Fragile Cure

Apollo's weight dragged between me and Lecroix as we stumbled through the narrow tunnels. His fever was rising fast, his breathing shallow and labored. I could feel his life slipping away with each passing second, and the thought of losing him twisted painfully inside me.

"We're close," Lecroix said, his voice steady despite the urgency pressing down on all of us.

The air was dense with moisture, and the tunnel walls dripped with condensation. Zeke's flashlight beam cut through the dark, revealing a heavy steel door ahead—marked with the faded logo of the Echo Protocol project.

"This has to be it," Zeke muttered, sprinting ahead to pry the door open. It groaned as it swung wide, revealing the remnants of a sterile laboratory.

The room was eerily intact, untouched by the chaos above. Medical equipment, syringes, and computers lay scattered on countertops, covered in dust but otherwise functional. And in the far corner, a refrigerated storage unit hummed softly—still powered, still holding whatever secrets the government had left behind.

Lecroix moved quickly, guiding Apollo to a nearby cot and easing him down. He looked bad—pale, sweat-soaked, barely conscious.

"Stay with me, Apollo," I whispered, brushing the hair back from his forehead. His skin was burning, and the infection was spreading faster than we'd anticipated.

Lecroix crossed to the storage unit, his movements quick and precise. He knew exactly what he was looking for.

"Here," Lecroix called, pulling out a case of vials filled with a faintly glowing serum. "This is it—early-stage treatments meant to halt the infection."

I felt a flicker of hope ignite in my chest. This was what we'd been racing for—a chance, however small, to save Apollo.

Lecroix knelt beside the cot, holding up one of the vials. "It's experimental. There's no guarantee it'll work," he said softly, looking at me with a seriousness that made my breath catch. "It could slow the infection... or make things worse."

"There's no choice," I whispered, meeting his gaze. "We do it. Now."

Lecroix nodded, his expression grim but focused. He readied a syringe, drawing the serum from the vial. "We need to inject it directly into his bloodstream," he explained. "It's fast-acting—if it's going to help, we'll know soon."

I held Apollo's arm steady, biting down on my fear as Lecroix slid the needle into his vein. The serum flowed in, pale blue against the dark red of his blood.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then Apollo's body convulsed, his back arching off the cot as if the serum had set fire to his veins. His eyes flew open, wide with pain, and he gasped for air, choking on the fever burning through him.

"Hold him!" Lecroix shouted, his voice sharp with urgency.

I grabbed Apollo's shoulders, holding him down as his body trembled violently beneath my hands. The infection was fighting back, clinging to him with everything it had.

"It's working," Lecroix muttered, watching the readings from a nearby monitor. "His vitals are stabilizing."

Apollo's shaking began to ease, his breathing evening out little by little. The fever in his skin started to cool, and the wild look in his eyes faded, replaced by something clearer—lucidity.

"Lib..." Apollo whispered, his voice hoarse but recognizable.

I exhaled a breath I hadn't realized I was holding, tears stinging my eyes. He was back.

"You're going to be okay," I whispered, brushing a hand over his cheek. "We got you."

Lecroix pulled back, his expression a mixture of relief and exhaustion. "The serum bought us time," he said, though the caution in his voice was unmistakable. "But we're not out of the woods yet."

"What do you mean?" I asked, my heart still pounding.

"This is just a temporary fix," Lecroix explained. "The serum can slow the infection, but it won't stop it. We need to find a way to complete the treatment before the infection rebounds."

I nodded, determination solidifying in my chest. We had a chance now—a chance Apollo hadn't had before. And I wasn't going to waste it.

Zeke paced near the entrance, glancing nervously down the tunnel. "We need to move soon," he muttered. "Those things aren't going to stay out forever."

"Give him a few minutes to rest," Lecroix said. "Then we get out of here."

Apollo gave a weak smile, squeezing my hand. "Still dragging me around, huh?"

I laughed softly, feeling a weight lift from my chest. "I guess I'm just stubborn like that."

We stayed in the lab a little longer, just long enough for Apollo to regain his strength. The serum had bought us a fragile hope—enough to keep moving, enough to keep fighting.

And as we prepared to leave, Lecroix's hand brushed against mine again, grounding me in a way I hadn't felt in a long time. We weren't running anymore. Now, we had a plan.

Apollo was alive, and we had a second chance to set things right.