Chapter 8: A Hideout

Near the pumping station, Kael—now more expressive with his emotions—led Emily and her brothers confidently. "I think we are here, it's just a few steps away," he said, his voice steady but expectant. The abandoned maintenance tunnel they'd followed had gradually widened, concrete walls giving way to carved bedrock, the occasional service light still functioning on emergency power.

They were confronted by a stuttering kid wielding a metal pipe, with two others lurking in the shadows. "Wh-who are you p-people, what are you doing h-here?" His eyes darted between them, the pipe wavering slightly in his trembling hands. Though attempting to appear menacing, his oversized jacket and dirt-smudged face revealed a child not much older than Emily's youngest brother.

"Look, we aren't here to harm you," Kael offered, putting down his backpack slowly, palms visible. His voice was measured, the same tone he'd used when they encountered the wounded dog three days prior. One of the kids—taller and more aggressive—stepped forward and roughly emptied the backpack's contents, kicking through their precious supplies with unmasked contempt.

"Two cans of beans, half a bottle of water, some bandages," the boy muttered, disappointment evident. "Not much of a haul." He straightened up, revealing a sharp-featured face beneath a mop of unwashed hair.

"Hey, you guys, we have a hideout with an adult sheltering children like us," said their leader arrogantly, gesturing toward the tunnel behind him. "I'll let you join us." His emphasis on "let" wasn't lost on Emily, who exchanged a quick glance with Kael.

Emily bristled at his attitude. "Who said we'll join you? First you make us give our supply bag, throw everything on the ground without apologizing, and now you're deciding for us?" She stepped forward, fingers curled into fists at her sides. Behind her, Henry and Peter moved closer together, watching the confrontation with wide, anxious eyes.

"Have your parents never taught you any manners?" the boy sneered. "I'm 15, you look barely my age, and you dare talk with such arroga—" THWACK! Kael's fist connected with the boy's jaw, a fluid motion that seemed to surprise even Kael himself.

The boy staggered backward, hand flying to his face in shock. A thin trickle of blood appeared at the corner of his mouth.

"It seems you don't know anything about manners," Kael said quietly, rubbing his fist. His eyes remained fixed on the boy, muscles tensed for another strike if necessary.

"YOU HIT ME!" the boy sputtered, rage and disbelief contorting his features. "GET THEM!" His companions hesitated, clearly reluctant. The youngest—clutching a screwdriver with electrical tape wrapped around the handle—shuffled his feet nervously.

"Blake, maybe we should—" the younger boy began, his voice barely above a whisper.

"SHUT UP, MARCUS!" Blake snapped, spitting blood onto the concrete floor. His eyes narrowed as he assessed Kael with newfound wariness.

A new voice called out from further down the tunnel. "Blake, what's happening?" A tall girl with short-cropped hair emerged from the shadows, carrying a makeshift spear—a kitchen knife secured to a broomstick with duct tape and wire. Her movements were deliberate, confident. Unlike Blake, her authority seemed earned rather than demanded.

She surveyed the scene with practiced efficiency—the scattered supplies, Blake's bloodied lip, Kael's defensive stance protecting Emily and her brothers. "I can hear you shouting from three chambers down. You're going to attract attention we don't need."

"These outsiders attacked me!" Blake protested, pointing accusingly at Kael. "We found them sneaking around—"

"We weren't sneaking," Emily interrupted. "We were looking for shelter. Your friend here dumped out our supplies and started ordering us around."

The girl studied Emily for a long moment before turning to Blake. "Is that true?"

Blake's hesitation was answer enough. After hearing both sides, she ordered, "Blake, back off. Go cool down."

"But Zoe—"

"Now," she said, her tone leaving no room for argument. Blake glared at Kael one final time before stalking away, followed by his reluctant companions.

"I'm Zoe," she introduced herself, lowering her weapon. "Been here the longest, so I sort of keep things running. Sorry about Blake. He's... adjusting." Something in her expression suggested there was more to that story, but she didn't elaborate.

"I'm Emily. These are my brothers—Henry and Peter, and Kael." She gestured to each in turn. The twins, nine years old and identical save for the scar on Henry's chin, nodded silently. Kael merely inclined his head, his earlier bravado replaced by cautious assessment.

Zoe noticed Kael's injuries—the partially healed cuts on his arms, the dark bruise blooming along his jawline. "You look like you could use some cleaning up. We've got water and supplies."

