"How did that happen?" I managed to hear Dad saying over the sirens.

"The generators—all of them—from Block C gave in!" Maya. "Sargent Mc. Call thinks the Outside People did it."

"What about Block C?" I stepped forward, pushing my father away and feeling Gabriel move closer to us.

"It's completely lost," he said. "The entrance collapsed and there were too many explosions inside to send in a rescue team without risking it." I felt my heart sinking all the way down to my stomach, and by the look on his face, Gabriel was just as shocked as I was.

"Send one," I ordered. "We have them for a reason, and those people need us."

The guy's expression showed apprehension, but that just made me angrier. "I'm telling you, Ms. Grey, the whole Block is probably burned down by now and there's nothing—"

"I don't care! You're assuming there's nothing, but how would you know?"

Dad's hand fell over my shoulder, keeping me from bashing his head against a wall. "Lauren."

"There might be people inside, for Christ's sake!" I looked over at him, begging for some sort of approval, but I got none. "Dad...you can't just ignore this."

"We have to get out of here, Lauren. There's no time." He looked over at the guy then, walking out the door and dragging me with him. "Call one of the jets at D when you're in A for me. Get as much people as you can into the emergency buses and drive to the station we've got in Tucson. I'll head to Ohio and sort out the rest of the things."

I took my arm back and stopped to look at him. "That's it?"

He turned around, visibly mad by now, but with the constant, loud noise from the alarms out in the tunnels, I could only read his lips. "Lauren, I am not gonna risk the lives of the rescue teams for people who I know are dead. I'm saving the ones I can, and you stalling isn't helping. If they found a way in, we don't really have time to waste. The Outside People aren't the only ones we should worry about."

"He's right, Laurie," Gabriel said, coming up behind us, and that just got him a fuming glare from my side. How could they be like that? His mouth opened again, but this time, the sound stopped completely, leaving only an echoing howl that died a few short moments after. Now I could hear the striding noises of everyone screaming and yelling, and the crowded turmoil forming ahead in the main tunnel appeared to grow by the second. "Why did the alarm stop?"

"I don't know," Dad said, and I felt my ears buzzing from the sudden silence—relative silence, at least. "Probably the backup system was affected, too." Turning to the guy, he cocked his head to the crowd. "Do what I told you, Davis."

"Yes, Sir." And with that, he was off to organize everyone, yelling and guiding them toward the second tunnel to the right. Dad didn't wait to drag Gabriel and me to the other exit, avoiding the big mass of confused people. I could hear Piper and Hugo behind us—especially Piper.

"Are they real? What if we see one?" She whispered, scared, and I knew exactly what she was talking about. "I heard you get infected with a single touch...."

"Would you shut your pie hole, Piper?" Hugo muttered, but I paid them no mind since thinking about it only made it worse.

We kept bumping into people wandering the corridors, all of them asking the same questions with the same, horrified expression: "What's happening?" "We heard an explosion—is everything okay?" "Where is everybody going?" Dad simply kept telling them to follow the connection between Block B—where we now were—and Block A until they found the rest of them.

"Where are we going?" Piper annoyingly asked, and I wondered the exact same thing. Mostly, though, I questioned why she was with us. I wanted to go off running and find someone to help me get into Block C, but instead I had to be dragged down unwillingly to Block D, the cargo area.

Leaving these people—our people—here, also seemed horribly wrong. Yes, we had a chance to help them by going to Ohio; however, doing it right after an attack on the base was unethical.

"We're headed to Block D, Ms. Smoke." He didn't turn around to address her, his feet striding down the bright corridor. "There, we will jump into one of our jets and get the hell out of here."

He hadn't finished saying that when, from somewhere inside the adjacent tunnels, a howled moan pierced the air, imposing an unconscious halt in all of us. "I say we hurry, Vincent." Hugo's words were shaky—with reason—and his old belly flopped when Dad hurried his pace.

"Was that a...?"

"Wendigo," I uttered, glaring at Piper when I stopped walking again. "Yes, it was a Wendigo. If the Outside People found a way in, they opened the door for them, too. So would you please get your shit together and keep moving before they catch up to us and kill us one by one?"

"It stinks in here," Gabriel muttered.

"And that's not a reason to stop," Dad said, frustrated. "Lauren is right. Keep moving."

Not fifty meters into the now suspiciously deserted space another moan echoed, this one followed shortly by a rending cry and the sudden entrance of a person slumping out of the dark tunnel we were passing. I had to swallow a gasp when my eyes caught the blood spewing out of their side.

"Stay back, honey," Dad said sternly, taking a step back at the same time. "We have to go."

