Six month later.
Six months have passed since we first arrived at the camp. Time seemed to blur together, the days marked by nothing but routine—scavenging, maintaining the defenses, training, and trying to survive.
I had been performing my duties exceptionally well. It didn't take long for Reyes to notice my commitment. I was dedicated, reliable, and always ready for whatever came next. So much so that she appointed me as second in command. It wasn't an official title, but it meant something. It meant she trusted me.
My sister, Alice, had been working just as hard. Her cooking skills had improved drastically over the past few months, and she had earned a place as one of the batch leaders in the medical team. It gave her purpose. And though I didn't say it out loud, I was proud of her. She had found a role in this broken world.
The two survivors we had rescued six months ago had integrated into the camp in their own ways. One of them, Kayla, had been bitten. We put her in quarantine, expecting the worst. We couldn't take chances. But to our surprise, after six whole months, no signs of infection had appeared. The virus usually took hold within two weeks, sometimes three at most. The fact that Kayla was still alive—and healthy—was baffling. It gave the camp a glimmer of hope, but also a rising sense of unease.
Kayla was sixteen. Hispanic, slightly white. She wasn't anything remarkable in terms of survival skills just a normal high school student they say, but she had shown resilience, and that was enough for the camp to keep her alive.
Her companion, Michael, on the other hand, was a different story. He was twenty-six, a tall, broad-shouldered black man. He had an exceptional engineering background. Before the apocalypse, he had been one of the leaders at a major engineering company. That experience had made him invaluable. We immediately made him a Lieutenant in the engineering section. His skills were exactly what we needed, and he wasted no time in organizing the team.
It was odd, though. The fact that Kayla hadn't turned after six months. It was unheard of. But Michael had fought for her life. He pleaded with us, using every ounce of influence he had to convince us to give her a chance. At first, we had planned to execute her. It seemed like the only option. But now? She was still here, and nobody knew why.
I sat across from Reyes in her small office, the soft rustle of paper the only sound between us. Her tired eyes met mine as I spoke.
"Reyes, I have something to discuss," I said, my voice firm. I could feel the weight of the conversation pressing down on me.
She looked up, acknowledging me with a simple nod. "What is it?"
"About the two survivors from six months ago," I said, leaning forward slightly. "Is it possible that Kayla is immune to the virus?"
Reyes paused for a moment, her brow furrowing. "I don't know," she replied, her voice low and uncertain. She glanced back at the stack of papers on her desk, her mind clearly on other matters. "We don't know if immunity is even possible. We don't know how long the virus can last in a person's system. There's still so much we don't understand."
I rubbed my chin, frustrated. "I don't like this, Reyes. Something's not right. How could she survive for six months without turning?"
That's right, even me who is from 10 years to the future does not acknowledge this. This was rather too different than what I remembered.
Reyes didn't respond right away. Instead, she simply leaned back in her chair, her hands supporting her head, looking weary. "It's strange, I'll give you that. But we can't waste resources trying to figure it out right now. We need to focus on what we can control."
I nodded, but my thoughts were elsewhere. The more I thought about Kayla and Michael, the more I began to feel uneasy. Were they hiding something? Was Kayla really immune, or was this some kind of trap?
"Speaking of resources," I said, my tone shifting to a more urgent note. "Our food and drink situation is getting worse. If we don't manage properly, we've got three weeks at most before we run out."
Reyes' face darkened. "I know."
I slammed my fist against the table. "Three weeks, Reyes! We can't survive on that!"
She stood up and walked to the window, looking out at the horizon, her expression unreadable. "We need to go all out with our scavenging this month. We don't have any other choice."
I stared at her, incredulous. "Have you gone mad? If we risk all our forces on one mission like this, we might come back with nothing. The camp will be vulnerable!"
Reyes' gaze was unwavering. "I know the risks. But Zone 12 is not as heavily infested. We'll have a better chance there. There are convenience stores, factories—we can find food and water."
I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. I knew she was right. Zone 12 wasn't overrun by zombies, at least not like the other zones. It was a calculated risk, but it still felt like a huge gamble.
"Fine," I said, through clenched teeth. "But we're sending everyone we have. That means the defenses here will be weak. What do you propose we do about that?"
Reyes turned to me, her gaze intense. "I'll stay here. You'll lead the squadron. This operation will last two weeks, and we'll supply you with everything we have left. You better not disappoint the camp, Alan."
I clenched my fists, frustration bubbling inside me. "What about my sister, Reyes? I can't just leave her here with everything happening!"
She gave me a stern look, her voice soft but firm. "Don't worry about her. We'll ensure her safety. It's too dangerous for one of the most important figures to go on a mission like this. You're needed out there."
I stared at her for a moment, anger and concern swirling inside me. But in the end, I knew she was right. I couldn't let my sister be the reason I stayed behind. The camp needed me now.
"Fine," I said, gritting my teeth. "I'll do it. But if anything happens to Alice—"
"Nothing will happen to her," Reyes interrupted, her voice firm. "We'll keep her safe, I promise."
I exhaled, feeling the weight of the decision settle in my chest. This was our only chance. But even with everything prepared, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was waiting to go wrong.
As I left the office, the stress hit me like a wave.
"FUCK FUCK FUCK!" I cursed under my breath, pacing outside.
"HOW WERE WE SO CARELESS ABOUT RESOURCE MANAGEMENT?!" My voice rose, catching the attention of the two guards stationed nearby.
"Sir, please calm down," one of them said cautiously.
"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" I snapped, glaring at him.
Taking a deep breath, I composed myself. What would Alice say if she saw me like this?
"Pardon me." I apologise to the two guards that was stationed nearby.
After that, my thought went straight to, "Kayla."
I headed straight for the quarantine building where Kayla was held. It was time to address the elephant in the room.
I reached the quarantine facility, where Kayla had been confined for months. Soldiers guarded the building, their expressions stern.
"Open the gate," I commanded, my voice steady.
The guard hesitated. "Sir, is that wise?"
"Are you refusing an order?" I snapped, narrowing my eyes at him.
"No, sir." The gate creaked open, and I strode inside, heading directly to Section 3 on the top floor. The atmosphere was heavy with tension, every step echoing in the cold, concrete corridor.
"Open the cell," I ordered the guard stationed there.
"Sir, for your safety, I must—"
"Are you questioning me?" I cut him off sharply.
"No, sir." He unlocked the door reluctantly.
I stepped inside, the dim light casting long shadows over the room. Kayla looked up, her eyes widening with surprise.
"Kayla," I said, my tone even. "You're free."
Her face lit up with shock and joy, a hesitant smile breaking through her usually reserved demeanor. "Thank you!" she exclaimed, her voice trembling with emotion.
"Don't thank me yet," I said, keeping my gaze cold. "You're one of us now, but let me make this clear—if we notice anything unusual, anything, you'll be executed on the spot. Do you understand?"
She nodded quickly, the gravity of my words sinking in. "I understand."
Without another word, I turned and left the cell. The news spread quickly through the camp. The reactions were mixed—some were outraged, insisting that I had jeopardized their safety, while others cautiously supported the decision, arguing that everyone deserved a chance.
Back at my tent, I found Alice fast asleep. The sight of her brought me a brief moment of peace.
"I'm sorry for being a bad brother in the past, Alice," I whispered, a single tear slipping down my cheek. "I'll do better. I promise."
I laid down beside her, staring at the canvas ceiling of the tent. Tomorrow would bring new challenges, but for now, I let myself rest.
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