"Dylan. Dylan."
The voice sounded muffled, as though it were coming from somewhere far away.
"Dylan."
Everything around him was blurry. His eyes struggled to focus as he slowly lifted his head.
"Dylan."
This time, the voice was clear.
Dylan blinked a few times before looking up at Victor, who was standing beside him.
Victor gave him a tired smile. "It's my turn. Told you to wake me up."
Dylan yawned, rubbing his eyes before giving a slow nod. "Sorry," he muttered. "Dozed off."
Victor shook his head. "Get some rest, man. We'll wake you up soon as light hits the sky."
Dylan nodded again and pushed himself to his feet, stretching slightly as the stiffness from sitting all night settled into his muscles.
"Alright."
Dylan walked a short distance away before pulling his backpack off and placing it on the floor. He lowered himself onto it, using the pack as a pillow.
His rifle lay beside him, within arm's reach.
Within seconds, Dylan's eyes began to close again.
Victor watched him for a moment before turning toward the entrance, taking his position by the barricaded doors.
~~~
"Dylan. Dylan."
Silence.
"Dylan. Dylan. Hey, man."
The voice was clear again.
Dylan slowly woke, bringing a hand over his head as he sat up. His vision was still hazy, and he blinked several times before focusing on Victor standing beside him.
"Oh good. You're finally awake. You alright?"
Dylan squinted, rubbing his temple. "Yeah, yeah. I'm fine. Just lightheaded."
Victor studied him for another moment before glancing toward the entrance. "Come on. We gotta go. Rain finally stopped."
The entrance began to open.
Ethan walked inside, his rifle resting across his arms. "He awake?" He peeked past Victor and spotted Dylan sitting upright.
Dylan pushed himself to his feet, shaking his head slightly as if trying to wake himself up completely.
Ethan let out a breath of relief. "Yow, thank God. Thought you were dead, man."
Dylan frowned. "Why?"
"You wouldn't wake up, man," Victor said.
Dylan reached down and picked up his rifle before slinging his backpack over his shoulder. "What do you mean? I just slept."
Ethan and Victor exchanged a glance.
"Man," Victor said. "Sun's already high up. Give or take, it's eleven o'clock. Told you to get some rest. Didn't think you'd take it too literally."
Dylan stopped. "I slept half the day off?"
"Yeah, yeah," Ethan said. "Come on. We found a wild boar earlier. We eating good today."
Dylan shook his head lightly.
The motion made him sway.
Victor immediately stepped closer, ready to catch him if he fell. "You okay, man? What's wrong with you?"
Dylan steadied himself. "Must've been the rain. Never really did good with rain."
Victor frowned. "Yeah, it was raining pretty heavy until sunrise. Come on. The others are outside."
Dylan gave a small nod. "Alright."
~~~
"I feel bad eating such delicious pork. Maybe we should get half back to Havenwall."
"Nah, they're alright. Let's be greedy just for today. It's just one day. Give it a rest, man."
"This is top-notch. I miss fine dining."
"You miss fine dining? Man, I just miss biking around without a care in the world."
"We kinda did take advantage of the old world."
"Yeah. We kinda did."
"Now it's just all crap and scraps."
"Boar's good, though."
"Yeah. Boar's good."
"I don't think Dylan is, though."
"Dylan. Dylan."
"Dylan? You with us, man? Hey."
Snap.
Dylan pulled back into his senses, the muffled voices suddenly becoming clear as day again. He blinked and stared around the campfire, the smell of grilled meat filling the air as smoke drifted lazily upward.
Derek noticed him staring blankly. "You okay, son? You seem out of it."
Dylan nodded. "Yeah, yeah. Just…" He trailed off, unable to find the words.
Ethan reached into his pocket and pulled out his knife. He stabbed a piece of grilled pork with the blade and held it out toward Dylan like an improvised fork. "Eat. You might just be hungry."