Again, without any warning whatsoever, his hand gripped onto my forearm firmly before he started dragging me with him. Was he seriously gonna leave that person to die? I really expected Gabriel and Hugo to disagree, even Piper, but the three were following closely behind with guilty expressions plastered on their faces.

"No," I bellowed, yanking my arm away from him for the second time. "We can't just leave them here." At least I wouldn't.

"You don't know if they're infected or not!"

Ignoring my father's complains and Gabriel's useless tries to hold me back, I ran back and knelt next to the person, whom I now knew was a girl. The short hair made me doubt before, but it came across as rather obvious now that we were so close to each other. Her small chest raised and fell with short, wheezed breaths, and I knew she'd bleed to death without proper attention immediately.

Inspecting the wound thoroughly through the torn fabric, I could tell the wound was due to a knife of something with a sharp edge rather than a bite or a scratch. "She's still alive. You've gotta help me take her," I finally said, looking up to meet Gabriel's eyes since he would be the only one who had the heart to help me. "Please...."

Giving a series of short nods to the air, he started walking toward us. I helped him get her arm around his shoulder, hearing a hushed groan escape her mouth. I was just glad the poor girl didn't have full consciousness of what was going on, because that'd only complicate things. Instead, the languidness of her body allowed us to carry her easily; however, halfway back to Dad's angry expression and Piper shaking next to Hugo, another din resounded through the walls.

This time, though, it was followed by a strong vibration, which made the ground blow our feet move abruptly. My eyes darted to my father's, but he was busy gazing above us. I followed his gaze and the thrumming noise to find a crack moving quickly across the concrete. It's gonna give in.

Without having to think twice about it—not giving Gabriel enough time to realize what I was doing, either—I left the girl's weight over his shoulder entirely, pushing them to the other side of the creviced line on the roof. I wasn't able to hear Dad's yell before the stone began crumbling down and causing a thick layer of dust to cover the air.

By instinct, I reached both arms to try and protect my head from whatever debris I could, the merciless floor greeting me shortly after. Pieces or roof kept on falling for a couple more seconds, actually feeling like eons, but it all ceased as quickly as it started. One of the smaller rocks had bounced on my forehead, for sure, since I now felt a thick, warm substance oozing out of my right temple. "Crap."

I heard a voice calling my name, but with the sudden screeching sound banging on my eardrums, it seemed impossible for me to know who it belonged to until it came up again. "Lauren! Are you okay?"

Gabriel. "I'm fine," I yelled back, choking on the dust before I could say anything else.

"We're gonna get you out, baby," Dad said, and the sizzling sound of smaller rocks falling didn't seem to have stopped quite yet.

"No," I let out, pushing myself into a sitting position before taking in what surrounded me. Indeed, there was debris everywhere—not to mention the thick layer of dust and pulverized cement floating around—and the tunnel appeared to be completely blocked up. "You guys keep going! I'll go through the east corridors and meet you guys there."

Behind the barrier, I heard what sounded like a heated argument, Gabriel's voice coming out in the end. "You would have to go to the surface and walk around the electrical towers to get to Block D's outer gates. It's about two hundred meters from the emergency door. Too risky."

"Just as risky as staying here moving five hundred pounds or more of piled up concrete. I'll be fine. We'll meet there in ten. If I'm not there, you just leave without—"

"Not happening," Dad's voice cut me off, and I was already getting on my feet, wavering before I could stabilize myself completely.

"Dad, remember what you told me six years ago when we first came down here? That every decision had to be thought through and no time should be wasted?" With no reply coming from him, I chose to continue. "I'm telling you now, turn around and keep going to Block D. I'll go through the corridors and meet you there. If I haven't gotten there after ten minutes...you leave."

"I won't go without you."

I heard the now familiar wail coming from the corridors to my right—possibly my own omen of death. "Ten minutes, Dad." I sighed, pressing my hand into one of the broken stones. "I love you guys."

"Lauren," Gabriel began, but I was already walking toward the dark corridor, trying not to trip with one of the loose pipes or blocks laying around. Truly, I felt scared, as if my inner conscience knew all the odds pointed to me dying in the hands of whatever kept wailing and howling in the deep tunnels, though it was more than necessary for me to gather the small pieces of bravery I had left and keep going.

Trace your plan, I suggested in my mind, creating a distraction from the whole 'venturing-into-a-deadly-dark-corridor' situation going on.

If I kept going past the three main connections on the tunnel's sides, I'd bump into the wall. There, I'd have to turn left, toward Block C. If Davis was right and the entrance had been blocked in the attack, I would have to use the emergency door and finish the two hundred meters or so on the outside.

