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Shots and Smiles [ii]
Chapter 7(ii)
POV: Scarlett
I woke up to the hum of restless boots and metallic clatter. Morning light spilled through the gaps in the tarp roof, painting soft gold across the dust. A soldier yelled something about schedules, but my mind was slow to catch up.
I sat up, blinking against the noise. The others were already moving.
Grey stood near the weapons rack, adjusting a strap across his chest. His face was unreadable as always—just another day. Just another mission.
Blair bumped into Jonah while pulling her boots on. "Try not to shoot your own foot this time."
Jonah grinned. "No promises."
Jane passed me a canteen. "You sleep okay?"
I nodded. "You?"
She hesitated. "As good as anyone can with a symphony of moans playing two rooms down."
Luke chuckled from the side. "At least someone's making the most of our limited resources."
Blair added, "We should put up a scoreboard. Grey's already winning."
I caught Grey glance our way briefly, then look back to his gear like none of it mattered.
Of course.
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POV: Jonah
They paired us up after roll call.
Me and Scarlett—fun combo.
Luke was with Jane.
Blair somehow got stuck shadowing the old warhero micah.
Grey, unexpectedly, was assigned solo recon. No one questioned it.
I leaned toward Scarlett as we walked to the trucks. "So, what's the over-under on us surviving this mission?"
She didn't blink. "Depends on if you keep talking."
"Ouch," I said, holding a hand to my chest. "And here I thought we were bonding."
She checked her rifle. "Just stay sharp."
I gave a low whistle. "You really know how to sweet-talk a guy."
She didn't even look at me.
This was gonna be fun.
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POV: Luke
We were briefed just outside the checkpoint walls. The map was crude—half-sketched from satellite memory, half scrawled in pencil.
"Zone F is high-risk," the soldier pointed out. "Multiple sightings. Possibly evolved types."
Evolved. That word had been showing up more often.
Jane tightened her grip on the map. "So we go in quiet, confirm what we can, get out fast."
I nodded. "Simple. Theoretically."
"Don't jinx it," she muttered.
There was an edge to her voice I hadn't heard before.
Something about this mission had her on edge.
Or maybe it was the dream she mentioned before lights out—something about tunnels, crying, a door that wouldn't open.
Didn't ask.
Didn't need to.
We all carried ghosts.
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POV: Blair
They didn't even try to sugarcoat it—"recon basics," they called it. Just a polite way of saying: "Hey, wanna go walk into the dark and hope nothing eats you?"
My partner for the day? A guy named Micah. Mid-30s. Buzz cut. Quiet. Ex-military, I think—but not the gung-ho type. More like someone who saw too much and learned to shut up about it.
"You always this quiet?" I asked as we moved uphill toward the watchpoint.
He glanced over with a dry smirk. "Only when I like someone."
I blinked, then laughed. "Well damn. That's the nicest thing anyone's said to me this week."
"Long week?" he asked, scanning the treeline.
"Grey's moaning kept half the camp up. That count?"
Micah didn't flinch. "Better him than one of the corpses."
I snorted. "Solid point."
He gestured toward the dried blood near an overturned fence. "See that?"
"Yeah."
"Something dragged a body through here. Recently. Claw marks are too clean for weathering."
I frowned. "So they're getting smarter?"
"Or hungrier." He paused. "Either way, don't rely on fences."
The wind shifted, carrying a scent I couldn't place—something metallic and wrong. I opened my mouth to say something—
Then it hit.
A roar.
Deep. Animalistic. But not like any animal I'd ever heard.
It echoed across the ruins, rolled through the trees, bounced off the hills.
I froze. So did Micah.
"Shit," he said quietly. "That wasn't thunder."
And just like that, the sky began to churn—clouds twisting above us like smoke pulled by invisible fingers.
We started running.
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POV: Scarlett
We reached the edge of the ruins by midday.
The city beyond was silent—too silent.
Jonah crouched low beside me, scanning the street. "It's like the dead are holding their breath."
I nodded. Something didn't feel right.
We swept a few buildings—old markets, a busted clinic. Most were empty. One had blood, but no bodies. Another had scratch marks too high to be human.
Jonah whispered, "That normal?"
"Nope."
We kept going.
Then we hear it
Loud.
Unnatural.
We start running.
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POV: Grey
I moved through the overgrown blocks alone, steps light, breath steady.
No chatter.
No mistakes.
It was easier that way.
I spotted movement on a rooftop two blocks over—too quick for a crawler, too light for a soldier.
I paused, eyes narrowing.
It was gone the next second.
A shadow? A scout?
Didn't matter.
I marked it down and kept moving.
Just recon.
Just enough truth to hand over—and just enough to keep for myself.
Grey (flashback)
Consciousness came slow.
My limbs were heavy. My breath felt filtered, shallow—like breathing through cloth.
Glass surrounded me. Curved edges, cold fog trailing the surface. Beyond it, blurred lights flickered in sterile white.
I couldn't move. I didn't want to.
Then—
His voice.
Dad.
He stood just outside the chamber, a tablet in hand, face pale and sleepless.
"They won't understand," he muttered, pacing. "But it's not about control. It's about evolving… before they do."
He paused, resting his fingers lightly on the glass.
"I'm sorry, Grey. I should've told you more. I should've—" He broke off.
His next words were barely audible.
"I love you, son."
A siren flared somewhere distant—then everything cut to black.
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POV: Grey (present)
I blinked back into the now—eyes scanning rooftops, windows, corners of broken homes.
That roar…
I start heading back to base....