Chapter 5

  ~ Victoria ~

  The end began quietly. Faint murmurs on the news, lost among talks of climate change and fleeting trends. Until it grew too loud to ignore.

  Victoria had heard about it on the playground. Children echoing what they overheard from their parents. “My mom says it’s just another disease because they’re poor,” a girl had stated during a game of marbles. “It was created in a lab in China!” another had proclaimed. Ryan. She didn’t like him much.

  Everyone had a say, it seemed. Yet, her mom avoided the subject and shifted whenever questioned. Her own parents didn’t know, or didn’t care to tell her. And they had started arguing with each other after a while. Usually late at night when she was in bed. That one time, she could make out some words through the cracks in her door: her dad’s voice trying to be soft, but wanting to be heard.

  “We’re not gonna be like those people! We’ll be careful… we can home-school her for a bit if it comes to that.”

  She didn’t like the idea. Her friends would do so many things without her. They would forget her. Victoria wanted to go to school. And for a while, she had kept going. But soon enough, they all began carrying masks. It was scratchy, and she couldn’t smile or stick out her tongue when Ryan annoyed her. She didn’t like that. Even the teacher wore it under the nose, although he wasn’t supposed to. She also had to clean her hands more than usual, and the gel dried out her skin and made it red. She didn’t like that either. Maybe school wasn't so good after all.

  One day, her mom woke her up later than usual. The sun was already out, and the scent of waffles filled the air.

  “Hey, sweetie… You’re not going to school today,” her mom said softly while Victoria rubbed her sleepy eyes. “You’re gonna stay home. Just like a holiday!”

  She didn’t think much of it, and breakfast was delicious.

  The holidays dragged on for a long time. They watched TV more than usual, even while they ate. The men on TV spoke of accidents and angry people. First in countries she had heard about in school, then in places closer to home. She even saw the president one day. He made a long speech with words she didn’t really understand, but he looked very serious.

  After that, her parents started fighting even when she was around.

  One day, she woke up terrified. A loud noise came from overhead. Outside the house, but so close it could have as well been inside. A bright white light accompanied the sound of blades rotating in the night.

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  She couldn’t move. The noise was horrible. She clung to the warmth of her blanket, curled tightly into herself. There were voices outside her room. Her mother’s muffled whispers and the rustling of bags. Flashes of orange light blinked through the windows, accompanied by distant rumbles.

  Her father opened the door, a look of anguish upon his face. He embraced her and carried her down the stairs. “It’s okay, honey. We just need to walk a little.”

  They were outside now, people everywhere. They talked, they cried. And she wasn't sure which one to do. She was pressed against her father’s chest as they moved, his heartbeat strong against her cheek. There were men in armour, carrying guns. They reminded her of Saving Private Ryan, but scarier.

  Her parents followed their orders.

  The white light blinded her every time it passed, and a peculiar smell filled the air, almost like Sunday barbecues in the garden, yet far less pleasant. And every so often, she caught a glimpse of her mother’s face, her eyes darting towards the sky. There was fear all around. But Victoria wasn’t sure if it was her own, or theirs.

  The streetlights blinked out one by one, and the crowd around them moved faster. Short screams burst from the moving horde. Her father’s breath tousled her hair as he began to run.

  People down the road had started screaming. She didn’t know why.

  Her mother’s hand suddenly brushed her hair. “Keep your eyes closed, sweetie,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “Just keep them closed. We’re almost there.”

  Victoria did as she was told.

  Even then, she could feel the chaos growing. The motors above were louder and everywhere now. The ground beneath her kept shaking. “Daddy, I’m scared…” she managed to utter against the fabric of his sweater.

  “Shhh, it’s going to be okay, honey. Everything’s going to—”

  The explosion came suddenly. It shook everything with a terrible sound that made her more scared than she ever had been. The air turned cold in her vision, a biting wind.

  She was falling.

  Her hands flailed, yet no one was there to catch her. Her father’s arms were gone. Her mother’s voice, too.

