The Train Station

Dr. Adrian Hayes's gaze locked onto Zoe's pale, motionless face, his heart pounding as he tried to focus. The images of blood-soaked concrete and lifeless eyes flashed in his mind like a cruel, repetitive nightmare. The train ride to Perkatory had been a blur of terror and guilt—two nurses slaughtered in the chaos at the platform, their screams still ringing in his ears. And now, as he stood beside Zoe, the weight of it all bore down on him.

"Adrian?" Matthew's voice was low but steady, a lifeline in the storm of Adrian's thoughts.

The man's face was bruised, his shirt torn, and blood spattered across his arms from his desperate fight with the glowing zombie. Yet his eyes burned with determination. "We need you. She needs you. Focus."

Adrian nodded mechanically, though his thoughts were far from steady. He'd seen death too many times to count, but losing the nurses—and almost losing Matthew in the process—was a different kind of pain. He'd promised himself he wouldn't fail again, but the fear of repeating that failure gnawed at his resolve.

He exhaled slowly, forcing himself to meet Zoe's gaze. Her face was pale, framed by matted strands of dark hair. The wound on her side was bound with crude bandages, but blood still seeped through, staining her clothes and the cot beneath her. Her breathing was shallow, her chest barely rising and falling.

"She's slipping," Dr. Torres said from the corner of the room, her voice taut with worry. Her hands were clenched together, her knuckles white. "You have to do something. Now."

Adrian swallowed hard, shaking his head to dispel the lingering images of the train station.

He couldn't afford to dwell on the past—not when someone's life was in balance. He focused on Zoe's face, taking in every detail: the faint freckles on her cheeks, the slight furrow of her brow, the tremble of her breath. His ability required absolute focus on the person he was healing—genuinely seeing them and their suffering.

The room seemed to dim, the sounds of the others fading away as Adrian concentrated.

His ability felt like a wellspring deep within him, one he could tap into with enough clarity and determination. He visualized the damage to Zoe's body: the torn muscles, the ruptured blood vessels, and the infection began to take hold. Then he willed her body to mend itself, piece by piece, cell by cell. A faint warmth spread through him, flowing outward as he focused all his energy on her.

"Come on," he murmured, sweat beading on his forehead. "Come on, Zoe. Stay with me."

For a moment, nothing happened. Then, slowly, the bleeding stopped. The edges of the wound began to knit together, the angry redness fading to a healthier pink. Zoe's breathing grew steadier, her chest rising and falling more evenly. Adrian felt a surge of relief, but he didn't let himself relax. The infection was still a threat, and her body was weak from blood loss. He had to finish this.

The memories of the nurses returned unbidden, their faces flashing before his eyes.

Megan, the petite woman with auburn curls who had been the first to die, her throat torn open by the glowing zombie's claws. And Danny, the quiet but kind-hearted man who had tried to shield her, only to be dragged down seconds later. Adrian had watched helplessly from the train as the zombies swarmed their bodies, devouring them.

He shook his head, his jaw clenching. Not again. He wouldn't lose anyone else. Not if he could help it.

"She's stabilizing," he said aloud, his voice hoarse. Zoe's color was returning, a healthy flush spreading across her cheeks. Adrian exhaled, stepping back slightly but keeping his eyes on her. He had to be sure and see that the infection was truly gone. A moment later, he felt the familiar sensation of finality—the knowledge that her body was healed, whole.

"She's going to make it," he said, relief flooding his voice. He looked up at Matthew, watching intently from the cot's edge. The man's shoulders sagged as the tension left his body, and he nodded.

"Good," Matthew said. "That's good."

The room seemed to exhale with him. Erica let out a shaky laugh, brushing tears from her eyes. Jake clapped Adrian on the back, his usual stoic demeanor softening. "You did it, Doc. You saved her."

Adrian nodded, though his relief was tinged with lingering guilt. He glanced at Zoe again, watching as her chest rose and fell with steady breaths. "She'll need rest, plenty of fluids, and probably some antibiotics to make sure the infection doesn't return. But she's out of immediate danger."

"Thank you," Matthew said, his voice quiet but sincere. He met Adrian's gaze, his expression filled with gratitude. "You've given her a chance. That's more than we could have asked for."

Adrian nodded again, but his mind was still in turmoil. The memory of the train station lingered, refusing to fade. He could still see Megan's lifeless eyes and Danny's bloodied hands. He'd failed them; no amount of success could now erase that.

"Adrian," Callie's voice broke through his thoughts. She was standing beside him, her hand on his shoulder. "You did everything you could. Don't blame yourself for what happened back there."

He shook his head, his jaw tightening. "I should have done more. If I'd acted faster, maybe they'd still be alive."

"If you'd stayed any longer, none of us would have made it," Jake said firmly. "You kept the rest of us alive, and now you've saved Zoe. That counts for something."

Adrian didn't respond. He couldn't shake the feeling that he'd failed, even if the others didn't see it that way. He stood, brushing his hands on his pants out of habit. "I need some air," he muttered, heading for the door.

Outside, the cool night air hit him like a splash of water. He leaned against the wall of the café, closing his eyes as he tried to steady his breathing. The stars were faintly visible through the haze of the apocalypse, their distant light offering a small measure of comfort.

Adrian's thoughts were a mess, a chaotic swirl of guilt, relief, and exhaustion.

"You okay?"

He turned to see Matthew standing a few feet away, his arms crossed. The man's face was shadowed, but his eyes were bright with concern.

Adrian hesitated, then shrugged. "I don't know. I've spent years saving people, but it never gets easier when you lose someone. And those nurses… they trusted me. I let them down."

Matthew stepped closer, his expression serious. "You didn't let anyone down. You did what you could and kept the rest of us alive. That's more than most people can say."

Adrian sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I just… I hate feeling powerless. I'm supposed to be able to help people, to save them. But sometimes it's not enough."

"None of us can save everyone," Matthew said quietly. "But you saved Zoe. And because of that, you've given all of us a chance to keep fighting. That's what matters."

Adrian nodded slowly, though the guilt didn't entirely fade. "I'll try to remember that."

The two men stood in silence for a moment, the faint sounds of the night filling the air. Then Matthew clapped Adrian on the shoulder. "Get some rest, Doc. You've earned it."

Adrian managed a small smile. "You too. You've been through hell getting me here."

Matthew smirked. "Just another day in the apocalypse."