The Aftermath

The night air was sharp and cold, cutting through the silence as we stood outside the collapsed research center. The wreckage still smoldered, the flames flickering weakly, as if reluctant to die out. We had won a battle, but not the war.

Apollo leaned against me, his breathing steady but shallow. The serum was holding, for now, but the haunted look in his eyes told me how close we had come to losing him. His recovery was temporary.

Lecroix scanned the horizon, his expression unreadable. Steph kept her rifle slung over her shoulder, her stance relaxed but her eyes sharp, always watching. Zeke was already crouched near his tablet, fingers flying over the keys, trying to make sense of whatever we had just unleashed.

"They'll be on us soon," Lecroix muttered, glancing back at me. "The government's not going to let this go."

Mara exhaled, folding her arms across her chest. "We bought time, but that's all it is. They'll spin the narrative, and we'll be the ones on every wanted list."

Zeke's screen flashed, and his face twisted into a grimace. "Guess what? We're already front-page news."

He turned the tablet toward us. A breaking news bulletin filled the screen, casting us as terrorists who had destroyed a 'government recovery facility.' The anchors spoke in calm, rehearsed tones, painting us as the threat, warning survivors to report sightings to the nearest military checkpoint.

"Fantastic," Zeke muttered. "Now we're officially the villains."

"They're controlling the narrative," Mara said bitterly. "Just like they always do."

Apollo stirred beside me, his voice weak but clear. "What now?"

"We find somewhere safe," I whispered, though the words felt hollow. Nowhere felt safe anymore.

Steph stepped forward, arms relaxed but gaze intense. "There's a place." She glanced between us. "A camp. Refugees, exiles... people the government threw away. They won't trust us right away, but they might take us in."

Mara nodded in agreement. "It's hidden deep, far enough that even the military doesn't bother with it."

I glanced at Lecroix, and he gave a small nod—a silent agreement. It was our best chance.

We gathered what little we had and began moving toward the edge of the city ruins, careful to avoid open streets and patrol routes. The night was quiet, but the tension lingered.

As we moved deeper into the dark, Apollo leaned heavily on Lecroix. I stayed close to them, my heart pounding with every step.

"I can make it," Apollo muttered, though his body said otherwise. His skin was pale, and every breath seemed like a struggle.

"You don't have to prove anything," I whispered, brushing my hand against his. "Just stay with us."

Zeke kept glancing over his shoulder, his paranoia bleeding into every movement. "This camp—how do we know it's real?"

Steph shot him a grin, her brown eyes gleaming in the moonlight. "Guess you'll just have to trust me."

"That's reassuring," Zeke muttered, shifting his grip on his bag.

We moved in silence, the city fading behind us as the wilderness began to swallow the ruins. Broken roads gave way to overgrown paths, and the air smelled of damp earth and pine.

"It's not far," Steph whispered, leading us deeper into the forest. The darkness felt alive, pressing against us from all sides.

We reached a narrow ravine, and Steph motioned for us to stop.

"Wait here," she said quietly. "I need to signal the camp." She moved ahead, disappearing into the shadows like she belonged there.

Lecroix leaned against a tree, keeping a steady hold on Apollo. "This better not be another trap."

"It's not," I whispered, though I wasn't sure who I was trying to convince—Lecroix or myself.

Minutes passed in tense silence until Steph returned, a small grin on her face. "We're in."

She led us deeper into the ravine, and soon we saw it—a hidden camp nestled among the trees, barely visible from the outside. Fires flickered dimly between makeshift tents, and weary figures moved silently through the camp, their eyes dull with exhaustion and suspicion.

"Welcome to the edge of nowhere," Steph whispered.

The camp leader, a man named Elias, greeted us with a wary nod. His eyes were sharp, measuring each of us in a glance.

"We don't take kindly to strangers," he said. "But if Steph vouches for you, you can stay—for now."

As we settled into the camp, the weight of the past few days pressed down on me. We had made it out of the research center, but the fight was far from over.

"We'll figure this out," Lecroix murmured beside me, his hand brushing against mine. "One step at a time."

I nodded, though my heart still felt heavy. The government was closing in, Apollo's recovery was uncertain, and the infection wasn't done with us yet.

We had found a brief moment of safety, but the storm was still on the horizon. And when it came, we'd need to be ready.