When I reached the house, I stopped the motorbike and let the engine tick quietly in the evening air. The sun was hanging low, painting everything in that amber light that made even our ramshackle neighborhood look almost beautiful. Six pm on the dot—three hours past Rachel's new curfew. I could already see her silhouette in the doorway, arms crossed, waiting.

Fuel was becoming more precious than gold these days. Twenty-three liters left in our communal supply, and every trip I took on the Honda was eating into reserves we'd need for the generator when winter hit. I should really start using one of the bicycles from now on, even though it would mean longer trips and sore legs. The motorcycle was faster, more comfortable, and could carry more weight, but comfort was a luxury we couldn't afford much longer.

After carefully parking the motorbike on the porch, I shouldered my heavy backpack and grabbed the plastic bag full of additional supplies. When I raised my gaze, Rachel was standing there exactly as I'd expected—arms crossed, wearing that stern expression that somehow made her look more like a disappointed teacher than a survivor of the apocalypse.

"Rachel. Good evening," I said, trying to inject some warmth into my voice despite my fatigue.

"Good evening, Ryan." Her tone was carefully controlled, but I could hear the edge underneath. "I told you to be back by three from now on."

I gestured to the bulging backpack and the stuffed plastic bag. "Got caught up in too many good finds. Lost track of time out there."

She shifted her weight, studying my face in the fading light. "Rebecca said this morning that you're spending most of your time outside because you don't like being with us. That you can't stand seeing us anymore."

Of course Rebecca would say something like that. Even Liu Mei had been warming up to me lately, but Rebecca remained consistently suspicious of my motives. It was exhausting, honestly.

"That's not true," I said, climbing the small steps with my heavy load.

Rachel moved to help me with the bag, but I shook my head. "It's fine. I'll take everything to the kitchen first."

I pushed through the screen door, immediately hit by the warm, lived-in smell of the house—lentils cooking, wood smoke from the fireplace, and that indefinable scent of people making do with what they had. It was comforting in a way that always surprised me.

Entering the living room, I saw Daisy sitting on the sofa with Alisha, the two of them talking quietly about something while Ivy sat in the armchair reading a book by candlelight. Electricity was an extremely rare resource now, so reading actual books had become the primary form of entertainment during the long evenings. When I entered, all three lifted their gazes toward me.

"Oh, Ryan..." Daisy called, turning toward me with a mixture of relief and curiosity.

"Good evening," I replied to them before heading straight to the kitchen to start unpacking everything I'd brought back from my scavenging run.

The kitchen table groaned under the weight of my backpack as I set it down and began emptying the contents. Rachel followed me in, leaning against the doorframe for a moment before moving to help organize the supplies.

"How was your day?" she asked, her tone softening now that we were away from the others.

"Productive," I said, pulling out bundles of candles and setting them on the counter. "Went through three houses in the outskirts district. One had been completely stripped already, but the other two were goldmines." I paused, remembering the small face of that girl, those clouded eyes staring up at me. The weight of what I'd had to do settled on my shoulders again.

Rachel must have noticed the slight shift in my expression because she spoke up. "Anything else happen out there?"

I shook my head, focusing on arranging jars of preserved food on the shelf. "Nothing unusual. Same routine as always. Found some good medical supplies, these candles, some spices that'll make our meals taste like actual food for once." I held up a small tin of cinnamon. "What about you? How was your day here?"

"Worked around the house mostly. Did some cooking, helped Daisy with the laundry. Fixed that loose board on the back porch." She paused, watching me stack canned goods. "I wanted you to eat lunch with us, but at least you're here now for dinner."

I set down a jar of honey and turned to face her. The golden light from the candle on the windowsill caught in her hair, and for a moment I was struck by how normal this felt…

"Actually, forget about dinner for me tonight," I said. "Don't make any portion for me. I'm tired and not really hungry."

There was an unusual silence that settled between us, and I knew exactly what Rachel was thinking. She was worried about me, about the way I'd been pulling away from the group, spending more and more time on solo runs.