  The pavement rushed up. But she didn’t hit it. Instead, she landed softly, as if sinking into water. The buildings stretched up into jagged angles, and the whole world twisted. The sky above swirled in crimson and black.

  She spun around her, searching the empty street.

  “Mom?” she whispered—at least she tried to, but the words wouldn’t leave her mouth. They were absorbed into nothingness. When she began searching for them, her feet splashed through a sort of black oil. The helicopters were no longer in the sky but on the ground. Their twisted blades were frozen, black smoke rising from the broken shells.

  She tried to keep going, but her legs were stuck now. She struggled as best she could, but soon, from the wreckage, something crawled out. Its eyes were on her. She knew, even though she couldn’t see well in the dark. The thing dragged itself closer. It moved unnaturally, like it had forgotten how to walk. But no one was there to hear her scream.

  It reached out for her, its long fingers stretching towards her face—

  She jolted awake, drenched in sweat. Pain coursed through her side as the nightmare clung to her. The sensation of falling refused to let go.

  For a moment, she wasn’t sure if she had escaped.

  The room in which she lay was made of stone and clearly an improvised infirmary. She glanced at the wound in her side, her torn shirt revealing the stitches. It was amateur work, but better than nothing, probably the reason she was still alive. Only then did she feel the fire inside her head. A burning fever awoke with her, threatening to drag her back under.

  Beyond her bed, a man was waiting in the dark. The embers of a fire cast rays that danced over his face. He looked old for some reason. Slouched in his wooden chair. Years of survival were etched onto his face, although he was probably not more than a decade older than her.

  He looked strong, especially in this outfit: cargo pants and a thick vest. Wearing almost all black save for brown tactical boots. Her eyes went to the axe resting loosely in his hand. If he were a captor, that could prove to be a problem.

  Wait, where am I? The thought slammed into her. Panic flared, and for a brief moment, she was convinced Briggs had caught her and dragged her back inside the walls. The anticipation pressed her to get up—

  “You shouldn’t move,” a raspy voice calmly said. “You ought to be dead. So don’t test your luck.”

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  She froze. The man wasn’t asleep after all. Her arms twitched as she tried to sit up, but her wrists caught on the frame. She was restrained.

  “Sorry about that,” he seemed almost embarrassed. “I just don’t know you, so…”

  Victoria’s eyes met his as she realised. He wasn’t one of them, but someone from outside. He placed a hand on her shoulder, guiding her back onto the mattress. “Your wound needs time to heal before you can move again. You want some water?”

  Her mind was filled with burning questions. Confusion clouded her senses. “Where are we? Who are you? Are there monsters out there?” Her mouth was dry and her voice hoarse, but she needed answers.

  He chuckled, apparently as confused as her. “Hey now, don’t play games with me, Victoria.”

  “H-how— ” A spike of fear shot through her. The idea that they might have sent him crossed her mind again. But then, he pointed at her chest. A tag dangled from her shirt.

  “I guess you shouldn’t put your name on your clothes if you don’t want people to know.” He set his axe down against a cupboard and offered a flask. “Here. Take a sip, I’ll check your wound.”

  She felt like prey again, beaten, captured and confused. But something in his demeanour eased her panic.

  “I should say thank you for saving my life,” she said, testing his reaction.

  He glanced at her with unease. “Oh, no. I only treated your wound. You can thank yourself for the rest. Honestly, I was certain you’d die after a few hours.”

  “How long was I out ?”

  “Two days. Maybe more. The darkness tends to mess with your senses.” He pressed his fingers gently around her wound, assessing it with care. “Good news is: it’s not infected,” he looked at her in anticipation. “Bad news is: you’ll need a few days before you can walk out of here.”

  A few days was a long time, but she had plenty now that she was finally free. Or outside the walls, at the very least. Victoria blinked, letting the thought sink in. She had many questions, but didn’t know where to begin. The truth was that the answers scared her. Outside the walls. The phrase hung weightless, terrible. The wall had been her horizon for as long as she could remember. She had planned to escape, but never considered what would come next. Now, she was adrift in a sea of endless possibilities and a devastating sense of emptiness.

