Chapter 5(i) – Unspoken truths [i]
POV: Scarlett
We didn't speak at first. Not really.
Just stared at the fence line, the craters left behind from the grenades, the mangled corpses that had once clawed through cities like unstoppable storms—now reduced to twitching heaps on the ground.
The silence was louder than the chaos.
Then a voice, too calm for what we'd just seen, rang out through a portable speaker.
"All survivors, remain calm. A briefing will commence in twenty minutes near the main tent."
No one moved right away.
I glanced around. Luke had that same unsettled look he wore when he couldn't fix something. Jane hugged her blanket again, lips pressed tight. Blair was still rubbing her arm, silent. Jonah tapped his fingers against his thigh, restless.
And Grey?
He hadn't said a word since the fighting stopped. He was sitting on a plastic crate, elbows on his knees, hands laced together—eyes fixed on nothing. Not even blinking.
I'd seen him cold before. Detached. But this was something else.
Like he'd put himself somewhere deep and locked the door.
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POV: Luke
"The hell was that?" Jonah muttered near me. "They moved like they were trained for this crap before the fall."
"They probably were," I said, voice low. "Or they knew something we didn't."
"That's what's bugging me," Scarlett added. "They weren't surprised. Not even a little."
We nodded in uneasy silence.
Minutes passed. The fire still glowed low. More survivors were filtering into the briefing area, drawn by quiet curiosity or leftover adrenaline. I helped Jane up. She hadn't said a word since the chaos, but her eyes were wide, searching.
When we reached the tent, I heard her gasp.
"What is it?" I asked.
But she didn't answer.
She was staring across the crowd.
Following her gaze, I saw Amy.
Alive. Wrapped in a similar blanket. Her eyes caught Jane's, and something unreadable passed between them. Regret, maybe. Relief. Guilt.
But before either could move, a man stepped up on a platform.
"Attention," he said, voice loud and clipped. "My name is Lieutenant Colonel Hagan. I know you have questions."
No one interrupted. The air felt like a held breath.
"The truth is, the government has been monitoring classified outbreaks and mutations for over a decade. We suspected something like this could happen. What we didn't expect was how fast it would spread."
Whispers rippled through the crowd.
"We're consolidating survivors. Everyone here will be moved to a central city—Sector One. Safer. More resources. But to make it work, we'll need volunteers."
He looked around.
"For defense. For scouting. For rebuilding."
His eyes locked briefly with mine.
"For war."
Grey finally moved.
He stood up slow, eyes sharper now. Still unreadable, but present again.
"Those interested in training, your orientation starts tomorrow morning. Everyone else—rest. You've survived another day."
The Lieutenant stepped down. Conversations erupted instantly.
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POV: Grey
I watched the crowd stir.
The girl Jane? Her hand kept twitching near her chest like she wanted to sing but didn't know how anymore. Amy stood nearby, not moving toward her. Smart. Some reunions hurt worse.
Scarlett, Luke, Blair, Jonah—they were all talking. Soft. Curious. Afraid.
But I wasn't listening to them.
The soldier had slipped.
He didn't say if it would happen again.
He said war.
I looked past the campfires, past the survivors and the fence and the corpses still twitching.
Something's coming.
And this time, it won't wait for us to be ready.
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