Page 4 of X-Clan The Origin

He grunted again and shifted on his heel, ignoring me.

“I’m not weak,” I told him as I followed. “And there’s barely anything in that escape kit. I can carry it.”

He didn’t reply, instead leading me down the white corridor of the residence hall.

We were deep underground here, which meant we needed to head up to reach the airfield.

The alarms outside confirmed it was those walls that had been breached. It would take hours, if not days, for the Infected to find a way to tunnel their way to us. There was a chance they’d never make it.

But the airfield was a very different story.

We had a significant army upstairs that was likely in the process of protecting the grounds.

And shooting everything that moves,I thought, my mood plummeting.

The brain-eating amoeba had mutated into a disease that made humans mindless flesh-eaters. And I’d spent the better part of the last five years trying to find a solution.

While humans just… killed each other.

That was their solution—to battle what they didn’t understand and remove the wounded rather than help them.

Jonas glanced down at me as he called for the elevator, his gaze assessing.

I didn’t remark on his penchant for staring this time.

I just focused on the slatted doors as they opened, and stepped inside, resigned to the fate that awaited us above ground.

Jonas stood in front of me, blocking my view and taking on a protective position as we began to ascend. He dropped my bag to the floor and pulled out a gun, his stance telling me he was focused on whatever he heard above.

I didn’t allow myself to listen.

I’d been living with screams for too long.

Sobs. Unfathomable sounds.Death.

I shivered, the urge to wrap my arms around myself hitting me hard. But I knew better than to give in to the sensation of desolation.

Crying didn’t solve the situation.

Nothing did, I thought sourly.Nothing works. Nothing fixes this. The humans let it mutate beyond repair.

I hated blaming them, but I couldn’t help it. The mortal politicians were the ones who had turned the outbreak into a political debate rather than a public health discussion.

They hadn’t listened to the researchers or the physicians in charge. They’d only attempted to speak from their sides of the political playing field.

And the whole world had paid for their ignorance.

A wave of balmy air hit me as the doors opened, the Georgia heat overwhelming and unwelcome. We were about ninety miles northeast of Atlanta, having taken refuge in an underground facility very few knew about near the border with North Carolina.

But from the sounds echoing outside, it was clear that a horde of Infected had come in from the city and found us here in the hills of the Appalachian Mountains.

Gunshots reverberated through the air, making me wince.

Shouts followed.

I closed my eyes and stole a deep breath.There’s nothing you can do to save them right now. Just survive and keep searching.It was a mantra I often repeated to—

A heavy hand landed on my lower back, yanking me back into the present.