The moment he moved, it followed.
Not physically.
Not in the world.
In him.
The flicker that had hovered at the edge of his vision in the shed didn't fade when he stepped outside, and that alone was enough to tell him that whatever had just happened wasn't temporary.
It stayed.
Faint.
Structured.
Wrong in a way that felt too deliberate to ignore.
Arty slowed without meaning to, his attention splitting between the yard ahead and the thing that now sat just beyond direct focus, like a reflection that only existed when he wasn't looking straight at it.
He blinked once.
The shapes shifted.
Not random.
Organising.
Trying to become something he could understand.
His chest tightened.
Because this—
This was new.
And it was reacting to him.
"Arty," Leah said sharply from behind him. "Move."
He didn't.
Not immediately.
Because for the first time, he knew this wasn't just about surviving anymore.
The moment they stepped back into the yard, the world felt louder.
Not in sound alone, though there was plenty of that now, metal rattling, distant impacts, the uneven chorus of movement spilling in from the road and neighbouring lots.
It was something else layered over it, something Arty couldn't quite name yet, like the space around him had gained an extra dimension he could almost perceive if he looked at it the wrong way.
The crystals in his pocket felt heavier, not in a physical way, more in a meaningful way.
"Left," Leah said, already moving toward the ute.
Arty didn't argue, he angled with her, keeping himself between her and the closest movement while his eyes tracked the gate and the lane beyond it.
More shapes had gathered there, drawn by noise and motion, their numbers building slowly but steadily in a way that made the place feel less like a yard and more like a funnel waiting to close.
"Faster," Dale muttered, half to himself as he stumbled forward, his hand pressed tighter against his side.
Tom dropped from the tray edge to help, catching Dale under the arm without waiting for permission, dragging him the last few steps as Arty reached the driver's door and yanked it open.
"Everyone in, now."
No hesitation this time.
Leah moved first, throwing the bag onto the seat before climbing in.
Dale followed, half-falling into the back, Tom swinging back up into the tray with a speed that came from knowing exactly how little time they had.
Arty got behind the wheel, slammed the door, and turned the key.
The engine caught.
A shape hit the side of the ute at the same moment, a dull thud that rocked the vehicle just enough to remind him how thin the barrier between them and everything outside really was.
He didn't wait.
The ute surged forward, tyres spitting gravel as he cut a tight line through the yard and out toward the open gate.
One zombie stumbled into the path and disappeared under the front corner with a crunch he refused to think about.
They broke onto the service road.
For three seconds, nothing blocked them.
Then the world filled again.
Figures spilled from between houses, from side streets, from behind parked vehicles left half-abandoned when whatever this was had started.
Not a flood, not yet, enough to turn a straight run into a problem.
Arty didn't slow.
He threaded the ute through the gaps, adjusting constantly, the steering wheel alive under his hands as he chose paths that didn't exist until he forced them open.
The engine strained as he pushed it harder than he should have, the fuel needle dipping slightly lower with every burst of acceleration.
"Where are we going?" Leah asked, gripping the dash as the ute bounced over a broken section of road.
Arty didn't answer immediately.
Because for the first time since this had started, he wasn't just reacting.
He was thinking ahead.
The house was gone.
The servo was a trap.
The fabrication yard had potential, but not without time he didn't have.
He needed something else.
Something bigger.
Something built to hold.
"Further in," he said finally. "Industrial or commercial. Big structures. Fewer entry points."
"Shopping centre?" Tom called from the tray.
"Too many doors," Arty replied. "Too many people."
"Warehouse district?" Leah suggested.
"Better."
The crystals shifted in his pocket as the ute hit another bump.
The pressure surged again.
This time it didn't fade.
It stayed.
A low, constant presence sitting just behind his awareness, like something waiting for permission to exist.
His vision flickered.
Stronger.
Longer.
Lines appeared again, faint and translucent, hovering just at the edge of sight. He could almost read them now, almost focus on them, but every time he tried, they slipped away like reflections on water.