Dylan stared at the piece of meat for a moment before taking it. "Yeah, yeah. Thanks."
~~~
"Where's the local map, son?"
"Oh, right here."
"You got a local map? Where'd you get that?"
"Local police building. Few blocks that way."
"That… that's interesting."
"Hmmm… yeah, yeah. Might be worth checking out."
"We're already out here. We promised to scavenge for supplies, and all we have are pillows and blankets for Jenkins and a few cans of beans."
A brief silence followed before another voice continued. "Not to mention, this town is kind of in the middle of nowhere. Fewer residents? Fewer Shriekers. Less survivors. It's only a win."
"Alright. Your call."
They followed the map deeper into town, making their way toward the distribution warehouse. The streets remained eerily quiet as they passed rows of abandoned buildings and vehicles left behind in the middle of the road. Whatever supplies the town had once held had mostly been picked clean, but the warehouse offered one last possibility.
~~~
Gunfire erupted.
"Fuck! This was a bad idea."
"Dylan! Man!"
"Hold the doors! Push with all your strength, people!"
"I'm sliding!"
"Firm your ground, Ethan!"
WHAM!
A punch landed squarely across Dylan's face.
He recoiled, stumbling backward as his senses came rushing back. He stood there panting, clutching his lower jaw.
Joan stood directly in front of him. "We need you, Dylan! What the hell is going on with you?"
Dylan looked around. Ethan, Victor, Derek, and two other men were desperately holding the two separate entrance doors shut, each group bracing against one entrance as the doors shook violently beneath the force of the Shriekers outside.
The doors shook violently as Shriekers hammered against them from outside.
"What—where—what's going on?"
"SNAP OUT OF IT! Get your head straight, Dyl!"
Dylan's eyes darted around the room, searching for a way out.
"I'm sliding, man! I can't hold anymore!"
"You slide, we die!" Derek yelled.
Dylan's gaze suddenly caught something above them.
A ventilation shaft.
"Up there."
"Go! Go!"
Dylan grabbed Joan and lifted her, helping her reach the opening. She pulled herself inside and began crawling forward.
Dylan turned back toward the others. He shoved a nearby shelf against one of the entrances, jamming it against the door. "Go!"
Ethan scrambled toward the ventilation shaft, dragging the heavy backpack stuffed with canned food behind him.
Dylan moved to the other entrance and wedged his tomahawk between the door and its frame. "Go!"
He helped the others climb into the ventilation shaft before grabbing the remaining bags.
One after another, he threw the supplies up into the shaft—backpacks, duffle bags, and anything else they had managed to find.
The Shriekers continued pounding against both entrances, their shrieks and wails filling the room.
The shelf began to shift.
The tomahawk slowly slipped from the second door.
"Leave it, man!" Ethan shouted.
Dylan grabbed another bag.
The tomahawk slid free.
CLANG!
The door burst open.
Shriekers flooded into the room.
"Shit!"
Dylan turned and sprinted toward the ventilation shaft and jumped.
Victor and Ethan caught him by both arms, pulling him upward as the Shriekers reached them, claws swinging wildly beneath their feet.
One managed to catch Dylan by the boot.
He kicked violently until its grip released.
Victor and Ethan hauled him higher until Dylan finally scrambled into the shaft. The others continued crawling deeper into the narrow passage as the Shriekers clawed desperately at the opening behind them.
Finally, they made it out of the distribution warehouse.
Outside, the streets were littered with abandoned, torn-up cars, some smashed against one another and others left haphazardly across the road.
They sprinted toward their vehicles, tossing the bags inside without a care in the world.
Dylan reached for the driver's door, but before he could get in, Ethan shoved past him. "I'll drive. Get inside."
Dylan didn't argue. He quickly moved to the passenger seat and climbed in.
The vehicles roared to life and pulled away just as the Shriekers finally burst out of the warehouse, having torn down one of the doors.
The convoy accelerated down the road, putting as much distance as possible between themselves and the warehouse.