Fifty percent chance a Wendigo got me, and fifty percent one of the Outside People took my insides out to express their rage toward our underground community. Fabulous.

"At least nobody else is around," I murmured, relieved at people's response when it came to evacuating the place. Everyone used to ignore the alarms, shrug them off, so it was reassuring to know—or at least assume—they were all safe.

Finally reaching a brighter section in the corridor, I got to the wall. Remember, head left, reach Block C, and take the emergency exit. How hard could it be? It's a piece of cake.

However, summoning upon the jinx, to the left, deeper in the right corridor, an alerting sound pierced the air. I froze on my tracks and heard the hopeless scream echoed away as quickly as it had arrived, and that was the only sign I needed.

Without a conscious command, my legs started sprinting, prompting me forward with an only wish: get out of these tunnels—now.

I could only see so much ahead in the dim blue-lighted corridor, and it seemed as if whatever had caused the person to scream in such unimaginable pain was following me. Sounds of snapping things—bones?—and growls were combined with the thudding of my feet against the ground.

It felt like the noises produced from the shakiness in my breaths and the unintentional grunts escaping me would definitely reveal where I was, but I didn't care. I couldn't. I only wanted to get out of there, and do it alive. Luckily, though, I got to the opening, seeing Block C's entrance into the main tunnel.

As expected, just like back at the corridor where we got separated, a wall of debris—wires, cement chunks, steel tubes, reeking fumes, and gooey, unknown fluids coming out of the pipes—blocked it completely. There was clearly no way in or out.

I wanted to mourn for Maya, for my friend, give her the respect she deserved. Still, something inside of me blocked any tears and weakening emotions from entering my head. All that ran through it was dread, the constant feeling of someone—or something—following me. It kept coming back, and I couldn't help looking over my shoulder every five seconds.

Something made the pipes hum—not their pretty, regular hum but it sounded rather like a morbid symphony, announcing horrible things coming toward me. It's like my ears became sharper and my brain even more paranoid than before. I knew how to fight them. I had done it before. But what if the same thing from three months ago happened? Daniel wasn't here to protect me from death, and I could feel panic settling inside of my pounding veins. 

There was a dragging sound behind me, and so I carelessly turned around, defying my curiosity.

It was then, in the faraway corner of the other corridor, that a tall, lanky figure came into sight. With slow, bouncy steps, it rounded the wall and stood there. He, she, it, or whatever it was just stood there, head bowed down completely, as if my presence wasn't appealing enough or it wanted to remain hidden in the shadows of the blueish corridor. Soon, I knew it was no human. Rotten eggs and the distinctive scent of blood rushed through the air, claiming the creature's nature.

Taking one more step, I became aware of why it sounded like something was being dragged. One of its hands held another, which belonged to a body on the floor. The person—evidently lifeless—wore our security uniform, and my chest deflated like a slashed tire when I noticed half of their body was missing. The remains living in the Wendigo's teeth and stomach by now.

My thoughts were hindered by fear, the adrenaline inside of me breaking down with every second that passed, and there was only one thing I had to do. I didn't need to process it, because my limbs were already moving on their own. Run. Get the hell out of here.

The blood running through me diverted into my limbs instead of my gut. Where was the emergency door? I couldn't remember, but my eyes ran into the heavenly green light soon enough, showing me the way to a safer place—only thirty feet more if I ran diagonally.

Bulletproof skin, ice cold heart, only fire will allow its demise. Take good care, don't look back, it'll know when to attack. I sang the lullaby in my head, hearing it growling and shrieking behind me. One last thing, my dear child, trust yourself and... "Stay on your track." I completed the phrase just ten feet away from the door, feeling the ground shake under my feet once again.

The explosion—it couldn't be an earthquake; those didn't happen here—was shorter this time, but it certainly revealed my position when a stifled weep pushed its way out of my throat. The beast had previously localized me before, though now it seemed angered—hungry. I wanted to block the Wendigo's yowls, and I noticed them getting close.

Don't you dare turn around, Lauren, I ordered myself, but looking back wasn't necessary. The image of my attacker materialized in the reflection of the door's tempered glass before me, and I had enough time to observe the details thanks to time's distorted perspective.

Its arms and legs moved in a jelly-like synchrony, fighting to see which one went first. The creature had no lips, just a dangling, sharp tongue, which appeared to be reaching out to get a taste of its victim. However, none of these features shocked me completely. It was the white glow sealing what someday were the person's eyes that forged a quaver in me.

