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Chapter 22 — The Ones Who Wait
The air beyond the checkpoint felt strange — thick with diesel, sweat, and fear.
Floodlights cast harsh white beams across the tarmac, catching the dust kicked up by boots and tires. Soldiers barked orders, their voices echoing through the cold night air.
The airport's terminal was gone beneath the noise — tents now stood where baggage counters once were. Military trucks lined the runway, engines idling, the smell of fuel heavy in the air.
Carter followed the woman through the crowd, his heartbeat still ragged.
Every few seconds, another shout went up behind them — someone being pulled out of line, dragged toward a separate tent. People didn't ask questions anymore. They just looked away.
He tried not to.
Inside the cleared zone, chaos had taken a quieter shape. Families huddled near crates, people called names over the hum of generators, and soldiers moved between them, handing out water and empty assurances.
Carter's eyes swept the crowd — and stopped.
"Mom?"
For a second, he thought he imagined her.
But then she turned, eyes wide, and the world snapped back into focus.
"Carter?"
He ran. She met him halfway, arms wrapping around him so tight he thought she'd never let go.
"Oh, thank God," she whispered against his shoulder. "I thought they—" Her voice cracked. "I thought they took you."
"I'm fine," he said, breathless. "I made it through the gate."
She pulled back, scanning his face like she couldn't quite believe it. "They said survivors were still coming in… I kept looking for you."
He managed a shaky smile. "Guess I made you wait a few hours too long."
Her eyes glistened. "A few hours felt like forever."
For a moment, it almost felt safe — until a muffled scream cut through the air near the checkpoint.
Soldiers were dragging a man out of the line. His voice broke as he shouted something Carter couldn't make out.
People nearby turned their faces away. The soldiers didn't stop.
Carter swallowed hard. "Mom… what happens to the ones they take?"
She hesitated, glancing toward the woman standing a few feet behind him. "No one knows. They just say it's for… secondary screening."
The woman — calm as ever — watched the crowd, her gaze distant.
Carter frowned. "You said your name lets you speak to everyone. Why tell me that?"
"Because you'll understand soon," she said quietly.
His mother shot her a wary look. "Who is she?"
Before he could answer, the floodlights flickered. A low hum rippled through the air — deep, almost alive. The crowd stilled.
From the checkpoint, another person was pulled aside — their outline seemed to shimmer for a heartbeat under the lights.
Carter blinked.
When he looked again, the figure was gone.
The woman spoke softly, almost to herself.
"They're not testing for sickness."
His mother turned sharply. "Then what are they—"
"They're checking which ones still belong to this world," she said.
Carter felt the words crawl up his spine like static.
Because somewhere beyond the floodlights, someone was screaming — and it didn't sound entirely human.
---
Carter's gaze swept over the gathered crowd again. More people were being escorted through the gate now — dazed civilians, students, teachers — survivors.
And among them, he finally saw familiar faces.
"Carter?"
He turned sharply. Two of his classmates — Ben and Leah — hurried over. Both looked exhausted, their clothes streaked with dust and sweat.
"Holy hell, it really is you," Ben said, gripping his shoulder. "We thought you didn't make it out."
Carter managed a weak smile. "Barely. You guys alright?"
Leah nodded, though her eyes didn't match the motion. "They've been moving everyone in waves. Said we passed the scans or whatever. Some people didn't."
"Didn't?" Carter frowned. "You mean the ones they dragged away?"
Ben's expression stiffened. "Yeah. They said it's just… procedure."
He didn't sound convinced. Neither did Leah.
Carter's eyes drifted back to the line at the checkpoint. Soldiers shouted orders. A few civilians sobbed quietly. Somewhere, a metallic clang echoed — like a gate slamming shut.
"Where are Adam and Chris?" he asked suddenly. "They were with me before—"
The silence that followed was heavier than any answer.
Leah looked away. Ben opened his mouth, then closed it again.
"Where are they?" Carter repeated, sharper this time.
Leah's voice cracked when she spoke. "They… they took them."
Carter froze. "What?"
Emma's voice broke through before either of them could answer.
"Carter!"
She was running toward him through the crowd, nearly tripping over a loose tarp. Her face was red and streaked with tears, her voice trembling with panic.
She crashed into him, clutching his sleeve. "They took Adam and Chris!"
Carter's heart lurched. "What do you mean 'took'?"
"I saw it!" she sobbed. "At the checkpoint—they pulled them out of the line! Said they needed to be 'checked again'—and then—then they dragged them somewhere behind the tents—"
Her words dissolved into ragged breaths.
Ben rubbed the back of his neck, looking anywhere but at Carter. "They said it was just an error, man. That they'll reprocess them."
Carter stared past them toward the dim corridor where the "errors" were taken.
He could still hear the faint hum of machinery.
And beneath it—something else. Something wrong.
He didn't say anything. Didn't move. Just stood there, the noise of the crowd fading into a dull roar around him.
The woman's words echoed back in his mind.
Some of them do not belong here.
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Carter's gaze swept across the crowd again — faces blurred together in the dim light, tired and hollow.
Then he saw them — people from his school, scattered in small groups near the tents. A few looked his way, some lifting their hands in disbelief.
"Carter?" someone called faintly.
He managed a nod, forcing a small smile as a few of them hurried over. Most looked dazed, clothes torn, expressions still caught somewhere between relief and terror.
"You made it," one of them said quietly.
"Yeah," Carter replied. His eyes kept searching past them, scanning every face in the crowd. "Where are the others?"
No one answered at first. A few exchanged looks. Someone muttered something under their breath, but the words were lost in the noise of the checkpoint.
Then, through the murmur and movement, a familiar voice cut through.
"Carter!"
He turned sharply.
Emma was pushing her way through the crowd, her hair disheveled, eyes red and glistening. She stumbled toward him, half-running, half-sobbing.
He caught her by the shoulders. "Emma, hey—hey, it's okay. You're safe now—"
She shook her head violently. "No, no, you don't understand—"
Her breath hitched, the words breaking out of her like splinters. "They took them, Carter. Adam and Chris—they pulled them out of the line!"
Carter's grip tightened. "What do you mean 'took them'? Where?"
She pointed back toward the checkpoint, toward the floodlights and the narrow corridor beyond them. "They said there was a mistake, that they needed to be checked again, but—" her voice cracked, "—they didn't come back."
Carter stared past her, toward the line. Soldiers shouted orders, herding people forward with clipped gestures. A man tried to protest — he was silenced by a rifle butt. The sound made Carter flinch.
For a long moment, Carter said nothing. His heart pounded in his ears.
Carter's stomach twisted. He wanted to ask how, why, what happened—so many questions spilling out at once. He glanced at Emma, then instinctively turned to Truth Seeker.
But she wasn't there.
The space beside him was empty. Carter's eyes darted over the crowd, over the tents, even back toward the checkpoint—but she had vanished, as if she had never been standing there at all.
His heart thumped, unease crawling over him. He swallowed hard, the words he had wanted to ask stuck in his throat.
The line moved forward again, the soldiers' shouts and the murmurs of the crowd filling the air. And Carter was left standing there, alone, with only the chaos and the echo of Emma's words pressing down on him.
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