The Hummer's cabin hummed with silence, the weight of exhaustion pressing on both of them. The black-stained road stretched ahead, sun glaring down from its high perch. Eli's knuckles were tight around the steering wheel, and Paolo leaned against the passenger door, eyes half-lidded, the old baton still across his lap even though the fight was behind them.
The dash screen lit up, a sharp chime slicing through the hush. Eli froze, his breath catching. One hand lifted, steady but tense, and he tapped the receiver icon on the glowing tablet display.
The caller ID stared back at him in stark letters: Dad.
"Eli," came the voice on the other end—deep, clipped, steady. His father's.
"Sir." Eli's throat tightened. He hadn't said that word in years, not like this.
"Location." The general's voice carried authority like steel.
"East sector road," Eli replied. "Heading to the evac site."
A pause. Static filled the gap before his father spoke again. "Report."
Eli drew in a slow breath. His eyes flicked to Paolo, who was listening now, face unreadable.
"We made it out of the hospital. Casualties everywhere. I… encountered things. Creatures. Not human anymore."
"You mean infected."
"No," Eli said, jaw tightening. "Not just infected. We've been calling them obscurants."
Silence hummed through the line, static threading through the background. "Define," his father said.
"They move fast. Stronger than they should be. Skin pale, marked with black veins—like tar under the surface. Eyes clouded, all black. They don't stop unless you break them."
His grip on the wheel tightened. "I've faced nine of them so far. The first one—on the hospital rooftop—I ran. No fight, just survival. Another one, at the gate—we hit it with the Hummer. I don't know if it died. We didn't stay to find out."
"And the others?"
"I fought them," Eli said evenly. Each breath pulled against his ribs. "I barely survived."
The line carried only static for a moment, long enough for Paolo to glance at Eli, worry etched across his features.
Finally, his father spoke again. "Nine encounters in a few days. That's not a coincidence. That's a pattern."
"I know," Eli murmured.
"You sound… compromised."
"I'm bleeding, ribs are bruised. But I'm stable." He added, quieter, "I had help."
There was the barest shift in the general's tone, a shade softer though no less firm. "Who?"
Eli's eyes flicked to Paolo, who stared back, tense under the weight of being mentioned. "Someone I saved," Eli said at last. "And he's saving me back."
The silence stretched again. Then the general exhaled slowly. "You'll need to keep your head clear, Eli. Sentiment clouds judgment."
"It's not sentiment," Eli said, voice steady now. "It's survival. Two against the dark is better than one."
"Good," his father said. "Then survive. And remember: if what you say is true, the military will classify these obscurants as high-threat. You did well to name them. Words shape the way men fight."
The line clicked, then went dead.
Paolo broke the silence first. "He didn't even ask if you were okay."
Eli's lips twitched into a faint smirk, though it never reached his eyes. "That was him asking."
Paolo huffed, somewhere between disbelief and sympathy. "Some way to show it."
Eli glanced at the empty horizon ahead. "That's the only way he knows."
The road stretched on—sun glaring, asphalt shimmering. Neither spoke again.
The road opened ahead, rows of shuttered shops and half-toppled signboards lining either side. The gas station came into view—a modest place, its bright paint faded but not ruined, the pumps still standing like lonely sentries. No fire, no broken glass, no bodies scattered across the concrete.
Eli slowed the Hummer, eyes narrowing as he scanned the forecourt. His grip on the wheel never relaxed. "Stay sharp."
"I am," Paolo said, though his voice was tight. His gaze swept the station windows, the roofline, the empty spaces between the pumps. He clenched the arnis stick across his lap, his leg bouncing with nervous energy.
Eli pulled to a stop near the edge of the lot. He killed the engine but left the key ready. The silence that followed was sharp enough to sting.
"Clear?" Paolo asked.
Eli didn't answer right away. He slipped his knife free, checked the reflection on the side mirror for movement, then leaned forward, scanning angles the windshield couldn't show. After a long breath, he said, "Looks clear enough. But nothing's ever clear."
He opened the door slowly, letting the hinge creak. "Keep watch. If anything moves, you yell."
Paolo nodded, throat bobbing. "Got it." He shifted in his seat, craning to see every angle he could from his position, heart hammering.
Eli moved to the back, lifting the boot. From beneath the folded tarp and toolkit, he dragged out a black gasoline jug.
"Are you really gonna siphon gas?" Paolo called out, keeping his voice low.
"Yes," Eli replied without looking back. He carried the jug toward the pump, every step measured, arnis stick resting across his forearm.
Paolo frowned. "But this thing's electric. You said it yourself."
"It's hybrid," Eli corrected, crouching to check the pump's condition. His hands moved quickly, pulling the nozzle, testing the resistance. "Gas is still a resource. Better to stock it now while we can."
Paolo's fingers tapped nervously on the doorframe. His eyes never stopped moving, tracing rooftops, shadows, even the flutter of a loose banner caught in the breeze. Every sound made him twitch.
"You think anyone else will come here?" he asked.
Eli adjusted the nozzle into the jug. "Eventually. Places like this won't stay untouched."
"And if those… obscurants get drawn by the smell?"
"Then we leave." Eli's answer was calm, clipped, as if he'd already thought it through a hundred times.
The jug began to fill with a faint gurgle. Paolo's palms sweated. He wiped them against his jeans, eyes locked on the far corner of the station lot where shadows pooled.
"Still clear?" Eli asked without turning.
Paolo swallowed hard. "Yeah. For now." He tightened his grip on the arnis stick anyway.
Minutes stretched, the jug growing heavier in Eli's hand. Paolo's breathing quickened with each tick of silence, the weight of responsibility pressing on him as hard as the splint on his leg.
At last, Eli capped the jug and lifted it carefully. "That's enough." He scanned the station one more time before heading back.
Paolo let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. "Never thought I'd be this relieved to see someone carrying gas."
Eli stowed the jug beneath the tarp again, closing the boot with a muted thud. He climbed back into the driver's seat, his movements steady, precise.
Paolo looked at him, lips thinning. "You always act like it's just routine. Like, none of this rattles you."
Eli started the engine, the hum filling the silence. "It rattles me," he said simply. "I just don't show it."
The Hummer rolled forward again, pulling them back onto the road. The station shrank in the mirrors, swallowed by the sun's glare. The road ahead burned empty and endless.