The Escape

The infected were close. I could feel them before I heard them, like a growing pulse in the air, their violent energy spreading through the factory. The air was thick, almost suffocating, as the first growls echoed from the dark corridors behind us. The rusted metal walls vibrated with the approaching swarm, their snarls growing louder, more ravenous.

"Move!" Zeke's voice was sharp, cutting through the tension like a knife.

We didn't need to be told twice. Apollo bolted ahead, Zeke hot on his heels as we plunged deeper into the maze of the industrial zone. My legs burned as I pushed myself to keep pace, the infected just behind us, their heavy footsteps crashing like thunder against the crumbling floor.

The factory was a labyrinth of rusted beams and fallen debris, the air heavy with dust. The only light came from the fading daylight filtering through the broken windows, casting long, twisted shadows across the walls. But in the corners of my vision, I could see them—the infected—moving like predators, faster than I remembered, more coordinated than I'd seen before.

"This way!" Zeke called, pointing toward a narrow hallway ahead.

We sprinted toward the door, our footsteps slapping against the cold concrete floor. I felt the pull of dread in my chest, my mind still racing from Dr. Hawke's words. I was a catalyst. The next step in the evolution of the infection.

My lungs burned, but I couldn't stop running. The infected were on us, their snarls so close now that I could feel their breath on the back of my neck. My heart pounded with the same frantic rhythm as my feet, fear pushing me forward. But something else was growing inside me too—a spark. A sense of... power. My hands tingled, my muscles thrumming with an energy I didn't recognize.

Zeke threw himself against the door at the end of the hall, shoving it open just as the infected rounded the corner. They were fast—faster than I had ever seen—tearing across the room with a speed that made my stomach twist.

"Get in!" Apollo shouted, grabbing my arm and pulling me through the door just as Zeke slammed it shut behind us.

The door rattled under the weight of the infected slamming against it, their growls reverberating through the metal like a war drum. The barrier wouldn't hold for long. I leaned against the wall, my chest heaving, trying to catch my breath, but the weight of everything was pressing down on me. Hawke's words echoed in my mind, turning over and over again like a sickness.

I wasn't just a victim of the infection. I was part of it.

"We can't stay here," Zeke muttered, his eyes darting around the room. "They'll break through soon."

"There's a tunnel system beneath the factory," Apollo said, still gripping my arm, his voice low and urgent. "It's our only way out."

Zeke's tablet beeped, the faint glow of the screen reflecting in his eyes. "This way," he said, already moving toward a rusted door at the back of the room. "It'll lead us underground."

I tried to pull myself together, to push the flood of thoughts out of my mind. But it was hard—so hard—to focus when all I could think about was the infection inside me, waiting, just like Hawke had said.

"Liberty." Apollo's voice pulled me back, and I looked up at him, his eyes searching mine. "We'll figure this out. But we need to move. Now."

I nodded, forcing my legs to move again, pushing through the suffocating fear. The infected were still slamming against the door, the metal groaning under their weight. We didn't have much time.

The tunnel below the factory was dark, damp, the air thick with the smell of mildew and decay. We moved quickly, Zeke leading the way with his tablet, the dim light from the screen casting eerie shadows along the walls. My footsteps echoed in the narrow space, each one a reminder that we weren't safe yet.

The infected were evolving. Faster, smarter—and I was linked to them. The thought sent a cold shiver down my spine, but I couldn't dwell on it. Not here. Not now.

As we moved deeper into the tunnel, the sound of our breathing filled the silence, a steady, rhythmic pulse that kept us grounded. But something was gnawing at me, a feeling that we weren't alone down here.

Apollo kept close, his presence a steady force beside me. But Zeke's eyes kept flicking back to me, the unease in his gaze more noticeable now. I knew what he was thinking—that I was part of the problem. That I wasn't just Liberty anymore, but something... dangerous.

My chest tightened at the thought, and I pushed it down, focusing on moving forward, on surviving the moment.

Suddenly, the tunnel widened into a larger room, the walls slick with water, the air cold and damp. I could hear the faint sound of dripping in the distance, the tunnel stretching ahead into darkness.

"This is it," Zeke said, his voice quiet. "We can follow this tunnel to the outskirts of the city."

Before he could take another step, a sound stopped us all. It was different from the infected—a slow, deliberate shuffle, echoing through the chamber.

We froze, our eyes scanning the shadows. And then, out of the darkness, a figure emerged.

He moved with a calculated ease, his tall frame casting a long shadow across the tunnel floor. His face was partially hidden beneath a hood, but when he stepped into the dim light of Zeke's tablet, his piercing green eyes locked onto mine.

"You must be Liberty Crox," he said, his voice smooth and calm, completely out of place in this chaotic world.

Zeke tensed, stepping forward. "Who are you?"

The man smiled, his gaze still fixed on me. "Lecroix," he said, his voice low and rich, sending an unexpected warmth through my chest. "I've been looking for you."

Apollo stepped forward, his posture stiff, protective. "What do you want?"

Lecroix's gaze shifted to Apollo for only a second before returning to me. "I want to help."

His words were simple, but they carried a weight that made me pause. There was something about him—something I couldn't quite place—that felt... familiar. He wasn't like the others. He wasn't part of the government, and he wasn't infected. He was something else entirely.

"Help with what?" I asked, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside me.

Lecroix smiled again, this time more gently. "With everything. Phase Two. The infection. Your role in it."

I stared at him, my pulse quickening. How did he know? How could he know?

Before I could respond, the tunnel shook with the sound of the infected behind us. Lecroix's expression hardened. "We don't have time for introductions," he said, moving toward the tunnel's exit. "If you want to survive, follow me."

Apollo hesitated, his eyes narrowing, but Zeke nodded. "We don't have a choice."

We followed Lecroix through the tunnel, his movements swift and sure, leading us deeper into the underground labyrinth. My mind raced, trying to process everything—who this man was, what he wanted, and why he seemed to know more about me than I did.

But one thing was clear: Lecroix wasn't just here by accident. He was here for me.

And as we moved through the darkness, I couldn't shake the feeling that my fate was somehow tied to his.