The sudden commotion froze Anna and Marlene in their tracks just as they were about to go their separate ways. Every eye on the street turned toward the military trucks rolling in from both ends.
Under the bewildered gazes of the onlookers, the trucks pulled to a stop outside a residential building made of pale gray brick.
Over twenty soldiers leapt from the vehicles. Several immediately donned gas masks and charged into the building without a word.
The rest unloaded warning barricades, cordoning off the entrance. They took up positions at the gaps with rifles raised, scanning the growing crowd of curious residents with hard, watchful eyes.
"Wh-what's going on?"
Sarah was at Bryan's side in an instant, staring at the soldiers. Her voice was equal parts nerves and curiosity.
"I don't know yet."
Bryan's gaze swept between the soldiers and the building behind them. He shook his head slowly. He'd gotten the general picture of conditions in the QZ from Anna and Lucy, but he'd only been outside the school for a day. There was still plenty he didn't know.
Then it clicked. He thought of what Lucy had told them yesterday—about the residents who'd stumbled onto tunnels leading outside the QZ walls. He recalled the soldiers just now, rushing inside with gas masks. A theory was already forming.
"Search every room. Verify all identification documents. Scan every individual for infection. Anyone without proper ID—bring them down to me immediately."
Shortly after the soldiers entered, a female officer in command dress appeared at the building's entrance, barking orders into a radio.
Her sudden appearance drew the attention of every soldier and civilian in the vicinity—but for Bryan's group, her face triggered something else entirely. Recognition.
"Look—it's Tracy!" Sarah and Allen jumped up the moment they saw the officer's unmistakable face, shouting her name in unison.
Their outburst drew sidelong glances from nearby residents.
Tracy seemed to hear her name called. Her voice and movements hitched for just a fraction of a second. She glanced in their direction—but didn't acknowledge them. She simply continued issuing orders through the radio.
Allen looked puzzled. "Hey! Why'd she ignore—OW!"
Bryan flicked him hard on the forehead. "She's in the middle of an operation. You think she's going to stop and wave hello? Get over yourself."
Allen clutched his head, wincing, mouth open to retort—but one look at Bryan's glare shut him up.
"AAAGH—!"
Rat-tat-tat-tat—!
A piercing scream tore through the building above them, followed instantly by the unmistakable crack of automatic rifle fire. Muzzle flashes strobed behind the windows. Someone was shooting up there.
The gunfire stunned every bystander on the ground. Heads tilted back, mouths hanging open, bodies instinctively retreating. One wrong sign and they'd bolt.
Tracy's expression changed. She snatched up the radio. "Dammit! What's your situ—"
CRASH!
Before she could finish, a window on one of the upper floors exploded outward. Two figures plummeted from the opening.
A man's terrified scream accompanied their fall. Both bodies slammed into the concrete with a sickening impact, blood spraying outward on contact. Within moments, a crimson pool had formed, the sharp tang of iron filling the air.
When the crowd's eyes focused, they saw a young woman in ragged clothing—veins bulging grotesquely across her face and arms—lying on top of a soldier. The blood was his.
"SHRIEEEEK—!"
Before anyone could react, the woman wrenched her head up and screamed. Bloodshot eyes swept the crowd. She planted both hands on the ground and began to push herself upright.
"RUN! IT'S AN INFECTED!"
"AAAAAAH—!"
Terror—raw, primal terror—seized the crowd. The sight of that twisted face hurled every resident back to the earliest days of the outbreak. Months of safety inside the QZ walls hadn't erased those memories. They were seared in deep.
The crowd erupted into chaos. Everyone scrambled to get as far from the rising Infected as possible, terrified of being attacked, of being bitten, of the pathogen.
But they needn't have worried. The instant the Infected and soldier had hit the ground, Tracy was already sprinting toward them. Before the creature could fully rise, she drew the combat knife from her belt and drove it into the thing's skull.
She looked down at the dead soldier, then up at the building—the gunfire had stopped. She raised the radio again. "Report! Give me a situation update, now!"
Then she led several soldiers into the building at a run, the crowd's terrified eyes following her every step.
Bryan watched it all unfold in quiet shock. This had completely upended his initial theory.
At first, he'd guessed the soldiers were searching for another tunnel to the outside. Then he'd heard Tracy's orders about checking IDs, and the surprise shifted—someone had actually smuggled outsiders into the QZ. But an Infected? That nearly made his jaw hit the pavement.
This was insane. The QZ had barely been established, and Infected were already appearing inside. With this many witnesses, the news would spread across the entire zone within days.
When that happened, the resulting panic would plunge the fragile stability of the QZ into turmoil.
While Bryan's mind raced, soldiers in gas masks began emerging from the building entrance.
The first six or seven dragged ashen-faced, filthy individuals behind them. One look at their grimy clothes and unwashed faces made it obvious—these were not QZ residents.
As the last soldier emerged, hauling a middle-aged man by the arm, the man's eyes locked onto the young woman's body lying on the pavement—the one who was clearly no longer alive. His eyes filled with anguish.
"My daughter! That's my daughter!"
He began thrashing wildly, glaring at the soldier holding him with undisguised hatred, screaming at the top of his lungs: "It was YOU! You killed my daughter! We were living just fine—why did you have to come and ruin everything?! WHY?!"
The soldier looked down at the struggling man with open irritation. "Your daughter turned into an Infected a long time ago. She's been dead. Wake up and accept what's coming, you piece of—"
He released the man's arm, measured his force, and slammed the butt of his rifle into the man's skull.
Thud. The man's head bounced off the pavement. A trickle of blood ran down from his temple. But there was no pain on his face—only something wilder, more unhinged. He screamed:
"She's NOT dead! She could still move—she wasn't dead!"
"YOU killed her! YOU killed her!"
The soldier looked at the man's manic expression and felt something unexpected: a flicker of fear. He caught himself and stepped back half a pace.
Son of a—
Furious at his own hesitation, the soldier brought the rifle butt down again. This time, the blow left the man dazed and half-conscious.
"That man's daughter already turned into an Infected… why does he keep saying she's not dead?" Sarah watched the semiconscious man being dragged away, unable to hide her sympathy. She turned to Bryan.
Bryan's gaze was fixed on the middle-aged man. He reached over and took Sarah's hand without thinking. "His daughter was already gone. He just refuses to accept reality."
Even as he answered, his eyes never left the man. Something felt off. He couldn't pinpoint what.
The soldier, satisfied that his captive had stopped struggling, nodded and bent down to grab the man's arm and drag him forward.
That's when Bryan saw it.
The instant the soldier leaned down, the man's glazed, unfocused eyes snapped into razor clarity. A murderous light blazed in them, hatred written across every feature.
Bryan's stomach dropped. That's what had felt wrong. The man had been faking it.
In one explosive motion, the man seized the soldier's rifle, headbutted him square in the face, then spun behind the staggering soldier and used him as a human shield. He hoisted the rifle—still strapped to the soldier's body—and aimed it at the other soldiers, who stood frozen in shock.
The venom in his eyes burned even brighter. He screamed:
"You bastards! You can all go to hell with my daughter!"
...
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