The sky hung low and heavy, a deep, oppressive grey that seemed to swallow the world whole. The windshield wipers of the fire truck squeaked with a monotonous rhythm as Zane gripped the steering wheel. The road ahead was barely visible through the darkness.

In the backseat, Yara stared out the window, her brows furrowed, while Talia fiddled with a worn out string tied around her wrist.

Food had grown increasingly scarce with each passing day, and the pressure was mounting. Talia had been hiding a secret from the others in The Bubble—a small garden where she grew crops for the fire department staff. But, with their food supply running low, they knew they needed to find more.

Now they were out in the middle of nowhere—driving down rural roads that twisted through the countryside. They were searching for anything: food, survivors, answers. But all they'd found were old homes—abandoned husks with brown windows and doorways that sagged like frowns.

They passed a shack that looked like it had been dragged halfway to hell and left to rot. Outside, a rusted tricycle lay tangled in thick weeds.

Talia's voice broke through the silence. "Wait, I think I see something!"

Zane eased off the gas. Up ahead, half-hidden behind vines and tall grass, stood a small, weather-beaten house. The brown siding was chipped, and the shingles were missing in places.

He turned off the fire truck, and silence fell.

They stepped out, their shoes crunching on loose gravel and leaves. As they approached the house, Yara raised her fist and began pounding on the front door.

"Yara," Zane stepped forward and pulled her back. "Let's not scare people off."

Before he could say another word, the door creaked open with a groan, and a figure appeared in the dim light beyond.

A girl stood in the doorway, her silhouette framed by a yellowish glow of a single lightbulb behind her. She held a wooden broom in her hand like a weapon. Her long strawberry-blonde hair was pulled in a loose braid, and her piercing green eyes locked onto Zane's with suspicion.

"Who are you?" she asked sharply.

"We're from the fire department!" Talia exclaimed with a smile.

"We were searching for people," Zane added.

There was a long pause. Then the girl stepped back slightly and opened the door wider. "Come in. But don't touch anything."

Inside, the house smelled faintly of artificial peach. Newspapers had been taped over the windows, filtering the light into a dim yellow hue. The kitchen was small, cluttered with used dishes, canned food, and old medical textbooks stacked beside a microwave.

"I'm Hanna Bevan," she introduced herself, tone still cautious. "And that's my twin brother, Conner," she added, nodding toward the living room.

A boy sat on the couch. He had the same pale freckles and green eyes—but his jaw was sharper, his expression hard. His arms were folded tightly across his chest, and his stare never left them.

"You've stayed here this whole time?" Zane asked.

Hanna nodded. "Our mom is a nurse. She left to help at the hospital for her evening shift. Took the car and never came back."

Zane's interest sparked at the mention of their mother's profession. "Do either of you know anything about medicine?"

"Does it matter?" Conner snapped, his tone edged with bitterness.

Conner didn't seem too pleased with their unexpected arrival, and Zane had a feeling he would prevent Hanna from helping at the infirmary.

"Our town nurse got shot," Yara blurted out. "Now it's just Emma and Cindy. Emma doesn't know much about medicine, but she has a healing power. Cindy's barely around anymore."

Hanna's eyes widened. She didn't speak at first—just looked between the three of them, her face tightening. Even Conner's arms dropped a little from their defensive fold.

"Shot?" she finally whispered.

Zane swallowed hard. The room felt small all of a sudden. They probably shouldn't have mentioned Melany's death. The last thing they needed was for people to find out there was a murderer in town when they needed medical help.

"We aren't force anyone," Zane said calmly. "But we could really use the help."

"Why was she shot?" Conner demanded.

"Some dude named Luke from Uden Academy did it because he's crazy" Yara said, her voice laced with disgust. "He beat people up and stole from Foodland."

"If he kills again, Greyson will probably murder him," Talia muttered.

Luke was dangerous—Zane had seen the damage firsthand—and it was only a matter of time before he acted again.

"Emma's gonna break down if you help," Talia said.

"She'll cry?" Hanna repeated.

"Emma gets easily stressed when it comes to healing people," Yara clarified, shrugging her shoulders.

"And she can heal with her hand?" Conner questioned.

"She can heal gashes and even broken bones all with just a touch," Talia explained. "You guys got powers?"

"No, but I think Conner does," Hanna said, stepping back. "Show them."

