The evening air hung thick; the road stretched ahead, empty except for the trio and the thin black tendrils creeping up the shell of abandoned automobiles.

  Karen kicked a loose rock as they walked. "So, that councilman... I suppose he wasn't in the house after all."

  Lucy exhaled, adjusting her bag. "Seems that way, yeah. If we can trust anything Lyle said."

  Karen shrugged. "I don't know... some of it sounded true."

  Hans looked around nervously. "I wonder if wolves really laugh at you before they, you know..."

  Karen whipped around, glaring. "They don't!"

  Lucy rolled her eyes. "Yeah, Hans. That's insane."

  Hans rubbed his arms with indecision. "I don't know, guys... Why did he give you a gun then?"

  Karen threw up her hands. "Because he's crazy, you butthead!" she practically screamed. She couldn't believe they were even entertaining the idea.

  Hans narrowed his eyes at the jungle on their left-hand side. "Uh-huh. Does it even have bullets?"

  Lucy blinked. "I'm not sure. I haven't checked."

  Hans gestured toward her hip. "Well, check!"

  Lucy sighed, grinding to a halt and pulling the gun from where it was tucked in her waistband. The metal felt cool against her fingers.

  She turned it over in her hands, frowning. After a moment, she admitted, almost ashamedly:

  "Honestly... I don't know. My dad never showed me that part."

  "A detective who doesn't know how to use a gun. Boy, what a boring serial that'd be." Karen quipped.

  Lucy snorted with laughter. "Shut up."

  Hans, however, wasn't laughing. He watched the gun, eyes locked on it like it might go off on its own. Before Lucy could react—

  He reached out. "What if you just—"

  "Hey, don't touch it!" Lucy snapped, yanking it away.

  Hans staggered back. "What? I was just—"

  "What if it just shoots or something?" Lucy's voice was sharp, panicked.

  Karen rolled her eyes, resting her hands on her waist. "Gosh, you really are dumb."

  Hans held up his hands. "Yeah, but—"

  Lucy cut him off, her grip tightening on the pistol. "Don't do that again. I'm serious."

  Hans held her gaze briefly, then sighed. "Fine..."

  She let out a slow breath, tucking the handgun back where it belonged; the weight of it suddenly felt heavier.

  A swift rustling came from the field that stretched off to their right-hand side.

  Before anyone could react, a deer darted from the tall grass, hooves skidding against the pavement, stopping dead center in the road ahead.

  The trio froze.

  Hans was the first to speak. "Guys, it's a deer!"

  Lucy didn't take her eyes off it. "We can see that."

  Karen tilted her head. "Why is it just staring at us?"

  The deer took slow steps closer, then stopped.

  Its eyes locked onto them.

  Hans swallowed hard. "Aren't deer supposed to... you know... run away?"

  Lucy nodded. "Yeah..."

  "Go scare it, Hans."

  Hans whipped his head toward Karen. "No way! You do it!"

  Karen rolled her eyes. "You're the boy! You're supposed to do it!"

  "Not happening!" He hollered.

  Lucy cut them both off. "Shut up!" Her voice was short but honed. "You guys are already yelling. It should've run by now."

  But the deer just stood there. Watching.

  Karen huffed. "Fine, I'll do it."

  She stepped forward, frantically waving her arms.

  "SHOO! GET OUTTA HERE!"

  Her voice echoed down the empty road.

  The deer didn't move. It didn't even flinch.

  The three of them stood there, staring back at it.

  Hans's voice was quiet, almost a whisper. "Shoot it."

  Lucy turned her head to him. "What?"

  Hans's eyes stayed locked on the deer. "It's not normal. Shoot it."

  Karen shifted uneasily. "Uh... guys?"

  The deer took another step forward. Then another.

  The closer it got, the more details came into focus.

  Its dripping eyes—gray, lifeless. Its mouth—hanging slightly ajar; thick black fluid oozing down its face and jaw. The same substance creeps over cars and buildings.

  Hans stepped back. "Seriously. SHOOT IT!"

  Lucy's hand flew to her waist. She yanked out the gun, tensely clutching it.

