The sound of helicopter blades thundering overhead pierced the silence, a stark contrast to the eerie calm that had settled over the desolate cityscape. Harley and his group—Jason, Marie, and Ava—stood at the edge of an open courtyard, their breaths visible in the chilly air. The faint rumble of military vehicles grew louder, accompanied by the rhythmic stomping of boots. Relief mingled with apprehension as they exchanged wary glances.
"It's the military," Jason muttered, his voice tinged with hope. "They've come to rescue survivors."
"Or clean up," Ava countered, her tone cautious.
Marie squeezed Harley's arm. "Just act normal. Don't give them a reason to question anything."
Harley nodded but said nothing. His pale, almost ghostly complexion—a side effect of the virus—was hard to miss. The bite mark on his chest felt like a brand, a mark of guilt he couldn't escape. Despite regaining control over his body and mind, he knew the infection had made him something… other.
A convoy of armored vehicles rolled into view, their mounted guns swiveling in search of threats. Soldiers in tactical gear emerged, scanning the area with practiced efficiency. One of them, a woman with a stern expression and a rifle slung across her chest, stepped forward.
"Hands where we can see them!" she barked, her voice cutting through the tension.
Harley raised his hands, and the others followed suit. The soldiers moved swiftly, forming a perimeter around the group. Another soldier, carrying a handheld scanner, approached cautiously.
"We're not infected," Jason said quickly. "We've been fighting to survive, that's all."
The scanner emitted a soft hum as the soldier ran it over each of them. When he reached Harley, the device hesitated, flashing red for a brief moment before turning green. The soldier's brow furrowed as he took a closer look at Harley.
"Hold on," he said, stepping back. "What's with his skin?"
Harley's heart sank. He knew this moment would come but wasn't ready for it.
"It's nothing," Ava interjected, stepping in front of Harley. "He's just pale. We've all been through hell."
The soldier's eyes narrowed. "Stand aside, ma'am. Let me see him."
Harley stepped forward, lifting his shirt to reveal the faint scar on his chest. The soldier's face hardened, and he immediately raised his weapon. "He's been bitten!"
The courtyard erupted into chaos. Guns were trained on Harley from every angle, the soldiers shouting commands as his friends moved to shield him.
"Wait!" Marie shouted, her voice desperate. "He's not like the others. He's immune… or something. He's not dangerous!"
"You've seen what happens to bitten survivors," the lead soldier retorted. "They turn. Every. Single. Time."
"But I haven't!" Harley yelled, his voice cutting through the commotion. He took a step forward, his hands raised in surrender. "I'm still me. Whatever this is… it hasn't taken over."
The lead soldier hesitated, her finger hovering over the trigger. "Step back! Now!"
Jason moved in front of Harley, his arms outstretched. "If you shoot him, you'll be killing an innocent man. He's saved our lives more times than I can count. If he were going to turn, it would've happened already."
"That's not your call to make," the soldier snapped. She motioned to one of her team members. "Contain him."
Two soldiers approached with restraints, their faces grim. Harley's mind raced. He didn't want to fight them, but he couldn't let himself be taken, not when his friends needed him.
"Don't do this," Ava pleaded. "He's different. He's stronger. He can help you."
"Stronger?" the lead soldier repeated, her tone skeptical. "That sounds like a liability, not an asset."
As the soldiers reached for him, Harley's instincts took over. In a blur of motion, he grabbed one of the soldiers' arms and twisted, forcing the man to drop his weapon. The second soldier lunged, but Harley sidestepped, his movements unnaturally quick.
"Stand down!" the lead soldier shouted, but her voice was drowned out by the chaos.
Marie and Jason moved to intervene, trying to de-escalate the situation, while Ava shouted at the soldiers to stop. Harley, his breaths coming in short gasps, backed away, his hands shaking. He didn't want to hurt anyone, but the fear in their eyes told him he was already seen as a monster.
The standoff stretched into agonizing seconds, the tension so thick it was suffocating. Finally, the lead soldier lowered her weapon slightly, her expression hard but thoughtful.
"If you're really in control," she said, her voice measured, "prove it. Stand down, and let us do our job."
Harley met her gaze, his jaw clenched. Slowly, he raised his hands, signaling his surrender. The soldiers moved in cautiously, securing his hands with restraints. His friends protested, but the lead soldier silenced them with a look.
"We'll take him to the lab for testing," she said. "If he's telling the truth, we'll know soon enough. Until then, he stays under guard."
As Harley was led away, he glanced back at his friends. Jason gave him a reassuring nod, while Ava's expression was a mix of anger and helplessness. Marie's eyes were filled with tears, her lips forming silent words: Stay strong.
Harley swallowed hard, his mind racing with possibilities. He didn't know what the military would do to him, but one thing was certain: he couldn't let this be the end. Not for him, and not for his friends.