Conner lips twisted in a frown, but he rose to his feet. He knelt down and pressed his palm against the laminate kitchen floor. A low rumble vibrated beneath their feet. The tiles shifted and warped, sinking inward, until a small hole appeared in the floor.

"Whoa..." Yara breathed. "Isn't that what Ashley does?"

"No," Zane said. "This is different. It's like he's applying pressure, not opening spaces."

"There are others?" Hanna asked.

"Yeah," Talia replied. "Greyson moves stuff with his mind. Esme runs faster than light. Jason shoots burning lasers from his hands. Jade can freeze things."

Hanna exchanged a look with her brother. "We've missed a lot."

"Fifteen and older had vanished," Yara said, looking around. "Then a girl showed up creating fires and holes. I'm pretty sure she died."

"We should go. We barely have any food left," Hanna sighed.

The two of them didn't seem to have as much food as they had. Mostly living off of canned food or even finding the occasional granola bar. It wasn't that they could go shopping or even understand how to harvest crops from fields.

"We'll go, but where will we stay?" Hanna asked.

"There are a lot of empty houses, and people bunk with each other," Yara said.

"We stay at the fire department because there is a separate area for sleeping," Talia chimed in.

"We can just live in random houses?" Hanna asked, frowning.

"Isn't that illegal?" Conner scoffed, his hands on his hips.

"There are no laws anymore," Yara replied, flashing a peace sign.

Hanna sighed. "Give us five minutes."

Zane watched as the two of them gathered supplies. Conner pulled out a duffel bag and stuffed in little canned food remained. Hanna emerged with a larger bag: books, flashlights, a first-aid kit, and an old pink iPod Nano.

"Oh my gosh!" Yara exclaimed. "Does it still work?"

Hanna held the pink iPod in her hand. "I used to listen to music on it, but it stopped working," she said.

"Still that's awesome," Talia said, grinning. "All we've got are scratched-up CDs."

"Got enough food?" Yara asked.

"Can we go to the infirmary first?" Hanna asked, adjusting the strap of her bag.

"Yeah," Zane said. "It's on the way."

"Finally," Yara muttered. "I swear we've been driving through horror-movie cornfields for hours."

Talia climbed in behind her, smiling faintly. "At least it wasn't a clown."

Conner didn't smile. He shut the door harder than necessary, eyes flickering between them.

When they arrived at the infirmary, it was eerily quiet. Zane's mind raced as he thought about whether Jason had been able to find Cindy. Despite their warm sweaters, the air inside was unnaturally cold.

Opening the church door, Hanna and Conner went in first. "It's downstairs," Zane announced.

They looked around as if it had been ages since they had last seen the place. Inside the infirmary, a young boy was trembling uncontrollably while Emma lay asleep on the floor. Cindy was nowhere to be found to assist.

Mark burst out of the small bathroom, carefully picking up Emma. "Yo, Zane," he greeted.

Emma's eyes fluttered open, her body swaying as she fought to keep her balance. "Please don't tell me they broke a bone," she croaked, her voice raspy with exhaustion. She staggered and knelt beside the boy, placing a hand on his chest.

"We searched and found two people alone," Zane said.

Mark questioned, "Alone?"

"Hanna actually has something to ask Emma," Zane explained.

Hanna strode towards Emma, who lay with her head back on the opposite cot. "Zane said you don't know much about medicine," she said.

"I'm just the healer," Emma explained, gesturing with her hand.

"I know a lot about medicine, and so does my brother. I'm willing to help you," Hanna offered.

Emma seemed frozen and unable to process Hanna's words. "Help me?" Her voice quivered with tears in her eyes. "Thank you! I can't do it alone; I keep falling asleep on the floor."

The door slammed open. Jason staggered in, chest heaving, garbage bags rustling like dry leafs.

"We have a problem," he gasped. "The snow is burning people!"

Zane's stomach twisted. He scrambled back up the steps and pushed the door wide. Outside, the world had dissolved into white chaos. A blizzard tore through the plaza, wind lashing like claws.

Shapes staggered through the white chaos—some crawling, some screaming. Wherever the snow touched exposed skin, it sizzled.

Esme appeared next, moving faster than humanly possible, dragging victims through the storm. Their coughs tore through the cold air, wet and violent, their lips streaked with blood.

Zane swallowed hard. Every second they hesitated meant another person collapsing in the snow.

"Emma!" Esme called as she hurried down the stairs and placed them on the cots.