Ethan grabbed the radio. "Everyone okay? Everyone made it out? Over."
A moment of static.
Derek answered back. "We're fine here, kid. Keep an eye on Dylan."
Another voice came through almost immediately.
"A-O-K here too. That was quite a near-death experience," Victor said, sounding breathless.
Ethan glanced toward Dylan.
Then he slammed his foot down on the gas.
The vehicle surged forward, carrying them farther and farther away from the warehouse—and the swarm of Shriekers chasing after them.
~~~
The road stretched endlessly ahead, the landscape passing by in a blur as the convoy continued to put distance between themselves and the warehouse.
Ethan was still breathing heavily, his hands firmly gripping the steering wheel. "What's wrong with you, man?"
Dylan stared through the windshield. "I-I don't recall getting here."
Ethan glanced at him. "You serious? You don't remember anything?"
Dylan stared into the distance, his own confusion deepening. "N-No. I-I don't."
Ethan exhaled heavily, still trying to catch his breath. "We've got to get you checked. Something's not right."
"I-I feel fine, though."
"Aha. Physically, you might." Ethan briefly tapped the side of his own head. "But this... you might not be."
Dylan said nothing.
The silence lingered between them for a moment.
"Is it like a relapse? PTSD? Or something? 'Cause I've never seen you act like that. So recklessly... and like you were so out of it."
Dylan slowly turned toward him. "I was?"
"Had to practically drag you around."
Dylan lowered his gaze. "Sorry... sorry. I—this ain't ever happened to me before."
"You sure? You had us all worried, man. We almost died. If you keep this up, we'd have to exclude you from scavenging missions."
Dylan shook his head. "I-yeah. No... sorry."
Ethan sighed, his eyes returning to the road. "God, what a day."
~~~
Back in Havenwall, Yve approached Taylor. "He really won't come out?"
"Yeah... and I bet he hasn't eaten all day since yesterday. I don't know what's going on with him."
Elena joined the conversation, her expression filled with concern. "Is Jenkins fine? Like, is this—is this some kind of side effect?"
"I-I don't know. I'm gonna have to check. I better go check on him."
"Okay. Okay... tell him to eat. I'll bring a tray of food."
Yve nodded, and the three eventually parted ways.
Yve headed straight toward Jenkins' house. When she reached the door, she knocked.
No answer.
She leaned closer, pressing her ear against the wood. Her heightened senses picked up something almost immediately.
Movement.
The wooden floor creaked faintly somewhere inside.
Then she heard heavy breathing.
And something else.
A faint growl.
Yve pulled back slightly. "Doc. Open up." She knocked again.
Nothing.
"If you don't open up, I'm gonna kick the door down."
She listened.
Still nothing.
Yve rolled her eyes and exhaled. "I'm kicking the door. I'm serious."
She twisted the doorknob, but it was locked.
Yve stepped back. "Stay back. I'm kicking it."
She planted her feet, shifted her weight, and prepared herself.
Then she drove her foot straight into the door.
BANG!
The doorknob broke loose and fell to the floor as the door swung open and a sharp splinter of wood grazed Yve's leg.
"Oooh..." she winced. "That sting."
She pulled her leg free and straightened herself.
The broken door hung crookedly from its hinges.
Yve stared into the house. "Doc?"
The living room was empty.
Broken glass covered parts of the floor. The mirror had been shattered into pieces, the curtains had been ripped down, and deep scratches ran across the floor and the couch. She slowly moved toward the bedroom door.
It was covered in deep scratches.
"Doc?"
No answer.
"Jenkins? I-I'm coming in. I'm opening the door." She reached for the handle.
Locked.
Then she heard something. Yve's head immediately turned toward the wall beside the door. Heavy breathing came from the other side.
Her instincts kicked in.
Scales slowly flared across her skin, crawling up her neck and spreading toward her shoulders. Her claws gradually extended from her fingers. "Doc... it's me. Yve. Are you okay?"
