Chapter 28: Echo Ridge Descent

The trees thinned as the slope steepened, opening into a narrow gorge flanked by ice-covered cliffs. Joel held up a fist, signaling the group to slow their pace. A thick fog had settled between the stones, rolling like breath from the earth itself.

"This is it," Ethan said, breath visible in the cold. "Echo Ridge should be just beyond this bend."

"Doesn't look like much," Ellie muttered, adjusting her grip on the rifle.

"It's not supposed to," Joel replied. "That's what makes it dangerous."

The narrow pass twisted like a serpent. Cracked concrete poked through the snow—what might have once been a service road now swallowed by time. Every step deeper into the gorge silenced the sounds of the forest behind them. Even the wind seemed afraid to follow.

They found the gate buried in ice. Bent, rusted, but clearly man-made. A tattered Firefly emblem clung to the top bar, almost torn away.

Carrow approached it, running her fingers along the edge. "This was never on any public map. We only had whispers."

"Then we're in the right place," Ethan said.

Joel kicked the gate open. The screech echoed like a scream across the gorge.

They entered.

The tunnel beyond was damp and sloped downward. Flashlights cut through the dark, revealing metal walls lined with grime. Scratched messages in faded marker lined the left side:

"They lied."

"Test Group B—containment failed."

"We were the cure."

Ellie read them aloud, voice hollow. "What the hell happened here?"

No one answered.

The tunnel opened into an atrium. A collapsed staircase led down to what used to be a holding bay—maybe for supplies or vehicles. Now, it was a tomb.

Skeletons, long since stripped of flesh, were frozen in their last positions. Some clutched weapons. Others huddled in corners.

"FEDRA uniforms," Joel said, nudging one boot.

"And those," Ethan pointed, "are Fireflies."

Carrow's face hardened. "So they fought each other."

"No," Ethan said, narrowing his eyes at the thick scratch marks on the walls. "They fought something else."

A low groan echoed through the halls.

Everyone froze.

Another groan, then a sharp screech like nails on glass.

Joel raised his rifle. "Infected."

"No," Ethan whispered. "Listen again."

The sound came again—but it was layered. Two voices. One deeper, raspier, the other erratic, high-pitched.

"Not just infected," Ethan said. "Something else."

They spread out, moving toward a hallway where the sound seemed to come from. As they turned the corner, Ellie gasped.

The creature at the far end of the corridor had a hunched frame, its skin mottled and black-veined. Bulbous, twitching eyes glinted in the dark beneath layers of fungal plating. Its limbs jerked with unnatural speed, posture hunched like a predator ready to spring. Patches of flesh pulsed with black veins, like something beneath was still alive and writhing.

"Is that a... hybrid?" Hale asked, raising his rifle, his voice barely more than a whisper.

"I think it's... what's left of a test subject," Carrow replied, narrowing her eyes, flanking to the right.

The thing let out a shriek—metallic, high-pitched, not entirely human. Then it lunged.

"DOWN!" Joel roared.

The hallway exploded into chaos.

Muzzle flashes strobed the dark as Joel opened fire, bullets slamming into the creature's chest. It staggered but didn't fall, its momentum throwing it forward. Ellie dove left behind an overturned cart. Ethan dropped to one knee, aiming for its knees—two sharp cracks echoed, but it barely flinched.

Carrow attempted to flank, boots slipping over a thin slick of oil. Her cry of pain rang out as she slammed against the wall—shrapnel slicing deep into her arm.

"Carrow's hit!" Hale shouted, firing short, controlled bursts into the creature's side.

It twisted in mid-air, leaping off the wall, claws raking toward Joel.

Joel sidestepped just in time, the talons grazing his coat, and unloaded two more rounds into the creature's abdomen.

"Too fast!" Ellie shouted, popping out to take a shot that grazed its fungal crest.

Ethan's eyes darted to a rusted oxygen tank lying near the broken wall.

"There!" he yelled. "Cover me!"

He sprinted forward, sliding across the slick floor. Bullets zipped past him. He grabbed the tank, rolled it toward the creature's path.

As the monster lunged toward Ellie, Ethan raised his pistol and fired—

The tank erupted in a fireball that lit up the corridor.

The shockwave flung them all back. Smoke and heat surged through the chamber.

Ethan coughed, ears ringing. Through the haze, he saw the creature's twitching remains smoldering in the flickering flames. One arm still jerked unnaturally, but it was done.

"Get Carrow clear!" Joel barked.

"I'll take her," Hale said, dragging her to her feet. "We'll circle back through the top hall!"

"Meet at the extraction tunnel!" Ethan shouted, eyes still on the flames.

Hale nodded once and disappeared into the smoke, Carrow leaning on him.

Ethan walked forward, boots crunching charred debris. He stared at the corpse—what was left of it—and felt something cold settle in his gut.