  The instant she did—

  The deer halted abruptly.

  Its head tilted toward the gun.

  Time stretched—long and agonizing.

  Without warning, it turned and bolted. Darting off the road, disappearing into the trees.

  Hans exhaled, his breath shaky. "What the—?"

  Lucy lowered the gun slightly, eyes still on the woods. "That was peculiar..."

  Karen's face had gone pale. "I think we should get out of here. Now."

  Hans looked between them. "So, Lyle wasn't..."

  Lucy cut him off. "Let's just go, alright? We don't know what happened."

  Karen gulped, eyes flipping between Lucy and the M1911 in her hand.

  "Can you just... hold that for now?"

  "Good idea," Lucy stipulated.

  Darkness engulfed the terrain as the night dragged on. Northside's mighty walls towered before them, an imposing mass of metal and concrete that seemed to extend to the horizon. Both motion and sound were nonexistent, the chirping of crickets being the only symphony.

  Hans gulped hard. His voice was small in the space around them.

  "I don't like this."

  Karen smirked, nudging him with her elbow. "Don't worry, buddy. We're safe now."

  Hans shot her a flat stare. "Are we?"

  Lucy squinted, examining the ominous black void beyond the walls.

  "I'm wondering why it's so gloomy."

  Karen shrugged, stuffing her hands in her pockets. "No idea, but it's the QA. They'll probably surprise us at any moment or somethi—"

  White light erupted all around them in a blinding flare.

  They flinched, raising their arms against the sudden assault on their senses. The night around them shattered, replaced by a stark, artificial blaze of high-powered floodlights.

  A serrated, authoritative voice rang out from beyond.

  "Stop where you are and state your business!"

  The three of them exchanged looks, blinking against the harsh glare.

  "W—we're from Brightvale!" Lucy identified.

  "State your business!"

  A lengthy, choked reticence followed.

  Lucy exhaled, trying to keep her composure. "I'm Lucy Sinclair; I have a travel pass from the QA!"

  Another awkward pause followed; it lasted longer this time.

  "So..." Karen adjusted her stance restlessly.

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  The man's voice broke through the discomfort once more.

  "You, the one holding the gun. Step forward."

  Lucy stiffened. Karen's hand flung out, gripping her wrist.

  "Luce..."

  Before she could continue—

  A gunshot rang through the night.

  The three of them flinched as the windshield of an abandoned car across the road shattered into smithereens. The reverberation clung to the breeze, rattling through their core.

  "I said step forward. Now!"

  Lucy's heart pounded loudly in her ears. She turned to her friends, their faces stricken with a dread that was unmistakably mirrored.

  Slowly, she stepped toward the light. The man spoke again, this time with placidity.

  "All the way to the gate."

  Lucy forcefully swallowed, feeling the weight of their stares behind her as she approached the gargantuan entrance; the steel doors were featureless except for the slits where the floodlights beamed down on her like an insect caught under glass.

  "Put your weapon on the ground and step back."

  She obeyed resentfully, setting the handgun on the pavement and slowly stepping back.

  "More."

  The man kept repeating.

  "More."

  She forced herself to breathe as she stepped back further, the distance between her and the weapon expanding.

  "Now get down on your knees."

  Karen's voice cut through the air, laced with anger.

  "Is this truly necessary?!"

  The man refused to parley. "Don't make us kill you, girl. On your knees. Now."

  "Just do what they say, Karen."

  Reluctantly, the three of them lowered themselves onto the concrete. The world remained motionless, except for the sound of gears grinding against steel.

  The gate groaned to life, grinding open just enough to reveal the abyss beyond.

  Then—the soldiers poured out.

  They moved like machines, rifles raised, boots stomping in perfect rhythm as they spread out and encircled them, cutting off all possible escape routes.

  One of them stepped forward. A woman. Her uniform bore the insignia of the QA, but the aura around her was more dangerous.

  She leveled her rifle toward them, her voice cold and flat.

  "Are you infected?"

  Hans blinked; his breath hitched. "What? No!"

  The woman barely looked at him. "I wasn't talking to you, munchkin. Keep your mouth shut."

