Page 3 of Glass Rose (Where Roses Rot #1)

My feet carry me automatically while my brain spins.

R-naught factor of at least 6, maybe higher with direct fluid transmission.

Incubation period accelerating—Mia turned in what, three minutes?

That’s impossible unless—oh god, they must have modified the protein coat structure beyond what I saw in the data, or transmission over bite is way more potent.

Mortality rate 100%. Survival odds… fuck, survival odds minimal, even with immediate evacuation protocols.

If this gets past the facility perimeter, if it reaches the homeless encampment two miles east, if it hits the city water supply—extinction-level event within weeks.

None of it good. Not a single number that doesn’t spell catastrophe.

But the thing that is gnawing at me the most—how did it escape our sector? The alarm triggered instantly. Was there another breach point? Or had someone else been conducting unauthorized tests, and that’s why the test subjects were still there?

None of it makes sense!

We reach a junction where the corridor splits three ways. I hesitate, trying to orient myself. Was it right or left? The middle?

“This way.” I point to the right passage. “Should lead to the auxiliary labs, then the maintenance shaft.”

Alex nods, following close behind me. We take three steps before a scream echoes from somewhere ahead of us. Human, terrified—then abruptly cut short.

“Maybe we should try another way,” Alex says.

“There is no other way.” I retrieve my keycard, gripping it like a talisman. “This is the only route that bypasses the main research floors.”

The screaming starts again, closer now, accompanied by the sound of footsteps. Someone’s coming our way. Fast.

“Hide.” Alex pulls me into a supply closet and leaves the door cracked open just enough for us to see through.

A technician I vaguely recognize—from Biochem, maybe?

—sprints into view, lab coat torn and bloody.

He glances back over his shoulder, terror etched into every line of his face.

Behind him, shuffling but gaining, come three infected.

Former colleagues, their clothes stained with blood, movements jerky.

“Help me!” the technician cries, spotting our open door. “Please!”

“Shut the door.” Alex fights my hold on it. “Shut it now.”

If I save him, I risk exposing us. If I don’t…

The technician reaches for our door just as the Infected catch up, drag him down, and tear into him. Blood splatters the wall opposite our hiding place, and the man’s screams turn to gurgles, then silence .

Alex slowly closes the door, his face slick with sweat. “We would have died too.”

Another death on my conscience. Another life I failed to save.

Another scream slices through the air, and the sound of chewing meat outside our door stops. Shuffling. Footsteps fading beneath the wail of the alarm.

Alex’s breath tickles my ear. “Wait.”

We hold perfectly still, counting heartbeats. Ten. Twenty. Thirty.

I ease the door open, wincing at the slight creak of hinges. The corridor gleams with fresh blood. What remains of the technician lies in a crumpled heap—less a person now than raw materials.

“Clear?” Alex whispers.

“For now.”

We slip out, sidestepping the corpse. I keep my eyes forward, but the metallic scent of blood coats my tongue, makes my stomach heave.

“Which way?” Alex scans the junction, his body coiled tight.

I point right. “Through there.”

The auxiliary lab doors stand open, glass shattered across the floor. Inside, equipment lies overturned, chairs tossed like toys. Blood smears the workstations. I’m about to hit the light switch when Alex catches my wrist.

“Don’t.” His voice drops to a whisper. “Light attracts them.”

“How do you know that?”

“Educated guess.”

The maintenance shaft access lies just beyond the next door.

“Stay close to me.” I pick my way between lab benches. “Don’t touch anything. ”

It’s eerily quiet, rows of refrigeration units humming softly, preserving biological samples and various solutions. Some glow faintly in the dim light, casting alien shadows across the floor.

My coffee mug from earlier today sits beside my computer, the liquid filmed over. Was it only today that I was sitting here, finalizing my plans to expose the facility? It feels like years ago. A different lifetime. A different person.

My legs suddenly refuse to cooperate, and I stumble against the sample refrigerator. Glass tubes clink together as it rocks from my weight.

Just a minute. One minute to catch my breath.

“Alex, I—” I whip my head around, peering through the gloom. “Alex?”

He’s gone.

“Alex!” I hiss, louder this time, fear clawing up my throat.

Nothing.

He was right behind me. How could he just disappear? Did he turn back? Get snatched by something lurking in the shadows?

Every sound amplifies—my heartbeat, my breathing, the soft whir. And… something else. A wet, shuffling sound from the far corner of the lab.

I’m not alone.

My eyes strain. The corner where we keep the centrifuge is cast in shadow, but something moves there.

“Hello?” My hand slaps over my mouth. Am I stupid?

The figure shuffles forward, and my heart stops. Dr. Brown, head of my research division. The man who recruited me. The man who gradually revealed the true nature of our work, one small ethical compromise at a time.

His lab coat hangs in tatters, soaked with blood that appears black in the poor light. His mouth, often curved in condescending smiles, hangs slack, dripping with thick fluid.

“Dr. Brown.” I back away slowly. “James. It’s me. Sofia.”

No recognition flickers in those milky eyes. Just hunger. Primal and absolute.

I retreat until my back hits the sample refrigerator.

Nowhere left to go. He advances. I grope blindly along the lab bench beside me, searching for anything that could serve as a weapon.

A metal tray—the one we use for tissue samples—meets my desperate fingers.

Not much of a defense, but it’s all I have.

“I’m sorry.” I raise the tray as he surges for me, teeth bared. “I’m so fucking sorry.”

The tray won’t save me. Nothing will. In this moment, as my former mentor’s blood-stained hands seek me out, I know with absolute certainty that I’m going to die.

And it’s exactly what I deserve.