"Put buckets or garbage bins near their cots," Hanna ordered. "This isn't just any regular cold."

Scarlett squinted into the blizzard as the SUV inched toward town, its engine growling like it had something to prove. She'd peeled off her bulky snowsuit the moment the heat kicked in, but the second she stepped outside, she'd be sealed to suffocating layers.

Still, Greyson wanted James, and Scarlett had a plan to get him—one that didn't involve playing by the rules.

The storm felt like mid-January's final breath, and the wind seemed to be creating some type of illness.

As they pulled up behind an abandoned bank, Scarlett spotted them—bodies sprawled across the snow, half-swallowed by the whiteout, frozen stiff like discarded mannequins.

"This is bad," Preston muttered from the passenger seat.

"Really? I thought we were here to celebrate," she said dryly.

Scarlett reached in the back and grabbed her gear: a heavy black snowsuit, thick gloves, and a black tuque.

She pulled her scarf over her mouth and nose, tugged her hood tight, and zipped everything up, leaving her eyes visible. When she looked in the mirror, she noticed the dark purple eyeshadow she put on for disguise was still on.

If James was anywhere, it would be at Party Culture—the so-called end-of-the-world club where denial served as the strongest drink.

The second she opened the SUV door, the wind slammed into her—a brick wall of cold that stole the air from her lungs and bit at a tiny strip of skin near her eyebrow.

Snow slapped her coat, sneaking under her collar. She slammed the door behind her, pressing her hand to the bank's cold brick as she moved forward, fighting against the storm.

Preston disappeared into the storm, his orange snowsuit a fleeting blur against the white chaos, diving deeper into the blizzard in search of James.

As she approached the Party Culture, she pulled open the door.

Music pounded from half-broken speakers. The smell hit first—alcohol, wet coats, and body odour. People sat in booths. Jackets and scarves littered the tables. Someone was dancing with a broken chair.

Scarlett peeled off her gloves and slid into an empty booth, the snow quickly melting on her sleeves, leaving behind wet streaks. Her eyes swept the room—no sign of James yet.

Greyson had given her a deadline to get James today. She knew that James had settled in Simcoe while helping Jason, but she didn't have any other information.

Nevaeh approached Scarlett's booth with her head cocked. "Did you hear about the virus and the burns caused by the storm?" she asked.

Scarlett raised an eyebrow. "James come by often?"

"Sometimes," Nevaeh replied with a shrug, eyes glinting. "Usually with Jason."

Scarlett knew Nevaeh was a gossip machine, one who could read people's thoughts. If this gossip girl thrived on drama, it was only natural that she would be eager to help with a scheme.

"Bored yet?" Scarlett asked, smirking, tapping her fingers on the table.

Nevaeh let out a dramatic sigh, rolling her eyes. "Same old, same old. So... yeah."

Scarlett leaned in. "I need to find James. You in?"

Nevaeh raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. "Details?"

Scarlett lips curled into a wicked smirk. "Only the juicy kind."

Nevaeh slid into the booth with feline grace. "But come on. Can I at least see your face?"

Scarlett slowly pulled down her scarf, just enough to reveal her mouth before covering back up.

Nevaeh's eyes widened, and a sly smile crept across her lips. "Why do you need James?" she asked.

"We don't want Jason to find out," Scarlett said with a sly smirk.

Suddenly, the lights and music died in unison. Nevaeh glanced around, her eyes catching the irritated murmurs of the crowd.

Scarlett spotted a crack of light slicing through the darkness from the open door, Nevaeh's silhouette moving toward it.

"What happened?" someone grumbled.

"The electricity is out," Nevaeh called, flicking the light switch on and off.

She turned to talk to someone, her hand gesturing toward the booth. In the darkness, Scarlett spotted James' shadow, and a smirk tugged her lips.

"Take a seat," she said with an inviting tone.

He hesitated, then walked over slowly. "Scarlett?"

"We've discovered something interesting, James," Scarlett said, resting an elbow on the table.

"I'm not doing anything for Greyson," James spat, his arms crossed defensively.

Scarlett leaned in. "It's bigger than Greyson, James. You could fix the whole electrical grid on your own. No one telling you what to do," she said softly, caressing his cheek.

She knew this was an opportunity James wouldn't pass up. With the storm tearing apart the power grid, he'd rather fix than sit idle by. The puzzle would gnaw at him until he couldn't resist.

"And I get to run it?" James asked quietly.