She carefully pressed both palms against the wall and her senses reached through it.
Someone was there, breathing right on the other side.
Yve's eyes narrowed, taking on a predatory gleam as her ears shifted, searching for any other movement inside the house.
Nothing.
She slowly withdrew one hand from the wall. "I'm sorry I kicked your door down..." She glanced at the damaged front door. "If you don't come out, I'm gonna have to kick your bedroom door down as well."
Just as she stood there staring at the wall, Yve slowly reached for the handle and pulled it down. The lock resisted for a moment before finally giving way beneath her strength.
Then, without warning, the wall beside her exploded outward.
A figure launched through it, catching Yve completely off guard. The impact sent her crashing hard against the opposite wall, and she cried out as the creature immediately grabbed her by the neck.
Yve hissed, her features shifting almost instantly into their predatory form. Scales spread across her skin, her eyes sharpened, and her teeth elongated as her claws extended from her fingers. She seized the creature's arm and twisted, forcing it to release her before shoving it backward and slamming it against the wall.
The creature fought back, a fist catching Yve in the side and forcing her to stagger before it lunged at her again. Its claws scraped against her skin as she ducked beneath the attack and struck back.
They exchanged punches and scratches, tearing through the living room as the struggle intensified.
But Yve was more experienced, and it showed. She anticipated the creature's movements, caught its next attack, and drove it toward the floor before her attention shifted toward the nearby cabinet.
With a sudden burst of strength, she grabbed it and pulled.
The cabinet toppled over with a deafening crash, landing directly on the creature and pinning it beneath its weight. Yve immediately climbed onto it, adding her weight to the cabinet and making it even harder for the creature to free itself.
She crouched down and grabbed its head, holding it firmly against the floor. Her claws hovered dangerously close to its eyes as she leaned toward it.
The creature hissed and growled beneath her.
Yve's voice dropped into a deep, low tone that carried an unmistakable threat. "Ssshhhh." She brought her claws a little closer. "One wrong move and you'll be blind."
The creature continued to hiss and growl, struggling beneath the cabinet while Yve panted heavily above it. Slowly, the predatory features began retreating. The scales faded back into smooth skin, her eyes softened, and her teeth returned to normal.
Her claws remained extended.
Yve stared down at the creature's face, studying its features.
Something suddenly clicked.
She froze.
"Jenkins?" She looked at him again, almost unable to believe what she was seeing. "Jenkins?"
Yve slowly stood up, her expression shifting from suspicion to realization. "Oh... I'm sorry."
But the moment she shifted her weight and lowered her guard, Jenkins suddenly surged upward.
The force threw Yve off the cabinet and sent her stumbling across the floor. She quickly caught herself and pushed back to her feet, but Jenkins was already turning toward her.
His frantic eyes locked onto her.
He lunged.
Yve reacted on instinct. Her fist slammed hard into his neck.
Jenkins stopped instantly.
His body went completely limp. The wildness in his eyes disappeared as his gaze drifted upward, leaving only white.
Then he collapsed to the floor with a heavy thud.
Yve stared down at Jenkins for a moment before her expression slowly fell. "Oh... oh dear heavens... I'm so sorry."
She crouched beside him and carefully lifted his unconscious body, carrying him over to the sofa. As she laid him down, she finally got a proper look at the state he was in. His pants were completely ripped, the white gown was torn, and his shirt had been ripped apart so badly that it was barely hanging from his body.
Yve's eyes moved over him before slowly shifting toward the rest of the room.
The broken furniture. The scratches covering the walls and floor. The shattered glass.
It finally clicked.
"Oh..." Her voice softened. "This is all my fault." She sighed heavily, then pulled a blanket over Jenkins, covering his body and leaving only his face exposed. "You're still a kid, after all..."
Yve stood and turned toward the table where Jenkins had been working. Papers and handwritten notes were scattered everywhere, some of them stained or crumpled beneath the chaos. Her attention was immediately drawn to a small vial lying among them.
