CH 5
I texted my brother he was the only important family i had left.
Once
Twice
The third text went unanswered.
*You alive?*
*Read 9:14 AM.*
I crouched in the alley, the damp concrete biting into my knees. A Red-Eye perched on the fire escape above, its head tilted like a crow studying roadkill. I kept my breathing shallow, the static in my skull simmering to a low hum.
*Stay. Quiet.*
The Red-Eye stiffened, nostrils flaring, then leapt soundlessly to the next rooftop.
I thumbed my phone again, the screen's glare harsh in the gloom. *Cain. Where are you?*
No reply. The map app pulsed—Cain's last location at San Francisco University. *Active 6h ago*. Six hours. Could be dead. Could be hiding. Could be Cain, stubborn as ever, refusing to answer out of spite.
I pocketed the phone and moved.
---
The campus gates were mangled, iron bars twisted into skeletal fingers. Blue-Eyes shuffled through the quad, their milky eyes vacant, flesh sagging like wet paper. Red-Eyes prowled the edges, their movements coiled, predatory. One crouched on the student union roof, tearing into a pigeon. It paused, bloodied beak snapping toward me.
*Keep moving. Ignore me.*
The static crackled. The Red-Eye twitched, then returned to its meal.
---
The humanities building loomed, its brick walls streaked with mold and old blood. A Red-Eye guarded the entrance, sniffing the air. I palmed a loose brick from the ground and hurled it down the hallway. The clatter echoed.
*Distract. Hunt.*
The Red-Eye snarled and lunged toward the noise.
I slipped inside.
---
The hallway was a graveyard. Blue-Eyes slumped against lockers, their decayed fingers trailing through puddles of rainwater. Red-Eyes stalked the shadows, heads snapping at every sound. I kept to the walls, the static humming louder with every step.
*Turn. Left.*
A Red-Eye paused mid-stride, claws flexing. I nudged a desk with my boot. It screeched across the floor.
*Investigate.*
The Red-Eye hissed and veered toward the noise.
Most classrooms were barricaded—desks stacked against doors, whiteboards scrawled with *HELP* in shaky letters. Behind one, a muffled whimper. Behind another, the wet crunch of bone.
At the end of the hall, a Blue-Eye pressed its face to a window, leaving smears of rot.
*Back. Away.*
It shuffled into an empty room, moaning softly.
---
Third floor. Room 307. The door was blocked by a filing cabinet and a tower of chairs. I knocked twice, hard.
Silence. Then whispers.
"They don't knock—"
"It's a trick—"
"Open the damn door!"
The cabinet screeched as someone shoved it aside. A girl cracked the door open, her eyes wide. A butterfly tattoo coiled around her wrist. She raised a fire extinguisher.
"Contacts," I said.
"What?"
"My eyes. Halloween's a lifestyle now."
A guy in a grease-stained beanie snorted behind her. "Dracula's here to save us. Let him in."
Cain stood at the back of the room, arms crossed. His glasses were cracked, his SFU hoodie hanging off his shoulders. "You shouldn't be here."
"You texted me."
"I told you to *leave*."
"Same thing."
A girl stepped beside him—Claire. Her dark curls were tied back with a bandana, a silver bird pendant at her throat. She didn't speak, just studied me, gaze sharp.
---
The classroom stank of sweat and desperation. Desks barricaded the windows, slatted light cutting through the gloom. Blue-Eyes leaned against the glass outside, their milky eyes drifting. Red-Eyes prowled past, claws tapping the panes.
Jesse—the beanie guy—tossed me a water bottle. "How'd you dodge the Red-Eye fan club?"
"They're territorial. Stick to the edges."
"Bullshit," Cain snapped. "They hunt. You should be dead."
Claire's voice cut through, calm. "CDC said they avoid quiet spaces."
"Or Dracula's got a zombie girlfriend," Jesse said, earning nervous laughs.
The girl with the butterfly tattoo—Maya—hugged the fire extinguisher. "They're not zombies. They're infected."
"Same difference."
"No." Cain flipped open a notebook. "Blue-Eyes are corpses. Rotting. Red-Eyes are alive. The virus mutates their cells. Makes them smarter."
Claire's thumb brushed her pendant. "Alive?"
"Alive," Cain said. "And hungry."
A Red-Eye outside turned, staring at me through the glass.
*Leave.*
The static flared, sharp and sudden. The Red-Eye snarled and stalked away.
Claire frowned. "Did it just…?"
"They're erratic," I said. "CDC says they're drawn to noise, then spook at shadows."
---
Hours bled into dusk. Jesse cracked jokes about cafeteria sushi. Maya rationed water. Cain scribbled notes. Claire sat cross-legged beside me, her knee brushing mine.
A Red-Eye slammed its palm against the window.
*STAY.*
The command tore through my skull like a drill. Pressure built behind my eyes, hot and insistent. The Red-Eye stumbled back, shaking its head.
Claire glanced at me. "You're sweating."
"Adrenaline."
"Your nose—"
I wiped it. Red blood streaked my sleeve.
Cain looked up. "You're hurt."
"Window glass," I said, flashing a cut on my palm. "Got sloppy."
Maya relaxed. Jesse tossed me a bandage. "Don't bleed out, Dracula. You're our ticket home."
---
Jesse shook the empty pretzel bag. "We're out."
"Out of *what*?" Cain snapped.
"Food. Water. Hope. Pick one."
Claire stood. "The vending machines—"
"Are behind his barricade." Maya pointed at Cain.
"To keep them out!"
"You're keeping us in!"
A Red-Eye snarled, slamming into the window.
*STAY. BACK.*
The command ripped through me, sharper this time. The pressure in my skull spiked, and warmth trickled from my nose. The Red-Eye jerked away, clawing at its head.
Claire stared at me. "What was—?"
"They're getting aggressive," I said, cutting her off. "We need to move."
Cain blocked the door. "You brought them here."
"I didn't bring shit."
"You're reckless. Always have been."
The Red-Eyes outside howled, their cries shaking the glass.
Claire stepped between us, her hand brushing mine.
"Stop. Both of you."