She nodded. "All you."

"We'll either get burned alive or catch that virus," he explained.

"We've got winter gear just for you," Scarlett purred.

James glanced between her and Nevaeh, uncertainty still clouding his expression. "My computer is at home," he muttered under his breath.

"Alright, let's move," Scarlett said, standing and zipping her coat back up.

James was already half-dressed in winter gear, standing near the front door. From the shadows, Nevaeh nodded back at Scarlett.

They sprinted through the blizzard, dodging snowdrifts and slick ice patches. James yanked the passenger door open, climbing in with a hurried grunt. Scarlett followed, slammed the door, the force of the wind almost pushing her back out.

Preston became visible, his arms full of canned peaches."Someone caught me and started chasing me with a broom," he muttered, flopping into the back seat.

"Where is your computer?" Scarlett asked as she started the engine.

James's face flushed a deep red. "It's at 23 Main Street."

Scarlett glanced through the frost-covered windows, watching snow come down harder now. She floored the gas, following James's directions until they stopped in front of a small grey house, its roof nearly swallowed by snowdrifts.

James rushed inside, disappearing into the snowstorm.

Scarlett stared at the door, unease creeping through her at the snow blistering her skin or infecting her. It was an unsettling thought, but she pushed it down. She enjoyed taking risks, but only to a certain extent.

James returned, practically diving into the SUV, his coat bulging with the weight of the laptop. "Is the electricity out at Uden Academy?" he questioned.

"How do we get it back?" Preston asked.

"We'd need to go to the main power station—basically the town's generator hub. I think there's one outside Simcoe," James explained.

While Greyson had his own plans for James, Scarlett wasn't about to let that derail her plan. She needed the power back, even if it was just for a brief moment. Maybe the power plant outside Simcoe might hold the key to getting it back.

Scarlett's lips curled into a smirk. "We'll talk to Greyson."

She could already picture Luke's fury when he found out James had returned. The last time they crossed paths, James had knocked him out with that super strength he'd developed in The Bubble.

She could mock him all she wanted, but she knew Luke was itching to slap her with his noodle arm—quick like a whip. She'd seen him whip a couple of people who'd made snide comments about his eyebrows, causing bloody wounds.

As they neared Uden Academy, the snow-covered ground was littered with half-frozen puddles of blood and vomit.

They rushed inside, the violent winds slamming into their backs as they pushed through the door. Maverick stood near the entrance, his hand on his hip.

As Scarlett unzipped her heavy coat, it felt like a breath of fresh air but still chilly. She removed her snow pants and walked into Greyson's office, where she noticed that the electricity was out.

"Why is the electricity out?" Greyson demanded, rising to his feet.

"James told me that he was going to repair it," Scarlett explained.

"We need to go to the power plant," Greyson said, looking at all of them.

Bella curled up on the sofa, the soft red blanket wrapped tightly around her like a shield. Candlelight flickered against the walls, casting long, restless shadows that made the room feel even smaller.

The chill in the air bit through her double socks and into her toes, while the faint scent of pumpkin spice filled the space.

Jason had been gone for what felt like hours, off doing his usual rounds, trying to keep peace and make sure everyone was getting along—or at least pretending to.

She sighed and reached for something—anything—to pass the time. Her fingers brushed against a thick photo album resting on the coffee table.

As she flipped through, she stumbled upon faded pictures of a family she didn't recognize.

She stood, the blanket still draped over her shoulders like a cape, and shuffled into the kitchen.

The fridge had long since died, and the power was out everywhere.

She found mushy green beans left in a small bowl on the grey counter.

She longed for chicken strips. Real food.

Instead, all they had were canned vegetables, expired soup, and the occasional box of stale crackers—nothing that could fill the emptiness inside and out.

Ever since Teagan's death, everything felt heavier.

Bella hadn't processed it. The grief came in waves, sudden and suffocating. Sometimes it hit in the middle of the night. Sometimes while she brushed her hair. Sometimes for no reason at all.

The memories lingered, still sharp enough to ache in her chest.

Especially the one of their beach trip—the day the waves had knocked her over and sent her top flying off, Teagan laughing as she helped her up.

CRACK.

The front door suddenly swung open with a deafening crack, making her jump.

Cold air rushed in like a slap to the face, and she spun around.

Jason stumbled in, weighed down by heavy boots and snow-dusted winter gear.