Blood.
The vial had spilled, leaving only a small amount remaining inside while most of its contents had dried across the surface of the table, sticky and dark.
Yve picked it up. Then the smell reached her.
She froze.
It was faint, but unmistakable.
That same strange scent she had smelled on Dylan.
A forest-like smell.
Her expression tightened as she brought the vial slightly closer, carefully taking in the scent again. "What the hell...?"
Her eyes shifted toward Jenkins' work.
Then she began gathering the notebook and several of the notes before searching around the room for something else.
"Where's my tablet...?"
Finally, she spotted it inside one of the drawers.
Yve pulled it out and pressed the power button, but nothing happened. She tried again, only to be met with the same result. "Damn..." she muttered, sighing heavily.
Even so, she tucked the tablet beneath her arm and gathered the remaining materials. She found a box nearby and stuffed the notebook, notes, and tablet inside before carrying it all outside.
As she stepped into the street, she noticed one of the residents passing by.
"Hey..." Yve called out. "Can you help me with this?"
The resident stopped and turned toward her. The moment he noticed what she was carrying, his body tensed. "Oh, uh... sure. Sure."
"Hang on." Yve disappeared back inside.
A few moments later, she emerged carrying Jenkins in her arms. His entire body and face were covered beneath the blanket, making him look considerably more ominous than he actually was.
The resident took one look at her and instinctively backed away. "Is—is that a dead body?"
Yve gave a small, awkward chuckle. "No... no. It's Jenkins. Just... just follow me."
The resident hesitated, still staring at the blanket-covered figure in her arms. "Oh... okay."
Yve adjusted her grip on Jenkins and started walking toward the medical building, with the resident following cautiously behind her.
After a few minutes, they finally reached the rooftop of the medical building.
The resident stepped onto the rooftop and immediately looked around, taking in the strange technology surrounding him. "This is awesome."
Yve barely glanced back at him. "Not really." She stepped forward and raised her voice. "Hey, Nine. The stairs, please."
A faint mechanical hum filled the rooftop. A scanning beam passed over Yve from head to toe, briefly illuminating her body as the system analyzed her presence.
After a few seconds, something shifted beneath them.
A section of the structure unfolded with a series of smooth mechanical movements, extending outward until it formed a staircase leading up toward the bridge.
Yve stepped onto it cautiously, adjusting Jenkins in her arms as the resident stared at the unfolding mechanism.
"Oh... uhh..."
"Follow me. I don't bite."
"Yeah—uh... this is weird."
Yve continued across the bridge without slowing down. "Just set the box down at the control table, and then you can go."
The man awkwardly followed her orders, carrying the box toward the control table as Yve continued farther inside.
"Nine. Can you disinfect my bedroom and power the lights in there?"
A calm artificial voice answered almost immediately.
"Disinfecting Room C."
Yve waited as the system worked.
A few seconds later, Nine spoke again. "Room C disinfected for Celestia Yve Virellis."
"Thanks, Nine." Yve turned toward the resident. "You can go. Careful on your way down."
The man awkwardly nodded, but his attention remained fixed on the interior of the ARC. His eyes wandered across the unfamiliar technology, the strange architecture, and the enormous corridors stretching beyond the bridge.
Under his breath, he muttered, "I'm in an alien ship."
Yve had already begun walking toward the left wing. "It's not an alien ship." She continued down the aisle, carrying Jenkins against her. Then she muttered quietly to herself, "What is it with these humans?"
The gate leading into the left wing opened as she approached.
Yve stepped through, and the gate closed behind her as she disappeared into the left wing with Jenkins.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Author's Note:
I hope y'all are following. Just to make it clear, from Chapter 83 to 98, it's only been less than 48 hours...I think... kinda hard switching from multiple POVs. How will we ever finish this book? HAHAHAHAHOHOHUHUHUHU 😭