"That would be..." Kael seemed to search for the right word, a concept once familiar now foreign. "...appreciated."

She led them deeper into the tunnel system, through a metal door reinforced with scavenged lumber, into a circular chamber that had been converted into living quarters. Mismatched furniture—salvaged from abandoned homes—created small "rooms" within the larger space. Sheets hung from pipes formed privacy barriers. A central pit contained the remains of a carefully managed fire, the smoke directed upward through what appeared to be a repurposed ventilation shaft.

About fifteen children of various ages moved through the space, some pausing to stare at the newcomers with undisguised curiosity. The youngest couldn't have been more than five; the oldest perhaps sixteen or seventeen.

"Welcome to home sweet home," Zoe said with a hint of pride in her voice. "It's not much, but it keeps the rain off and the monsters out."

"You've done well," Emily observed, noting the organization of the space—the clean sleeping areas, the carefully rationed supplies stored in plastic containers, the roster written in chalk on a section of wall. Someone had even attempted to brighten the space with crude drawings and a string of Christmas lights powered by a car battery.

"We manage," Zoe replied simply. "Let's get you settled. There's space near the east wall. Water rations are one cup per person per day unless you're on scavenging duty. Everyone contributes—cleaning, cooking, watch duty."

While Emily helped the twins arrange their meager belongings in their designated area, Zoe led Kael to a corner where medical supplies were stored in an old cooler. She handed him a damp cloth. "For your face."

Kael accepted it wordlessly, wincing slightly as he pressed it against his bruised jaw. Emily joined them, taking the cloth from his hands. "Let me," she said, gently cleaning the cut above his eye while Kael sat unmoving, his gaze fixed on the floor.

"How long have you been out there?" Zoe asked, watching their interaction with interest.

"Three weeks since our last shelter," Emily answered when Kael remained silent. "We were with a larger group in a shopping mall about twenty miles east, but it was overrun." She didn't elaborate on the details—the screams, the desperate barricades that failed, the frantic escape through service corridors as familiar faces turned monstrous behind them.

While Emily tended to Kael's wounds, a small girl with pigtails approached, clutching a tattered stuffed rabbit. She couldn't have been more than six. "Is it true?" she asked, her voice barely audible. "What Blake was yelling about? You killed one of them?"

Emily hesitated, glancing at Kael, unsure how to respond to the child.

"He did," Emily answered finally. "But it was very dangerous."

The girl's eyes widened as she stared at Kael with newfound awe. "Blake says they're demons," she added matter-of-factly. "That God sent them to punish us."

"They're not demons," Kael explained quietly, lifting his gaze to meet the child's. "They're... they were human once. I saw it happen to my mother. It's like a disease that spreads through contact. If you smell like them, they ignore you." His voice remained steady, but Emily noticed his hand trembling slightly.

"Like camouflage," the girl nodded, as if this explanation made perfect sense to her. "I'm Lily. I have a rabbit. His name is Mr. Flopsy." She thrust the bedraggled toy forward for inspection.

Before Kael could respond, a commotion near the entrance drew everyone's attention. Two boys—slightly older than the twins—burst through the door, breathing heavily.

"We've got movement topside!" the taller one announced between gulps of air. "At least a dozen around the gas station half a mile east."

The relaxed atmosphere in the chamber instantly evaporated. Children moved with practiced efficiency—dimming lights, gathering weapons, shepherding the youngest toward the back of the chamber where a secondary exit was hidden behind a stack of crates.

"They're spreading out in the area," one of the scouts added, his voice dropping to a whisper despite the layers of concrete separating them from the surface. "Seems random, but there's a lot of them."

"We should stay down here until they pass," Zoe decided, her expression grim. "They've moved through this area before without finding us."

"No one's going anywhere," she added, her gaze sweeping across the frightened faces. "Tyler, Ava—check the north entrance. Make sure the barricades are secure. Everyone else, minimum noise, minimum light. We've drilled for this."

As the children dispersed to their assigned tasks, Emily helped Kael and the twins settle on a thin mattress in their designated corner. "Do you think they'll find us down here?" Henry whispered

"No, I don't think so, Zoe told me that this place was hard to find even for them" Kael replied

Henry then hugged Kael tightly showing how much he liked him, not only him but peter on the other side as well.

Emily smiled seeing this

Kael found this warmth Comfortable, he was being reminded of something, or someone, someone who used to be very close to him.

His eyes started shutting close, he drifted asleep, without any regret, that night he slept heart fully.