  Hans tightened, his jaw clenched, but he didn't utter another word.

  The woman stepped closer, eyes locked onto Lucy like she was waiting for the wrong answer.

  "I asked you a question."

  She knew what hesitation looked like to these people; it looked like a lie.

  "No, we're not infected."

  The woman didn't respond immediately. She just stared, as if measuring her.

  "Get up. Just you."

  Why just me?

  Lucy pondered briefly, eyes fixed on the ground beneath her.

  She glanced at Karen and Hans, both completely still, unsure what to do. Then, slowly, she pushed herself up.

  Hans tensed. "Wait—"

  "I said keep your goddamn mouth shut!"

  Hans flinched as the woman's voice snapped through the night. He lowered his gaze to the floor, fists clenched at his sides.

  Lucy turned toward him, worry flickering in her eyes, but he didn't look up.

  The woman nodded toward the gate. "Get inside. Your friends will wait here for now."

  Lucy took a sluggish breath and tromped through the line of soldiers, through the gate's gaping maw, and into the unknown.

  For what felt like minutes, neither Karen nor Hans dared to move.

  "Next one."

  The order came from deeper inside the checkpoint. The soldier's voice was drearier than the woman's.

  The woman lifted her rifle slightly, then jabbed it toward Karen.

  "You next."

  "Why me? What about Hans?" Karen grimaced.

  The woman didn't answer the question. She didn't have to.

  "Get. Up."

  Karen fumbled while rising, then turned to Hans.

  "It'll be fine."

  Hans nodded weakly. "Yeah..."

  She forced a smile, stretching slightly as if this was just a minor inconvenience. Following Lucy's path, Karen vanished beyond the threshold.

  The woman lowered her weapon and stepped toward Hans; the ring of rifles around him was unmoving.

  Hans looked up as she knelt before him. She studied him, her expression unreadable.

  "Your accent. Where are you from, boy?"

  Hans' stomach curled, his mind racing.

  Was there a right answer?

  He spoke softly after a considerable pause.

  "I'm German."

  The woman's eyes swept over him, scrutinizing his features, hunting for something camouflaged.

  "Hmm."

  She straightened up and stepped back.

  "Get up and join your friends."

  Hans didn't need to be told twice. He sprang up and walked—fast. His legs carried him forward before his mind fully caught up.

  No sooner had he passed through the entrance than he noticed Lucy and Karen waiting, concern etched across their faces.

  They sat uncomfortably in a cramped room, the sterile white walls contracting around them. The space was bare, save for the cold metal chairs beneath them and the table that separated them from the locked door. The undertone felt substantial, purposeful rather than overwhelming.

  Hans entered first as the door swung open, the woman following closely behind. She shut the door, studying them with the same keen, assessing look she had outside.

  "I'm Staff Sergeant Bailey," she said, matter-of-fact and confident. She tapped the clipboard in her hand. "Your papers look genuine."

  Lucy raised an eyebrow. "Bailey?

  She glanced at Karen—a silent confirmation.

  That was the exact name they had come to Northside to look for.

  Before she could query, Bailey cut in.

  "You're not talking. I am."

  The room grew quiet again, and a mild smile danced at Bailey's lips.

  "That's better."

  She looked back at her clipboard. "So, we have Lucy Sinclair, Karen Baxtor, and Hans Wagner. Major Holly herself gave you passage, huh?

  Lucy nodded. "That's right."

  Bailey let out a short chuckle. "I bet that was a delight."

  Her tone had changed—not friendly, but no longer openly hostile.

  She studied them again, her eyes bouncing between them.

  "So, did you run into any trouble on your way here? You walked the whole way?"

  Lucy exhaled. There was no point in lying.

  "We had my car, but it broke down."

  "Broke down?" Bailey inquired.

  "We ran out of gas."

  Bailey tilted her head, lips curling into something almost amused. "Don't worry about that. We'll have that sorted and returned to you in Brightvale."

  Lucy squinted, her voice filled with astonishment. "Seriously? Thank you."