I glanced at her as she grasped my hand mid-motion, stopping me as I reached for a kitchen utensil to put away.

"Is there a problem, Ryan?" She asked, her voice gentle but insistent.

I looked back at her, taking in the genuine concern in her eyes. "Problem? What kind of problem?"

"From everyone's perspective, it looks like you have a problem," she said, shaking her head slightly. "Like something's bothering you that you're not talking about."

I shook my head, continuing to organize the supplies. "You're worrying about nothing, Rachel. I'm just focused on practical things. Like figuring out how I'm supposed to explain everything about the Screamers and that alien race to the Municipal Office without getting treated like a complete madman."

Her expression relaxed slightly. "They'll hear you out, Ryan. Margaret and Martin—they trust you, you know?"

"Yeah, but even they must have limits," I replied, putting away a set of kitchen knives I'd found. "There's only so much crazy a person can accept before they start questioning your judgment entirely."

Rachel was quiet for a moment, then asked, "Have you talked to Christopher about it?"

The question made me pause, my hand stopping mid-motion as I reached for a bottle of olive oil. Christopher. Even hearing his name was like picking at a scab that wouldn't heal properly.

"I haven't had the chance to see him," I replied after a moment, my voice carefully neutral.

"You go to the Municipal Office often enough, don't you? You must have seen him at least once during those visits?" Rachel pressed.

"Not really." I focused intently on arranging spice containers. "He has his own responsibilities to deal with, and I have mine. Our paths just don't cross that often."

Rachel reached out and grasped my arm again, stopping my restless organizing. "Ryan, look at me."

I turned to meet her eyes.

"You know you can talk to us if you need help with something, right? Any kind of help?" Her voice was earnest, concerned.

I found myself smiling slightly at her expression, and without really thinking about it, I reached out and touched her cheek gently.

"R... Ryan?" Rachel stuttered, her cheeks immediately flushing red.

"You're already helping me more than you know, Rachel," I said softly.

Rachel's blush deepened, and she seemed flustered by the unexpected intimacy of the gesture. "I... I wasn't talking about that kind of help! I meant moral support! Physical help with tasks! That kind of help!"

The more she spoke, the more embarrassed she seemed to get, which only made the situation more awkward.

"I wasn't talking about anything inappropriate either…" I said, letting my hand drop slowly. I had simply meant that her presence, her concern, her steady reliability—all of that was more support than she probably realized.

"Have you two finished flirting?" Alisha's voice suddenly cut through the moment as she appeared at the kitchen doorway, arms crossed and wearing an expression of amused exasperation.

I dropped my hand entirely from Rachel's face, both of us stepping back slightly.

"Alisha," I said, turning back to my unpacking to hide my own embarrassment. "Something wrong?"

"Yes, actually. Sydney went outside about two hours ago saying she wanted to test something. It's getting dark now and she still hasn't come back. We're starting to get worried."

I paused in my organizing, feeling that familiar mix of concern and exasperation that Sydney always managed to inspire. Of course she was missing. Of course she'd gone off on her own without telling anyone where she was going or when she'd be back.

"Sydney..." I sighed internally, already knowing exactly what she was probably up to.

"I'll go bring her back," I said, already mentally preparing for another trip out into the gathering darkness. "It's fine. I know where she probably is."

Rachel started to move toward the door. "Let me get my coat and I'll come with—"

"No," I said, shaking my head. "You stay here. Someone needs to keep an eye on things, and it's better if I go alone. I can move faster that way, and Sydney will probably be more responsive if it's just me."

Rachel looked like she wanted to argue, but after a moment she nodded reluctantly. "At least eat something before you go. You said you weren't hungry, but you need to keep your strength up."

Before I could protest, Daisy appeared in the doorway with a steaming mug. "Bean broth," she announced, pressing it into my hands. "It's not much, but it's warm and it has salt."

I accepted the mug gratefully and drank it down despite the heat. The liquid was thin and barely qualified as food, but it was something, and the warmth felt good as it settled in my stomach.