"What's wrong?" Leah asked.
"Nothing," he said automatically, though the word felt less true with every passing second.
Another flicker.
Clearer.
A shape.
A box.
Text inside it.
Unreadable.
Then—
A word.
Not spoken.
Not heard.
Seen.
…Pending…
Arty blinked hard.
The road snapped back into full focus.
A zombie slammed into the side mirror and spun away, barely registering as more than an inconvenience compared to what had just happened.
"You saw that," he muttered.
"Saw what?" Leah asked.
He shook his head once. "Doesn't matter."
It mattered.
A lot.
He just didn't have time to explain something he didn't yet understand.
The ute cleared the worst of the immediate cluster and broke into a slightly more open stretch of road, the buildings ahead growing larger again as the residential edges gave way to heavier construction.
Warehouses.
Distribution centres.
Big steel boxes with limited access and thick walls.
Better.
Not safe.
Better.
Another buzz from his phone.
He glanced down.
Unknown.
Same as before.
The screen lit up with text.
Threshold reached.
His grip tightened on the wheel.
"Arty?" Leah said.
He didn't answer immediately.
Because the next line appeared without input.
System initialisation: pending confirmation.
The world didn't stop.
The ute kept moving.
The road kept unfolding.
Everything continued exactly as it had been.
Except it didn't.
Because now he could see it.
Not fully.
Not cleanly.
Yet more than enough.
A faint overlay sat across his vision, barely visible unless he focused on it, lines and symbols arranged in a structure his brain was only just beginning to interpret.
"Tell me you're seeing this," he said quietly.
Leah glanced at him, then back at the road. "Seeing what?"
"Nothing," he said again.
Only him.
Of course.
The pressure in his chest shifted, not discomfort, not pain, just a sense of something unlocking, like a door he hadn't known was there clicking open a fraction.
Another line appeared.
Crystals absorbed: 8
That wasn't right.
He hadn't absorbed anything.
He'd just… collected them.
Hadn't he?
His hand moved instinctively toward his pocket.
The shapes were still there.
Solid.
Real.
So what had changed?
A third line.
System boot incomplete. Additional input required.
Arty let out a slow breath.
"Of course," he murmured.
Nothing about this was going to be simple.
A shape moved ahead on the road.
He reacted instantly, swerving slightly to avoid it as another cluster spilled from between two parked trucks, their movement faster than before, more direct.
"They're getting quicker," Leah said.
"Yeah," Arty replied.
That wasn't the worst part.
The worst part was that he was getting faster too.
Not stronger.
Not yet.
Just… sharper.
More precise.
Like his timing had shifted half a second ahead of where it should have been.
The overlay flickered again.
Warning: environmental escalation detected.
"No kidding," he muttered.
Tom leaned forward, voice tight. "Warehouse up ahead, left side, big roller door, looks closed."
Arty saw it.
A large distribution building, set back behind a wide yard with a heavy sliding gate that sat partially open.
The structure itself was solid, minimal windows, thick walls, a single main entry point and a smaller personnel door beside it.
Better.
Still not perfect.
Never perfect.
"We check it," he said.
Leah nodded once. "We'll need to be quick."
"Always quick."
He swung the ute into the yard, tyres crunching over gravel as he brought it around in a tight arc, positioning it again for a fast exit if needed.
The gate behind them creaked as one of the zombies pushed against it, widening the gap just enough for more to follow.
Time.
Always time.
Arty killed the engine and stepped out, the wrench already in his hand, the overlay still flickering faintly at the edge of his vision.
System initialisation: pending…
He looked at the building.
At the door.
At the space around him.
Then back toward the road, where more shapes were already turning in their direction.
"This is it," he said quietly.
Not because it was safe.
Not because it would work.
Because he was running out of places to test.
The crystals pressed against his pocket again, heavier now, more present.
Waiting.
He could feel it.
Whatever came next—
This was where it started.
Or where it ended.
He stepped toward the door.
Behind him, the world kept coming.