  Bailey waved a hand. "No sweat. It's why we're here."

  She looked them in the eyes, her smile lingering.

  "To assist and protect you."

  Lucy, Karen, and Hans exchanged a quick, jittery glance.

  Karen's voice was dry. "Right."

  Lucy sat up straight. "So, can we go then?"

  Bailey's smile didn't fade.

  "Oh, no." She leaned forward. "You're gonna sit right there until we're certain you're not infected. And after you've answered my questions."

  Lucy clenched her jaw. "Okay..."

  Bailey glanced at her clipboard again, pausing just long enough to be unsettling.

  She returned her gaze to the trio, her voice shockingly casual for her next question.

  "Have you ever killed anyone, Lucy? Or any of you?"

  The question hit like a sudden shift in gravity.

  Karen winced, her poise faltering. Hans choked as he gasped. Lucy's pulse throbbed as she tried to comprehend the question.

  Neither of them answered for a spell.

  "No... uh, why?" Lucy asked, her tone laced with bewilderment.

  Bailey's expression didn't change.

  "Are you sure about that?" she said. "I want you to think very hard about your answer."

  Lucy's heart clenched. She turned to Karen and Hans, but they appeared just as stunned as she was.

  "We're kids. We haven't killed anyone."

  Bailey observed her, her eyes brimming with skepticism.

  "Interesting..."

  Before they could even process what was happening, Bailey reached behind her back and pulled out the M1911.

  Bailey set it on the table between them, fingers resting on the steel.

  "Then where the hell did you get this gun?"

  Lucy leaned back in her chair.

  "Some crazy bus driver gave it to me."

  Bailey's expression changed slightly to that of confusion; her posture stiffened.

  "A bus driver?"

  Karen huffed, shaking her head. "Yeah, he was completely out of it. He's a lunatic."

  Bailey didn't respond immediately. She studied them—closely.

  "What was his name?"

  "Lyle. You know him?"

  Bailey's pupils focused on Lucy's face.

  "Are you sure?"

  Lucy exchanged a quick look with Karen, then nodded.

  "That's what he told us. Why?"

  Bailey gripped her clipboard harshly, her leg starting to twitch.

  "Where was this?"

  "A few miles back. At one of your abandoned checkpoints."

  Bailey stepped back. It wasn't obvious, but it was there—a posture adjustment, a momentary recoil, like she had just heard something that shouldn't be possible.

  Karen leaned forward, raising an eyebrow.

  "What?"

  Bailey hesitated for a long moment. Her lips parted slightly as if she wanted to speak, but the words didn't come.

  Then, finally—

  "We don't have any abandoned checkpoints."

  The air in the room changed.

  Hans stared at the weapon, which, judging by its model, most certainly belonged to a QA soldier. "What do you mean?"

  "They should all be manned..." Bailey murmured, mostly to herself.

  "It was near that big billboard. There was no one there except him. He was just sitting there, in a bus, in uniform." Lucy let out a faint chuckle. "He gave us the gun when we left."

  Bailey turned pale.

  She took a half step back, as if steadying herself. Then, in a voice that wasn't nearly as controlled as before—"If you'll excuse me a moment."

  She turned toward the door, pausing to order, "Stay here."

  The silence she left behind was deafening.

  Lucy blinked. "What was that about?"

  Hans let out a slow breath. "I don't know, but it's weird..."

  Karen scoffed, slumping back in her chair. "'Stay here.' As if we can go anywhere anyway."

  Shouts rang out from beyond the room, growing louder and more frantic every second. The heavy stomp of boots thundered through the corridors as soldiers rushed outside in droves.

  Karen moved toward the door, peering through the small window.

  "What the heck?"

  Hans straightened, suddenly alert. "What's going on?"

  Karen narrowed her eyes, following the stream of armed soldiers as they exchanged commands. "Looks like they're going to war or something."

  Lucy grimaced, replaying the events from earlier. "Because of Lyle? I don't understand."

  "Me neither," Karen muttered, eyes still fixed on the chaotic movement outside. "But they're all rushing out with guns."

