The tunnel reeked of mildew and death.
Our footsteps splashed through ankle-deep water, echoing in a rhythm that was too fast, too desperate. Behind us, the shadows writhed like living nightmares—moving with intelligence and intent.
"Keep going!" I shouted, but my voice cracked.
Elle was beside me, eyes wild with fear. Zeke lagged behind, his wound bleeding worse now, dripping into the filthy water like a trail for death to follow.
"We're not going to make it," Zeke gasped.
I turned, grabbed his arm. "You are. We all are."
He shook his head, a sad, lopsided grin tugging at his lips. "Allen... go."
"No!"
Suddenly, the shadows surged again, the creature's shape slinking through the low ceiling like liquid darkness.
"Elle, move!" I shoved her forward. She didn't argue. She ran.
Zeke fell.
He screamed—just once.
The shadows swallowed him whole.
I turned just in time to see his body jerk violently. A tendril of darkness wrapped around his throat, lifting him off the ground like a puppet. His limbs spasmed, eyes wide, mouth open—but no sound came. His neck bent at an unnatural angle. There was a snap.
Then silence.
Gone.
"Zeke!" I screamed.
But it was too late.
I stood frozen. The same fire that had once saved us trembled in my hands, barely sparking. I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe.
The creature's glowing eyes stared back at me, emotionless. Cold. And then, slowly, it disappeared into the darkness—dragging Zeke's lifeless body with it.
When I reached Elle, she grabbed my face with both hands. "Allen—Allen, look at me! Where's Zeke?"
I didn't answer.
"Where is he?" she shouted.
I shook my head, biting back a sob. My voice barely came out. "He… didn't make it."
She stared at me, chest heaving. Her lip trembled. She turned away and screamed into her hands. The sound echoed in the tunnel, raw and broken.
"I should've done something," I whispered. "I should've stayed. I should've—"
"No," she said fiercely, rounding on me. "Don't. Don't do that to yourself."
Tears blurred my vision. I staggered backward, falling to my knees in the water. "He died because of me. Because I chose to survive. Because I've always chosen myself."
"Allen…"
"My family, Elle. I left them behind when it all started. I ran. I told myself there was no time, but the truth is—I was afraid. I didn't even try. And Zeke… he trusted me, and now he's gone too."
The fire in my hands finally died.
"I'm not a hero," I said bitterly. "I'm a coward with cursed blood and too many ghosts."
She knelt beside me, her hand on my arm. "No. You're a boy who's lost too much, too fast. You've bled and burned and carried more than anyone should. And you're still here."
"But for how long?"
Her grip tightened. "For as long as it takes. For Zeke. For everyone. You're not allowed to give up now."
I looked at her.
Her eyes were bloodshot, her face smeared with grime and tears—but there was something unbreakable in her expression. The same fire that once lived in me… I saw it in her now.
The grief didn't go away.
But for a moment, I wasn't alone in it.
We stayed there—just the two of us, in the shadows that had taken our friend—until the silence finally stopped screaming.
---
The silence eventually broke.
Not with words.
With the slow, scraping echo of something dragging across metal.
I stiffened. Elle immediately reached for the rusted wrench she'd taken off a broken wall panel.
We were still being hunted.
"Come on," I whispered. "We have to keep moving. Zeke wouldn't want us to die here."
She nodded once, then helped me to my feet. My knees felt like glass. Every step felt like it belonged to someone else—like I'd left a part of myself behind, back in the water with him.
We followed the tunnel further, deeper into the darkness. The air grew colder, staler. Water dripped from above. The tunnel twisted, then opened into a forgotten maintenance chamber.
Inside, a flickering red light pulsed from the corner. Elle was the first to speak.
"What is that?"
We approached cautiously. It was old—covered in grime, but unmistakably a communications console. A thick tangle of wires spilled from the back like black vines, but the blinking red light meant power.
I wiped off the dust and squinted at the cracked screen.
—TRANSMISSION INBOUND—
Elle leaned closer. "Think it's military?"
I shook my head. "If it is, it's not official."
A burst of static filled the room, sharp enough to make us flinch. Then a voice—ragged, human—cut through.
"…to anyone still alive… this is base-09 broadcasting from the inner zone. They lied to us. There's still hope… if you can hear this… don't go to the safe zones… they're not safe. They're converting survivors into weapons. We're underground… coordinates embedded in signal… keep moving. Trust no one… Allen, if you hear this—"
My blood froze.
"You were meant to burn it all down."
Then silence.
Elle turned to me, her face pale.
"They know your name."
I stared at the console. The hairs on my arms stood up.
"I think that was my brother."
"What?"
I looked down, mind racing. "He worked in government labs. I thought he died when the second blast hit the east sector. But that voice... I know that voice."
She reached for my hand. "If he's alive, we have to find him."
I nodded, though my throat felt like it was closing. "But how do we even get to the inner zone?"
Elle turned back to the console and yanked open the lower panel. Her fingers traced the edge of a laminated map, yellowed with age. She pulled it out and spread it on the floor. The signal's embedded data had triggered a blinking red dot.
"Look," she whispered. "A tunnel web. The whole country's underbelly. This map is ancient—but some of it still connects."
"Base-09…" I squinted at the red light flashing near a deep point beneath the capital. "If we follow this line, we can get there."
"Then that's what we do," Elle said.
But I couldn't stop shaking.
Because if my brother was alive…
Then he had seen everything from the beginning.
And if he'd helped create this—if he was part of the Genesis Flame project—then finding him might not be a reunion.
It might be a reckoning.
---
Chapter: The Ghost Path
We moved with renewed purpose. Every turn of the tunnel map brought us closer to the inner zone, but deeper into danger.
Along the way, we found remnants of other travelers. Torn backpacks. Molded photos. Sometimes bones.
But no living souls.
Three days passed.
We rationed food carefully, used water-purifying tablets Elle had packed from the lab raid. We slept in shifts, never fully resting.
And I dreamed of fire.
Always fire.
I saw Zeke's eyes before the shadows took him. My family's faces in the rearview mirror I'd never looked back into. My hands glowing with unearthly flame as Elle screamed my name.
Every time I woke, I felt further from who I used to be.
On the fourth night, we found a narrow maintenance vent that hadn't been used in years. Rusted, but passable. The tunnel beyond it opened into a hollow chamber filled with shattered consoles and overturned chairs.
Elle stopped short.
I followed her gaze.
A body was slumped against the far wall—long decomposed, but still holding something in its bony grip.
An audio device. Still blinking.
I pressed play.
Static, then another voice—female, calm and hauntingly familiar.
"If you're hearing this… you've reached the edge. Beyond here, the inner zone begins. The ones who survived the mutation aren't human anymore. But neither are they dead. They're hungry for more than flesh. They're seeking memory. Identity. They collect pieces of who we were… and wear them like masks."
The message cut off.
I backed away slowly. "We need to be ready for anything."
Elle nodded, her hand clutching the wrench tighter. "We always were."
---