"Thanks, Daisy," I said, handing back the empty mug.

Ten minutes later, I had swapped my scavenging gear for lighter equipment—just the essential weapons and a flashlight. I wheeled the mountain bike out of the shed, checking the chain and tires out of habit. The bike was in good condition thanks to Rachel's insistent regular maintenance, but it was still a far cry from the speed and convenience of the motorcycle.

As I prepared to leave, Rachel appeared on the porch, wrapping her arms around herself against the cooling evening air.

"Be careful out there," she said. "And bring Sydney home in one piece. She promised to help me with inventory tomorrow."

"I'll bring her back," I promised, swinging my leg over the bike. "Try not to worry too much. She's probably just lost track of time."

Though even as I said it, I suspected Sydney's absence was more complicated than simple time mismanagement. She'd been restless lately, ever since she'd made that insane decision to intentionally infect herself to awaken the Dullahan virus inside her.

I knew she was a crazy girl but clearly after she got purposefully get bitten by an Infected just too awaken a super power, I lost all hope to understand her.

The ride to the stadium took about twenty-five minutes on the bike, my legs working steadily as I navigated the empty streets. The city felt different at this time of day—not quite night but no longer day, caught in that liminal space where shadows stretched long and every sound seemed amplified.

I'd been making this particular trip more often lately, ever since Sydney had started her "training sessions." The old high school stadium had become her preferred testing ground for the abilities that were slowly manifesting as a result of her intentional infection. It was isolated enough to avoid attracting attention, but close enough to reach quickly if something went wrong.

The thought of what she'd done still made me want to shake her until her teeth rattled. One week ago, she deliberately let an Infected bite on her arm.

The Dullahan virus was dormant in her system since that night. But she awakened it by forcing the Dullahan Virus awake by getting herself bitten.

Now she was different. Faster, stronger, with reflexes that seemed almost supernatural. But she was also more reckless, more willing to push boundaries that should probably be left alone. Hence these solo training sessions that had everyone worried.

The stadium loomed ahead, dark against the darkening sky. The old floodlights that had once illuminated Friday night football games had been dark for months now, leaving the structure as just another abandoned monument to the world that used to be.

I hid the bike behind the ticket booth and approached the main entrance on foot. The chain-link gates had been left open—probably by Sydney when she'd arrived. I slipped through and made my way down the concrete tunnel that led from the entrance to the field level.

As I walked, I could hear something unusual—a rhythmic whooshing sound, like wind being displaced at high speed. Then silence. Then the sound again, coming from the direction of the field.

When I emerged from the tunnel onto the synthetic turf, the scene that greeted me was both impressive and deeply concerning. The field was mostly empty in the gathering darkness, illuminated only by the pale light of the rising moon. But there was movement—a blur of motion that was almost too fast to track with the naked eye.

A flash of blue streaked from one end zone to the other, covering the hundred-yard distance in what seemed like less than two seconds. The blur moved in complex patterns around the field—figure eights, spirals, sudden stops and starts that should have been physically impossible.

It was Sydney, and she was moving faster than any human being had a right to move.

I stood at the edge of the field, watching this display with a mixture of awe and exasperation. Part of me was genuinely impressed by what she'd achieved—the virus had clearly granted her abilities that were beyond anything we'd seen before. But another part of me was annoyed by her recklessness, her willingness to push these new limits without proper safety measures or supervision.

The blur suddenly stopped in the center of the field, and Sydney's form became visible as she came to a halt. Even from fifty yards away, I could see that she was breathing hard but not exhausted—the kind of controlled exertion of someone who was testing their limits rather than exceeding them.

She turned toward the tunnel, somehow sensing my presence despite the distance and dim light. When she spotted me, she raised one hand in a casual wave, as if being discovered moving at superhuman speeds was just a minor inconvenience.

"Hey Ryan!" She called out, her voice carrying easily across the field. "Come to check up on me?"

If you find any errors ( broken links, non-standard content, etc.. ), Please let us know < report chapter > so we can fix it as soon as possible.