  “You know I’m too weak to struggle. Can you untie me now?”

  He hesitated briefly before untying her left hand, “If you try anything… Just know, people have tried before, and I’m still alive.”

  Victoria nodded silently. Okay, tough guy.

  “You said I was out for two days,” she offered, trying to focus. “Where are we now?”

  The man shrugged, his expression distant. “We’re underground; I believe we’re beneath a hill in the city. It’s mostly tunnels down here, and I’ve been trying to find a way out for a few days. Give or take. But… let’s say circumstances have hindered my progress.”

  Underground.

  “What kind of place is this?” Her voice cracked in disbelief. She didn’t like the idea of being trapped beneath the earth. Again.

  “It might have been a control centre or a hub of some sort. A place of hope after the end…” He pointed to a pile of papers on a nearby desk. “I’ve been trying to map the area and track my whereabouts. These tunnels, somewhere… they lead back up. I just need to find the right route.” He paused as if the weight of the situation finally hit him. “But it’s easier said than done. Especially with—”

  His eyes went to her.

  “Especially with what?” she asked, impatience seeping into her voice.

  “It's nothing,” he said, looking away. “You should rest for now. I’ll roam a little while you do.”

  The fever burned in her skull. “So I’m just supposed to trust you won’t leave me here in the dark?”

  “If I wanted to leave you for dead, I wouldn’t have gone through all this trouble.” He ran a hand through his unkempt hair. “I’ll find a way out. I have to. Supplies are already thin, and with another mouth to feed, we don’t have much choice, do we?”

  She swallowed, her throat painfully dry. “And if you don’t?”

  For a moment, the silence stretched, both expecting an answer they didn't have. “There’s always a way out,” he said with a kind of resigned certainty.

  She could only imagine what he had gone through out there. And despite everything, she did owe her life to him. “You haven’t told me your name.”

  He hesitated, pretending not to have heard her. Then he walked away towards a pack resting near the wall. “Alek,” he said without turning back. “Not that it matters much anymore.”

  Victoria raised an eyebrow as he prepared to leave. “Well, Alek,” she said, letting the name roll off her tongue, “please find us a way out. I’m not dying down here. Not after everything.”

  Glancing over his shoulder, his tired eyes caught the faint glow.

  “Neither am I.”

  Time seemed to blend into a meaningless sequence of semi-conscious events. The unrelenting obscurity was only ever interrupted by Alek’s flashlight with each of his comings and goings. Victoria had lost any sense of day or night. Had she been in a better condition, impatience would have started gnawing at her.

  He had warned her that the search would be slow, but there was something he withheld. Each time he left, his warnings about the tunnels were vague, yet there was a tension in his voice, a flicker of apprehension before he crossed the threshold.

  Soon the fever faded, leaving only the throb of pain that washed over her in waves. Her body felt drained, and she slept so often that everything was a succession of dreams and hallucinations. There was no choice but to let it happen if she wanted to walk again soon, but she wouldn’t lie around forever. The need to act tugged at her.

  Alek wasn’t very helpful in figuring it all out. He had saved her life, yes, but there was much he was afraid to say. Admittedly, the fatigue had made her too tired to ask the right questions, but even in the smallest conversations, she could sense it. A silence that carried weight. Once, she had lain there, eyes closed, pretending to sleep as Alek rummaged through his pack. She caught snippets of his muttered words. 'This was a bad idea'; 'too close'. Each time he returned, his brow was furrowed deeper with worry. Or dread.

  Are there really monsters out there? She had always considered them myths. A children's story, something used to keep people in line. But what else would have Alek on edge this way? Unless he was hiding something darker. For all I know, he could be feeding me bullshit. Perhaps he wanted to make sure she stayed obediently inside, under control. But her pain wouldn’t last forever.

  Once her strength was regained, she’d figure things out. She had expected the outside world to be open skies and endless plains, however terrifying it could be. Not a crypt. There had to be something more.

