Alex limped forward, the distant silhouette of the bridge control room rising like a jagged monument against the dusk. Sam and Chloe clung close to him, their wide eyes darting nervously as shadows stretched over the ruins. He could see the faint flicker of light from the room ahead—Carter's signal, a lantern they'd rigged to let him know it was safe.
Relief flooded Alex's chest as he made out familiar figures waving from the balcony of the control room. Sam and Chloe bolted ahead, their voices rising in shrill cries of joy.
"Mom! Dad!" Chloe called, her small feet kicking up dust as she ran.
Alex pushed forward, his body aching from the fight with the Hunter. He was barely keeping up, but seeing Sam and Chloe rush into their mother's embrace gave him a sense of purpose again.
Carter stepped out onto the balcony, his tall frame silhouetted by the orange glow of the lantern. His crowbar hung loosely over his shoulder, and he raised a hand in greeting. "You made it," he called. His tone was casual, but Alex caught the tightness in his voice, the strain of someone who had been through too much already.
The kids' mother, a wiry, dark-haired woman named Nora, hugged them fiercely before straightening and looking to Alex. Her face was pale, her eyes ringed with exhaustion, but there was something else there—fear.
"Thank you," she said, her voice trembling as she met Alex's gaze. "Thank you for bringing them back."
"Wasn't easy," Alex said, leaning against the rail to catch his breath. "What about you? Any trouble while we were gone?"
Nora hesitated, glancing back toward the control room. Carter had stepped inside, leaving the door ajar. Her lips pressed into a tight line, and Alex noticed her hands trembling as she brushed Chloe's hair from her face.
"We need to talk," she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper.
Alex stiffened. "What's going on?"
Nora ushered the kids inside, giving them instructions to sit with Carter. Once they were out of earshot, she turned back to Alex, her expression grim.
"It's about Sam and Chloe's dad," she said.
Alex's stomach sank. He had been hoping against hope that the man's absence was just bad timing, that maybe he'd been out scavenging or watching the perimeter. But the look in Nora's eyes told him otherwise.
"What happened?"
She swallowed hard, wrapping her arms around herself as though trying to hold herself together. "It was earlier today. We were here, in the control room. Carter checked it first—he said it was safe." She paused, her breath hitching as she blinked back tears. "But there was one. A zombie. It must have been trapped behind one of the old lockers. It came out of nowhere."
Alex's jaw tightened. "And your husband?"
"He fought it," she said, her voice breaking. "He pushed me out of the way, but… it got him. Bit his arm before Carter managed to put it down."
Alex felt the weight of her words hit him like a punch to the gut. He'd seen it before—what happened to people once they were bitten. There was no coming back from it.
"Where is he now?" Alex asked.
Nora looked away, her shoulders shaking. "He told me to leave him behind," she said. "I… I couldn't do it. Carter and I tied him up in one of the storage rooms. He hasn't turned yet, but it's only a matter of time."
Alex exhaled slowly, the gravity of the situation sinking in. "I'm sorry," he said. "I know how hard this must be for you, but you know what has to be done."
She nodded, tears streaming down her face. "I know. I just… I didn't want the kids to see it. Not like that."
As Alex placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, he glanced back toward the control room. Carter stood near the kids, his back to the door.
Something gnawed at Alex's mind—a creeping doubt that refused to be ignored. "Nora," he said slowly, "how did Carter miss the zombie in the first place? He's usually thorough."
She hesitated, her brow furrowing. "I don't know," she admitted. "He said he checked every corner. He's been under a lot of stress… maybe he just overlooked it."
Alex nodded absently, but the unease didn't fade. His eyes narrowed as he studied Carter's posture. There was something off about the way he stood, the stiffness in his movements.
"Stay here," Alex said, his voice low.
"What is it?" Nora asked, her expression alarmed.
"Just stay with the kids," Alex said firmly.
He stepped into the control room, his gaze locked on Carter's back. The man didn't turn, even when Alex's boots scuffed against the floor.
"Hey, Carter," Alex said casually, testing the waters.
Carter turned slowly, his face bathed in the dim glow of the lantern. His expression was calm, but there was something in his eyes—something cold, detached.
"You all right?" Alex asked, keeping his tone neutral.
"Yeah," Carter replied, his voice steady. "Why wouldn't I be?"
Alex's eyes flicked to Carter's hands. There was a faint smear of blood on his sleeve, too dark and dried to be recent. His mind raced, piecing together fragments of the story.
"What really happened in that control room?" Alex asked, his voice hardening.
Carter's eyes narrowed. "I told you. The zombie must have been hiding. I didn't see it until it was too late."
"Funny," Alex said, stepping closer. "You're usually better than that."
Carter tensed, his hand hovering near his crowbar. "What are you trying to say, Alex?"
Alex's grip tightened on his knife. "I'm saying maybe we've got more to worry about than just Nora's husband."
The room fell silent, the tension thick enough to cut with a blade. Carter's eyes flicked to Alex's knife, then to the kids huddled in the corner.
"Careful, Alex," Carter said quietly. "You don't want to make this harder than it needs to be."
Alex's heart pounded as the doubts clawed at his mind. Was Carter just another survivor, desperate and exhausted? Or was he hiding something—something dangerous?
"I'm not letting anything happen to those kids," Alex said, his voice steady despite the storm raging inside him.
Carter's lips curled into a faint, humorless smile. "Neither am I."
The two men stood locked in a silent standoff, the weight of unspoken accusations hanging heavy in the air. Alex knew one thing for certain: the fight for survival was far from over, and the real danger might not just be outside the walls—they might already have let it in.