She quickly rushed over, pressing her body against the door to shut it with a thud.

"It's bad," Jason panted, his breath visible in the cold air, his nose reddened with small burns.

Bella stared at him, her eyes wide. "What happened?"

"It's the storm," Jason said, his voice strained as he unzipped his coat with trembling fingers. "The power's out all over town. The wind knocked down a bunch of hydro poles. And this snow? It burns your skin. There was one girl—she stuck her tongue out to catch a flake. It blistered almost instantly."

Her stomach turned. That wasn't natural. It sounded like something straight out of a horror movie—the kind she used to watch with popcorn, not something they were actually living through.

"There's something going around," Jason said, voice tight. "People are getting sick... really sick. Some are burning up, some freezing, and—" He swallowed. "Nobody knows what it is."

"Do you at least know how to get the power back on?" Bella asked. "We won't last long without heat."

She knew people could only survive so long without heat in this kind of cold. Same with starvation or dehydration—your body could last, but not for long.

"Zane and the fire department are gathering blankets for the sick and injured," Jason said, his voice tight. "There's a new nurse, Hanna. She's helping Emma. I'm trying to track down Cindy, but the snow's making it impossible to see. And I'm pretty sure Preston stole more cans from Foodland. Maybe James knows how to get the power back on, but I haven't seen him yet."

"You should stay inside. It's safer," Bella urged.

Jason's safety mattered more than the town. More than the fire department. More than whatever hero complex had suddenly taken over him.

"No, I have to help. I can't just sit back while everything's falling apart," Jason insisted.

"Zane and Mark can handle it. They've got Esme, Jade, and the others to help," she shot back.

They argued about this constantly—she begged him to stay, and he insisted on helping everyone else first.

Whether it was someone in trouble, or the shortage of food, he never listened to her.

"Bella, I have to help," Jason reasoned, his voice softer now. "It's not just about gathering warmth. We need to find the sick and the burned—there's so much snow, and soon we'll be walking through mountains of it."

Bella didn't believe him.

They'd never faced that much snow before. If they did, they wouldn't even be able to leave the house.

It was just a snowstorm, and staying inside was the only thing that made sense.

"Can't someone else do it?" Bella pleaded.

"I need to use my power to melt some of the snow, to clear path. People have died just from being left in the cold," Jason explained.

"That's exactly why you shouldn't go," Bella shot back.

"Bella, I have to help. I know you don't like me taking charge, but this is bigger than us," Jason sighed.

Bella scowled, narrowing her eyes in frustration as he ignored her.

Jason placed a hand on her shoulder, but she didn't even look him. She stared past him instead, arms crossed so tightly it almost hurt.

"Listen, I love you, okay? But, I have to do this," Jason said, zipping up his green coat and pressing a kiss on her forehead. "Try to gather the blankets and stay warm. There should be more candles or flashlights around here, too."

She stepped back, a chill running through her as the cold air rushed in.

Jason pulled up his hood and gripped the door with one hand, unlocking it with a quiet click.

"I'll be back later!" Jason called, slamming the door shut behind him as she hurried to lock it.

She stood there, fists clenched beneath the blanket.

First Teagan.

Now Jason, charging out into the blizzard and sickness like it didn't matter.

He used to stay with her.

Just two months ago, he hardly ever left the house.

Now, out of nowhere, he was rushing off to save the whole town again.

She turned and shuffled back to the couch. She curled into the red blanket like a fortress, hoping it would keep the world out.

If he wanted to play hero, fine.

But she wasn't going to pretend it didn't tear something open inside her every time he walked out that door.

Party Culture had opened a month ago, and now everyone was obsessed.

Nevaeh ran it like some nightclub queen, throwing parties amidst the chaos.

Bella couldn't stand watching people laugh and dance with their friends as if everything was fine.

Nevaeh had started calling her "housewife" behind her back—apparently because she was always cooking, cleaning, and staying home like some 1950s sitcom character. Bella didn't care. Someone had to hold down the fort.

Jason was the leader, and Zane handling the fire department. Emma and Esme often did their own thing, along with Jade, who Bella didn't know well.

She pressed her lips together, a thought gnawing at her—any of them could develop feelings for Jason.

It's not that she's using him for her protection. No, it's not about possession—it was about wanting him all to herself. She was just looking out for him, trying to warn him about the danger he couldn't see.

New characters and changes to people from grief.

Do you think Bella is using Jason?

-Lexi