  During one of their meals—if you could call them that—she had finally told him.

  “You know,” her voice interrupted the silence hanging between them. “I wasn’t kidding, last time…”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t know anything about any of it. And not just the tunnels; I have no idea what this world is.” She tried to meet his eyes, anticipating the reaction. “I grew up in a community hidden behind walls, mostly living underground. I’ve never been outside except behind a guarded perimeter.”

  “A community?” He sounded surprised. For the first time, she sensed genuine interest from him.

  “Yes. But they’re not good people. Most of them. That’s why I had to run.” She shifted, unnerved by her own words.

  “You should have stayed there.” A sadness crept into his voice, the light in his eyes fading.

  “No. I— I couldn’t. You have no idea how it was—” she realised what she was saying.

  He scoffed softly.

  “I didn’t mean… ”

  She resumed eating the bland mixture, lost in thought.

  “What’s it like out there?” she asked after a while.

  The question hung for a moment. “It’s not what you’d imagine.” His eyes darkened once more. “I don’t know what they told you in your community, but whatever you think the world looks like now… it’s worse.”

  There was nothing she could say to that, and Alek left again without another word. His footsteps faded outside, swallowed by the thick air.

  The quiet settled once more, and she found herself listening to the faintest sounds.

  Sometimes, the drip of water echoed down the stone corridors, its steady rhythm almost comforting. But Victoria couldn’t stand the idleness any longer.

  Her legs ached as she forced herself up. She moved towards the table where Alek had left his maps, a hand brushing the cool stone wall to steady herself. There was a mess of lines and notes hastily scribbled on worn paper. She spread them out, trying to understand it all under dim amber light. It took a lot of work to follow the routes he had marked. The paths seemed disjointed, tunnels left unexplored. Parts of the facility were drawn on separate sheets. Something felt off. There was a pattern she couldn’t quite grasp. A reason behind the apparent chaos. Is he avoiding areas on purpose?

  A low creak made her jump.

  Victoria’s eyes darted towards the door. At first, she thought it was just her imagination. Then, she heard it again, a faint scraping noise. It wasn’t Alek. It couldn’t be.

  She glanced at the stolen knife lying on the table. The only thing she had to defend herself. It’ll have to do. Her fingers tightened around the small blade, and she strained to hear, holding her breath.

  The sound had stopped, and while the silence grew thicker, she let out a shaky exhale. Then, from somewhere deep in the dark, she heard it. A whisper.

  It was barely audible, a breath carried on the wind. But it was there. Clear enough to send a shiver crawling up her spine. She backed away from the door, uncertain what lurked out there. But for the first time, she wished Alek would return.

  When she retreated behind the bed, a thin wisp of fog curled at the edge of the doorway. It snaked into the room, creeping along the stone floor. It moved with an ominous grace. She backed up, her body pressed against the wall. Nowhere to go.

  The fog thickened, spilling into the room in long tendrils. It was probing, feeling its way inside.

  The door burst open.

  Alek stumbled in. His face was pale; his breath was hard; his eyes were wide with terror. But she recognised a flicker in there, too. Triumph? He said nothing at first, only slamming the door behind him and leaning against it as if he was holding something back.

  Victoria’s gaze dropped to his hands, slick with a black liquid.

  “What happened?” Victoria asked, though her stomach twisted. She dreaded the answer.

  Alek pushed away from the door and wiped his brow. “It’s a good thing you’re up.”

  “What?”

  “I found it,” Alek said, his eyes gleaming with a manic intensity. “I found the way out.”

  Victoria took a step towards him.

  “But it’s… It’s not what you think.” He swallowed hard and lowered his voice to a whisper. “We’ll have to go through a place I’ve been avoiding.”

  Her blood ran cold as the fog continued to creep towards them. The weight of his words sank in. The truth she had denied slowly unravelled in her mind. They weren’t just escaping the tunnels.

  They were heading straight into a nightmare.

  ***