And time snapped again, the beast launching itself to get a piece of me into its mouth, but I acted quickly. Transferring all energy left in my body, I pushed the door's handle and felt it giving in, opening heavily to then slam shut when my hands abandoned the metal. The Wendigo's holler trespassed the heavy door behind me, but it got carried away by the now unfamiliar wind.

I had to take a moment to realize where I stood.

The ground supporting my weigh was no longer the cement I'd seen for the past months, because dried out dirt replaced it. There was a strange scent floating around. Like accumulated pollution and death, but I didn't care. My lungs felt free. They weren't restricted into filtered, artificial oxygen. Now I only had to look up. 

What if it wasn't like I remembered? Of course it wouldn't be. Every time we went seeking for supplies, I saw it changed a little it more. But—what if it was worse? It had been a long time since I'd set foot outside, and so the intrigue killed me. Perhaps death in the hands of that Wendigo would've been better...though I couldn't be sure. Not until I took a good look of it.

And so I did.

At first impression, I could tell the waves of heat had affected the place more. The desert I was now a completely dried out wasteland—even more than before. All buildings were decayed, their structure appearing as if they would give in at any second now.

I also noticed the sky above me. Gabriel came into my room in the morning, meaning it had to be daylight...but how? The memory of sunlight's heat brushing my skin was now replaced by an insolent, dark grey. Like the star that once gave us life and warmth had brightened out.

The way I remembered this place—the desert in the background, its decently green plains, all those small convenience stores where Gabriel and I bought snacks after school—the way I remember Phoenix...got destroyed. It morphed into a scorched, ghost town, where the recklessly brave people and devils roamed.  

Now I understood why everyone down there called it Hell. If there once was a God—because came across as useless to think he, she, or whatever it was remained alive—and the Devil and Hell were real, this vast, burnt out place would be it.

People ran around, seemingly disregarding my presence as if something else was keeping them busy. I saw their clothing—ragged shirts and worn-out outfits—and recognized them immediately: Outside People. For so long I'd heard my mother describing their lifestyle, how these weren't the same people who lived with us before the world fell into catastrophe ten years ago.

Their brain adapted to survive, and so seeing them all striding and running around while they yelled things I didn't quite catch shocked me. Their behavior mirrored the one of an army, moving in previously planned strategies with some crafted weapons or even guns depending on the person.

Without wasting any more time, and feeling a foreign pair of eyes on me, I started walking—not fast enough so that people thought I was running—along the perimeter of the communication towers' building, hoping to see Block D's main gates ready to take me back into safety. Truly, I did feel exposed out here. Not only to the Virus or possible attacks, but on the merciless memories coming my way. 

I kept my head low, every inch of me focusing on not calling any attention and staying as unnoticed as I could. My uniform acted against me, but there was nothing I could do. Keep walking. Don't stop. Dad and Gabriel are waiting for you there. Risking a short glance up, I encountered the giant, steeled doors that were now opened completely.

Relief invaded me, but some fear remained. The Outside People were gathering up before them, yelling and threatening our armed officers inside with their weapons, and I had no idea how I'd go around them in order to get in.

I needed to be inside, though. It was a do or die situation. I just had to come up with a plan. Perhaps if I keep right, toward the second tower, I can reach—

But I couldn't finish my thought, a raging pain shot in the back of my head and caused me to slump on the ground. I wanted to let out a squeal, alert someone, but it got muffled by the dirt below.

Promptly, a strange hand forced my body to turn so that I was looking up at the sky. Things were blurry, and I remained unsure if it was due to the blow I'd received or the tears welling up in my eyes. "Dear God in the mornin', what have we got here, huh?" This came from the silhouette that now towered above me.

It had to be a man for sure—approximately thirty or forty years of experience carried in him. Highlighted in my mind, however, was the fact that his accent came out thick, a clear indicator of his rarity to the place.

"S'One of 'em, Bones," another male voice replied, this one sounding older, raucous.

"How much ya think we could earn from 'er?" Bones inquired, his face starting to take form in my eyes. His head was bold, a tattoo running all the way from the left side of his head to the shoulder line—tribal, from what I could gather. His nose appeared as overly grown to its sides, and there was something about his thin lips and tight jaw that scared the shit out of me.

"Big ol' reward, probably. But hey, I sure wouldn't mind gettin' as high as a Georgia pine on her." The guy, whose name remained a mystery for me, laughed, a dry croak that was way too loud for anyone to hear.