  A moment passed between them, uncertainty hanging in the air. Then Karen spotted a familiar figure striding toward the room.

  "She's coming."

  The door swung open, and Bailey stepped inside. Before she could speak, Lucy fired off.

  "What's going on out there?"

  Bailey didn't even pause. "None of your business. Here's your papers."

  She thrust the stamped documents toward Lucy, her movements quick, distracted.

  Lucy took the paper, flipping it over briefly before looking back up.

  "Now," Bailey continued, her tone clipped. "What did you come here for?"

  Lucy's fingers tightened around the paper. This was it.

  "I'm investigating an arson case."

  Bailey's expression didn't shift.

  "Councilman Geoffrey's place."

  "Yeah. What do you know about it?"

  Bailey exhaled sharply through her nose. "Nothing you need to know. Why are you here exactly?"

  Lucy stayed firm. "We've come to ask a boy named Trevor some questions."

  Beside her, Karen spoke up. "Trevor Bailey..."

  Bailey's posture changed; there was a subtle twitch in her eyes. "That's my brother."

  Lucy gave a small nod. "Yes, I figured as much. Can we go see him?"

  "Why? He has nothing to do with it."

  Lucy folded her arms. "How can you be certain?"

  Bailey's expression darkened. "I'm certain... What could he possibly answer for you?"

  Lucy didn't back down. "That's what I've come to find out!"

  Bailey squinted; her voice sharpened. "Did you maybe find something we're not aware of?"

  Lucy wavered briefly.

  "No," she said. "But I have reason to believe he may be able to answer a few simple questions."

  Bailey tilted her head, a small but louring smirk teasing at her lips.

  "You came all the way here for 'a few simple questions'?"

  A long silence stretched between them.

  Karen and Hans exchanged glances. Lucy held Bailey's stare.

  Bailey sighed. "Fine, if you insist. I don't care."

  She motioned toward the door.

  "You're not infected, so you're free to go. Follow me."

  Without another word, she walked out.

  Lucy, Karen, and Hans looked at one another quickly and shrugged, almost in unison.

  As they began to follow Bailey, a young man came rushing toward her. He didn't notice the trio as he stopped before her, looking nervous.

  "Ms. Bailey, um, ma'am."

  Bailey barely slowed. "What is it, Charlie?"

  Charlie swallowed, fidgeting slightly. "Ma'am, Test Subject 007 didn't make it. Dr. Callahan said that they can't keep losing patients if they're to keep pace with Russia—"

  "Enough!"

  Bailey's voice snapped through the space, loud and firm.

  After hearing enough of the discussion and knowing it was important, Lucy, Karen, and Hans stepped into the main area.

  Charlie froze, stunned. Bailey exhaled sharply, realizing too late that the three teenagers had heard every word.

  "Thank you. Now walk away."

  Charlie nodded quickly. His eyes drifted toward the trio, widening as realization struck, before he scurried off.

  Lucy and Karen barely had time to speak before Bailey turned toward them, fixing them with a menacing stare.

  A silent warning.

  Then, without another word, she started toward a large building at the other end.

  Outside, the rain had started. Droplets dripped from the structures, pooling in the cracks of the concrete. Along with the scent of damp pavement, there was another, more sterile aroma in the air.

  Bailey didn't seem to notice. "Just through here," she muttered, guiding them to the entrance. "We'll assign you a room, and an escort will arrive in the morning to transport you to Sunny Brook."

  "Thanks again." Lucy hesitated. She couldn't help herself.

  "What about back there?" she asked, voice anchored. "What did that boy say about test subjects and Russia? And, what about Lyle?"

  Bailey paused, then slowly turned to Lucy, her stare colder than the rain.

  "Nothing you need to worry about."

  Lucy didn't buy that for a second.

  "Maybe it could help my investigation someho—"

  "Kid, this is a matter of national security. It's not relevant to your little 'case.'"

  Her voice was sharper now. Any hint of forced politeness was gone.

  "You have your papers. Now get out of my sight."

  She didn't wait for a response.

  She walked away, disappearing into the storm, leaving the trio standing there—dripping, confused, and with more questions than answers.