Chapter 2

Chloe didn't even spare me a glance as she handed Brandon the antidote.

"Brandon, the antidote is for you first."

Her tone was as casual as if she were handing him a bottle of water.

Brandon took the antidote, a flicker of unconcealed triumph in his eyes.

Chloe then handed me a small bottle of cloudy, transparent liquid.

She avoided my gaze. "It's a suppressor. It'll buy you some more time."

That cheap suppressor was utterly useless for an infection of my severity.

My voice was eerily calm.

"You know this won't help me."

Chloe's eyes darted away, and she frowned.

"Alex, don't be dramatic. Brandon is weak. What if he really is infected..."

I cut her off with a cold laugh.

"He hasn't been on a single mission since joining the team, and he has no wounds. How could he possibly be infected?"

Chloe's voice rose.

"That's just on the surface!"

"You know the zombie virus has a three-day incubation period! As captain, I have to be responsible for every team member!"

"You're my boyfriend, and the deputy captain. If I give the medicine to you and not him, what will the other team members think of me? How can I lead this team? I have to be fair!"

Always the same excuse.

The gray-white veins on my right arm were slowly creeping towards my shoulder, and the burning sensation under my skin was growing more intense with each passing moment.

I stared at her, taking a deep, ragged breath.

"So, my life is less important than your authority? You're just trying to fob me off with this pathetic suppressor?"

Chloe's face shifted.

"What kind of talk is that? I promised I'd go to the West District Research Facility tomorrow and bring back an antidote!"

"Can't you just trust me one more time?"

Before the apocalypse, in military academy, Chloe and I were the perfect team.

She commanded, I charged. She made the plans, I executed the details.

Everyone said we were meant to be.

On graduation day, she told me on the training grounds:

"Alex, you can trust me completely for the rest of your life."

After the apocalypse hit, I helped her build our survivor squad, willingly taking the role of deputy.

I let her take all the credit, and I took all the risks.

Three years. The team grew from seven to over forty. She became Captain Chloe, revered by everyone.

And what did I get in return?

A litany of "fairness," an endless "next time."

If my powers hadn't vanished after getting infected, leaving me zombie bait outside, I'd never rely on her to find an antidote.

I felt a deep weariness. "This isn't the first time you've promised."

She grabbed my hand, her eyes pleading.

"This time, I swear!"

"Just like every mission before, when you trusted me with your back. Alex, trust me one last time."

I looked at that hand, the one that used to tightly grip mine through hails of bullets, and heard myself say:

"Fine. One last time."

Chloe visibly relaxed.

"You go get some rest. I'll arrange tomorrow's team and route. Everything will be fine tomorrow."

I turned and left, without looking back.

As soon as I stepped outside, I heard Brandon's hushed voice:

"Chloe, he was so scary just now. What if he's already..."

Chloe's tone was soothing. "Don't be scared, he'll be fine for now."

Back in the isolation room, I leaned against the wall and slid to the floor.

The burning sensation in my right arm grew steadily worse.

This was my second day infected with the zombie virus.

According to the usual infection progression, I should be showing early signs of muscle rigidity and sensory degradation by now.

But I wasn't.

Apart from the burning and occasional sharp pangs, my mind was unnervingly clear.

The strangest thing was, I felt something awakening inside me.

From the distant ruins, zombie roars echoed, rising and falling.

That wasn't the sound of a small horde.

The camp's outer defenses, without my powers to reinforce them, wouldn't hold for long.

I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms.

Tomorrow would be the third day.

Chloe, this is the last chance I'm giving you.