I wanted to scream, kick one of them and risk a run out of there, but whatever they'd used to hit me was horribly effective. Bones knelt down next to me, his putrid breath brushing the skin of my cheek when I tried looking the other way. "Somethin' wrong, Sunshine?" Obligating me to look at him again, he got closer. "I'll give ya a good reason to be scared."

Without warning, one of his hands pressed down tightly over my mouth while he trailed the other toward my jumpsuit's zipper. I fought to squirm away, kick him in any way I could, but the other guy retrained me. The tears that had been welling up poured out, and the voice inside my head kept repeating the same thing over and over: this is how you die.

Why was no one helping me? Because they hate your people.

Why didn't anyone notice? Because they don't care.

Why did this happen? Because no one was really safe. Tough luck.

I felt my pulse in the side of my throat, pounding in a dangerous rate, and under the grip of his strong hands. He moved the zipper slowly, dragging the inevitable—perhaps he wanted me to suffer more. The scent of his breath mixed with an old friend of mine. I smelled it perfectly. Fear reeked.

But then, it was gone. His hands, the pressure restraining me, it all vanished. My eyes shot open, and I did the best I could to squirm until the wall came in contact with my back. There, I could pull the zipper up back to its place with shaky hands, seeing what happened before me.

Blood. It was everywhere, the dense fingers flowing in all directions from a bigger pool, and I lifted my gaze to encounter its main source. A bodiless head lay there, roughly seven feet away from me.

Unlike Bones, the guy's hair was long, evidently untrimmed, and grease appeared to be accumulating in it. The prominent frown line captured a shocked expression, and something about the way his eyes were opened widely—as if he remained alive for some seconds after the invisible death had supposedly taken him—made my stomach turn.

Next to it, I found the rest of his body, but something else drew me away from the sickening image displayed there: a scream. This time, I did recognize Bones, struggling and throwing punches at something relentlessly, and so the second figure came into sight. As tall as the one from back at the tunnel, one of them stood in front of him, almost as if it bounced on its own self.

Each time he tried attacking the Wendigo, the creature moved away swiftly, toying with the victim in the usual sadistic nature they were programmed with. This one, though, had a different body structure.

Unlike the ones I'd seen, its height wasn't as exaggerated, nor were its limbs. They didn't end in sharp hands and razor-like talons. These looked decently similar to the regular human ones, and, thanks to the bareness, I was allowed to see how the Wendigo's back was only starting to deform. Like it hadn't been that long since the person became infected. The Virus had been around for two years or so now, and I roughly calculated half of that in age for this one.

"Come and get me, ya little shit!" Bones spat, his body suddenly appearing too weak. Almost like he knew fighting against one of them was pointless. They were creatures born to hunt, kill. As if the beast had had enough of the attitude, it launched itself at Bones. He couldn't react. Before a single scream managed to get out, I saw his head rolling over to meet the one of his friend.

I gagged involuntarily, getting into a crawling position when the bile inside of me started climbing back up. My arms shook under their own weigh, and the more I tried to get up, run, or even scream, I froze. Fear consumed every single one of the cells in me, swelling them with a horrible terror of what awaited me. I was next. My head would join the pile.

I heard the dirt ruffle behind me, its low growls mixing in with the continuous yells that came from all directions around us. No one stopped or turned their heads. They ran further away, holding the hand-crafted weapons and heading to the gates, to where I was supposed to be.

One step, two steps, each time getting closer. The thing could probably sense my fear, feeding off of it. I heaved and heaved with each erratically short breath I took until, finally, its thin outline's shadow appeared in the corner of my eye. My eyes closed, waiting for the hands to grab me, but a second went by, then another, then one more, all turning into what was probably the most excruciating minute of my existence.

Did death work this way? You blocked it off so your body and mind could go numb?

"Lau...ren." The name lingered in the air for a while, and I was sure my eyes would pop if I dared open them more.

I'd definitely heard that—hadn't I?

The creature appeared to slouch next to me, its fisted, bony hands pressing down the dirt below us. The way I caught it moving though my peripheral vision, like it crawled without any necessity to support the weight of its body, was unreal. And then the words came out again, perfectly clear. "Lauren."

Regardless of what my brain told me to do—take a chance and run away—I risked a full glance, staring into a pair of glowing, white eyes. "How...?" I breathed, begging my heart not to stop when I recognized those unmistakable factions.

Complete deformity hadn't taken over his face yet, jawline still chiseled and nose slightly crooked. I knew those lips, which would spend pursed half of the time with mockery or chivalry, and the bareness of his body finished giving it away. The same tattoo—a double set of bands going around the upper arm—was the only cue I needed.

My stomach twisted, as if someone took it and gave it a good squish. "Daniel."