It wasn't just infection.

It was a weapon.

"Get Carrow clear," Joel ordered.

"I'll take her," Hale said, lifting her with effort. "We'll circle back through the top hall!"

"Meet at the extraction tunnel!" Ethan called.

Hale nodded and disappeared into the shadows with Carrow leaning on his side.

Ethan walked forward, staring at the smoldering corpse.

Ethan walked forward, staring at it.

"It's not just infection," he said. "This was... engineered."

Joel's jaw tightened. "Then whoever built this place wasn't looking for a cure."

They moved deeper.

In a side room, Ethan found a locked server cabinet. The monitor flickered weakly. He tapped the keys.

PROJECT: GREYREACH — LOG ENTRY 172

Subject D-09 shows resistance to Type II strain. Potential vector candidate. Parent lineage confirmed: Winters.

Ethan's hands clenched.

"Mom and Dad were here," he said.

Ellie stepped beside him, reading over his shoulder. "They were studying you?"

"No," Ethan said slowly. "They were trying to protect me."

Another log loaded.

Facility breach detected. Relocation team en route. Target: D-09 to be secured or neutralized.

Joel's voice was like ice. "They planned to take you. Or kill you."

A crash echoed from below.

"Second floor's giving out," Ellie warned.

"Time to go," Joel said.

But Ethan stood frozen, eyes fixed on the last message flashing on-screen.

Project terminated. Subject D-09 presumed dead. File locked.

"Let it go," Ellie said, grabbing his sleeve. "We're not losing you to ghosts."

They turned and ran as the facility began to groan and collapse behind them.

They emerged from the lower tunnel nearly half an hour later, boots crunching over cracked tile and broken concrete. A dim shaft of light filtered through a collapsed ceiling, casting long, skeletal shadows across the debris. Joel was the first to reach the surface access point—an old metal ladder bolted into a concrete wall.

Ethan steadied Ellie as she climbed, his hand lingering under her boot in case the rung snapped. When he followed her up and out into the icy wind, his breath hitched.

They had surfaced into a narrow mountain basin. Snow drifted gently from above, and behind them, the black mouth of Echo Ridge yawned like a wound.

Ellie collapsed into the snow, exhaling hard. "I'm starting to hate underground places."

Joel crouched, rifle ready, scanning the horizon. "We give Hale and Carrow an hour. If they don't show, we move. Fast."

Ethan nodded but stayed quiet. He was still holding the printed log sheet he'd pulled from the terminal—folded and crumpled from his grip. On the top margin, his mother's initials were scribbled in the corner.

He stared down at it.

"Your mom wrote that?" Ellie asked gently.

"I think so."

"You okay?"

"No. But I will be."

Joel turned. "We set camp behind those rocks. Keep low. If those things followed us—or if the Wardens are nearby—I want cover."

They moved, quietly setting up a minimal shelter behind a ridge of stone and ice. Ethan built a small fire from a fuel cell canister and broken chair legs they'd salvaged.

The night fell colder than the one before.

Ellie sat beside him again, arms wrapped around her knees. "You think they'll make it?"

"Hale's tough," Ethan said. "Carrow too. They'll find a way."

"Just like us?" she asked.

Ethan glanced at her. "Yeah. Just like us."

The fire crackled quietly. Snowflakes melted on Ethan's gloves as he rotated them near the flame. Across from him, Joel was sharpening his knife in methodical, practiced strokes.

After a moment, Joel spoke. "That hybrid… the way it moved. That wasn't infection. That was training. Conditioning."

Ethan nodded slowly. "Or programming."

Ellie frowned. "You think they were making weapons?"

Joel stopped sharpening. "Wouldn't be the first time someone tried."

Ethan unfolded the crumpled log again, eyes scanning the last line.

"Subject D-09 presumed dead."

He whispered, "They thought I was gone. Years ago."

Ellie leaned forward. "So what does that mean? You were taken? Hidden?"

"I don't know," Ethan replied. "But it means they knew. Someone knew I existed—and tried to erase me."

Joel slid the knife back into its sheath. "Then they'll try again. Once they know you're still breathing."

The fire popped, and for a moment none of them said anything.

Then Ellie spoke again, her voice low. "We still going to Jackson?"

Joel nodded. "We rest. Then we head that way. Tommy needs to know about this place. And whatever's coming next."

Ethan added, "And maybe someone there knows how deep this project went."

"Or who else they're still hunting," Joel said.

Silence returned, heavy and cold.

But they weren't alone in the night.

Far above, near the ridge they'd come from, two distant figures paused behind a frost-covered tree. One of them adjusted a scope, watching the tiny firelight flicker through the rocks below.

"Confirmed," the spotter whispered. "D-09 is alive."

The second figure raised a radio.

"Echo Ridge survivors located. Proceed with containment."