an old district, near the central hub. It's been abandoned since the early stages of the outbreak, but I've been monitoring it. There's something there we need to check out."

Apollo frowned, standing up. "And what exactly is that?"

Zeke hesitated, a rare crack in his usual confidence. "I found traces of... data. Unusual transmissions. They're old, encrypted, and they don't match the typical government or military signatures. They're coming from someone else. Something else."

"Could it be another faction?" I asked, my mind racing. There had been rumors of other groups, underground resistance cells that operated outside of the government's reach. Could this be our chance to finally connect with them?

"Maybe," Zeke said, his voice uncertain. "Or it could be something worse. I don't know yet. But it's big, whatever it is."

The idea of chasing another unknown felt dangerous—almost reckless. But what choice did we have? Staying in the warehouse wasn't an option, and heading deeper into the city might be the only way to buy us some time.

"Let's check it out," I said, my decision made. "We can't stay here waiting for them to hunt us down. We need to stay ahead of them."

Apollo looked uneasy but nodded. "Fine. But we need to be ready for anything. The central hub is crawling with infected. We might be heading straight into their territory."

I swallowed hard. The infected—their mutated forms, their intelligence—had been haunting me since we first encountered them. But the idea of them evolving further, of them becoming something more dangerous... that fear settled deep in my gut.

Zeke pushed himself to his feet, gathering his things. "Let's get moving, then. I've uploaded the map. We'll take the back streets and avoid the patrol zones."

We stepped out into the twilight, the sky a murky blend of grays as the city loomed ahead of us. It had once been alive—thriving, buzzing with people. Now, it was a ghost of its former self. Streets littered with debris, crumbling buildings, and an eerie quiet that made my skin crawl.

As we made our way toward the central hub, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching us. My eyes scanned the windows of the abandoned buildings, half-expecting to see a figure, or worse—one of the infected. But there was nothing. Only the echoes of our footsteps in the distance.

Half an hour in, we came to a street where the ground was covered in ash, as though a fire had consumed everything but the bones of the buildings. Apollo knelt down, brushing the ash with his fingertips.

"Firebombed," he said quietly. "Probably an early attempt to contain the outbreak. Didn't do much good."

Zeke tapped at his tablet, eyes scanning the area. "We're close. The signal is coming from somewhere just up ahead. There's a building on the edge of the district. It's not far."

I nodded, but my gut twisted. There was something wrong about this place. It felt... too quiet. Too empty. And I couldn't shake the feeling that we were being lured into a trap.

We moved cautiously, weaving between the ruins, every step echoing through the hollow remains of the city. Zeke's pace quickened as we neared the edge of the district, his tablet lighting up with activity. "We're here," he said, his voice a whisper.

The building stood before us—a relic of the old world, its facade crumbling but still holding its shape. There were no lights, no movement. Just the silence of a place long abandoned.

Zeke motioned toward the door, and we stepped inside.

The air was thick with dust, and the floorboards creaked under our weight. The room we entered was sparse—just a few scattered chairs and broken furniture. But the further we ventured, the more unsettling it became. Papers littered the floor, old, forgotten files. A series of monitors lined the far wall, covered in dust but still functional. The entire room reeked of abandonment, but there was something else—a presence.

And then I saw it.

A file, its edges worn, sitting on the desk in the center of the room. I picked it up, dust falling from the cover. The words printed on it sent a chill down my spine:

"Project Echo: Classified – Liberty Crox"

My hands trembled. This wasn't just any abandoned building. This place held records—about me. About my family.

Apollo moved to my side, his eyes narrowing as he read the title. "What the hell is this?"

Zeke had already moved to the monitors, his fingers flying over the keys as he accessed the system. "Liberty... this place was tracking you. Everything you've done. Everything since your mother... since the outbreak."

I flipped the file open, my breath catching as I scanned the contents. Dates, locations, medical records—every detail of my life carefully documented, as if someone had been monitoring me for years.

"This isn't possible," I whispered. "How could they have this?"

Zeke's voice was grim. "They were watching you long before we even knew it. This project—it's bigger than just the outbreak. This was personal."

I stared down at the file, my heart racing. What had they been doing? What did this all mean?

Apollo stepped closer, his voice soft but firm. "Liberty, we need to get out of here. Now. Whatever this place is, it's not safe."

I nodded, but my mind was spinning. Project Echo. The name haunted me, sending waves of fear crashing through my thoughts.

What had they done to my family? And how long had I been a part of this without even knowing?