Survivors

The air was still thick with the tension from our escape, and Apollo's breathing had grown more stable but still shallow. Lecroix sat beside me, his brow furrowed as he went over the information we'd pulled from the lab. We'd exposed the truth to the world, but now the clock was ticking. Sooner or later, the government would react—and it wouldn't be pretty.

Zeke's voice crackled through the stillness. "We've got company." His tone was low, his fingers tight on his weapon as he peered into the hallway through a cracked door.

Lecroix stiffened beside me. "Military?"

Zeke shook his head. "No. Looks... different."

I stood, my pulse quickening. We couldn't afford another fight—not with Apollo like this. The door swung open with a slow creak, and three figures stepped cautiously into the room.

They weren't dressed like soldiers. Their gear was mismatched, as if they'd scavenged it from wherever they could. The leader, a sharp-eyed woman with a scar tracing her jawline, raised her hands—palms open, in a gesture of peace.

"We're not here to fight," she said, her voice measured. "We came to talk."

Lecroix's hand hovered near his sidearm, and Zeke shifted uneasily beside him. I stepped forward, planting myself between them and Apollo. "Who are you?"

The woman gave a small nod, as if expecting the question. "We're like you. Survivors... but with more information than most." She studied each of us carefully before continuing. "We were part of the government's research program. Until we weren't."

My heart sank. Former scientists—people who knew exactly what we were up against.

"What do you want?" Lecroix asked, his voice hard.

"We want the same thing you do," the woman said. "We want to stop this infection."

I glanced back at Apollo, pale and unconscious on the cot. Her words sounded too good to be true.

"You knew this was going to happen," I said quietly. "You worked on it."

The woman's expression didn't waver. "Not all of us agreed with what they were doing. Some of us tried to stop it. We failed... but we're still here. And now we need your help."

Lecroix shifted beside me, tension radiating off him. "Why should we trust you?"

The woman smiled faintly. "Because we have something you need." She nodded toward Apollo. "I know what's happening to him. And I know how to help."

My stomach twisted. "What do you mean?"

She took a cautious step forward. "He's showing the early signs of genetic instability—one of the side effects of the experimental treatment." She looked between me and Lecroix. "If it's not stabilized soon, the infection will adapt. It'll spread through him, fast."

Lecroix's expression darkened. "And you just happen to have the answer?"

The woman gave a small, grim nod. "I worked on the project that developed his treatment. We didn't have time to perfect it, but I know how to finish what we started."

Zeke stepped forward, his hand still on his weapon. "What's the catch?"

The woman sighed. "The serum requires a final component—something volatile. Dangerous. And it's in a heavily secured government outpost."

Lecroix cursed under his breath. "Of course it is."

I felt the weight of the decision settling on my chest. Trust them, and we might have a way to save Apollo. Or refuse, and risk losing him—and everything else we'd fought for.

"How do we know you're not lying?" I asked, my voice low. "How do we know this isn't just another trap?"

The woman met my gaze, her expression steady. "You don't."

For a moment, the room was silent. I glanced at Lecroix, then at Zeke. Neither of them looked convinced.

But then Apollo stirred, his hand twitching weakly beside him. His time was running out.

"We don't have many options," Lecroix muttered, more to himself than to me.

I knelt beside Apollo, brushing his damp hair from his forehead. He needed us. And I couldn't let him down—not again.

I stood, turning back to the rogue scientists. "We'll go with you."

Zeke tensed, and Lecroix shot me a sharp look. "Lib—"

"We don't have a choice," I said, cutting him off. "If they can help Apollo, we have to try."

The woman gave a small nod, as if she'd expected my answer. "You're making the right call."

I wasn't sure I believed her. But for Apollo, I was willing to take the risk.

Lecroix's hand brushed briefly against mine—a silent promise that he would stand with me, no matter what.

The woman motioned toward the door. "We leave now. Time is short."

We gathered our gear in silence, the weight of the decision heavy on all of us. Trusting them could save Apollo—or doom us all.

And as we stepped into the dim corridor, the air felt heavier with the promise of what was to come.