DEAD END

The white, almost sparkling particles scattered randomly over the patch of dirt with each delicate swing of her hand, giving it an appearance that reminded her of powdered sugar icing. She grabbed the hand rake and proceeded to mix it all evenly into the soil. Once she was done, she inched forward a little bit on her knees, and repeated the entire process on a different patch of dirt.

Claire had spent the last couple of hours working on the crops that covered the courtyard of the building. Her mind was so absorbed into it that she barely heard William approaching her from behind.

"We've finished loading the truck with supplies and weapons. We'll be leaving soon." he said.

"I see. I'll try to hurry up. I'll join you as soon as I can." Claire kept working the soil in silence for a while. "I said you could count on me for this, but I don't think I'll be able to do much after all, right…?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I get the feeling we won't be back for a while… I don't think I'll be able to properly care for these plants until their next harvest. I can give them one last meal before I go, but…"

"It's okay. You did what you could." William took one last look at the courtyard before he turned around and started walking away, back towards the door he came from. "Take your time."

Claire watched him as he disappeared into the darkness of the building.

'This place still reminds him of her, doesn't it…?'

"Alright, come on… You need to eat well…!" she said, while applying another handful of fertilizer.

The leaves shined under the morning sunlight, thankful for still receiving love and care in a world that had none left to offer.

******

"Turn right…"

…

"Alright, um… Go left."

…

"Is that a roundabout ahead? Okay, take… the second exit, I think?"

…

Nora's directions came at irregular delays, full of reluctance and self-skepticism. However, she never had second thoughts once she decided on any particular direction.

On most occasions, she'd indicate the correct path to take right away. Sometimes, they'd need to stop the truck momentarily, as she seemed to suffer from mild headaches when trying to focus too hard on her thoughts. Or visions. Or voices, or whatever they were.

William watched her groan while she rubbed her forehead in the passenger's seat. He sighed. There were many things on his mind, but he chose not to bother her with them. He kept his hand on the wheel, and his foot on the pedal, awaiting her signal.

"Nora… Are you okay…?" asked Claire, peeking from the cargo compartment trough the rear window of the cab.

"Yes, I'm fine… It just… hurts." she answered, resting her head against the headrest. Some moments later, with her eyes closed, she raised her right arm, pointing towards a nearby street. "…that way."

William put up with the situation and diligently followed her instructions. And it wasn't because he believed in what was going on inside her head. No, the reason was a lot more tangible.

Every so often, they'd run into subtle, yet obvious hints along the road. Knocked-over cars. Shambler corpses scattered around, crushed under the weight of something big and heavy. Skid marks on the asphalt. When connecting the dots, the result was crystal clear: they were following a trail.

'Well, she's onto something. I can't deny that.'

…

The truck spent several hours following Nora's indications throughout the city, until midday. They drove a good distance north along the riverbank, until they were able to cross it by means of a still intact bridge. Then, they made their way along a swirly but well-defined path west.

It wasn't a straightforward journey by any means. The shambler population in the western districts of the city was, unfortunately, quite healthy. The smaller groups proved to be insufficient to stop the truck, getting pushed away or trampled over with ease. When encountering particularly massive hordes, they had to take long detours in order to avoid getting surrounded or buried under the crowds.

William's stress was building up fast. That kind of travelling was dangerous. He could think of many, many ways in which their safety could get compromised. In comparison to his usual practices using the rooftops, driving was reckless. However, in order to move a sizeable group of people over long distances, along with all the necessary supplies, it was the only option.

It was pretty obvious that Nora and Claire wouldn't want to be left behind, William had assumed they'd join Lilian's rescue operation from the very start. Marcus' intentions, however, were ambiguous. He seemed too involved with everything to even fathom the idea of him staying behind, but his involvement was a mystery in itself. He knew way too many things, and shared way too little. William hated it, but there was nothing he could do about it. Threatening him at gunpoint or beating the crap out of him would achieve nothing except discourage him from helping them. And they needed his help.

Then, there was Desmond. Not a single one of the survivors from the subway shelter volunteered to go with them, but Desmond was eager. No wonder why, since they were headed west, and that's where his wife and daughter had been sent. There were no guarantees that their trip would lead them to the hospital, but William couldn't help but feel like all these coincidences were an augury of things to come.

William still hadn't said a word to him, not since their exchange after the subway incident. He still didn't know what to say, or how to handle him. Claire was the one who talked to him. He was thankful for it; that way he was able to keep him out of his head and focus on more important, immediate matters.

Like, for example, keeping the truck safe on the road. He turned the steering wheel, zig-zagging around crashed vehicles, following Nora's finger wherever it pointed.

******

"Is it an interesting read?" Claire was startled and brought out of her trance by Marcus' voice.

Carelessness? Perhaps. There was nothing Marcus could say to earn her trust, but she had inadvertently lowered her guard by getting immersed in that book. It made her uneasy, especially given the fact that there were several weapons available on the back of the truck.

"Y-Yeah…? Why do you care…?" she replied.

Marcus took a look at the cover of her book, squinting his eyes a bit from the opposite corner of the compartment.

"That's an entomology book… It's nothing, I was just curious."

"Hmpf…!"

Watching him out of the corner of her eye, she went back to the pages. Whenever she wasn't hanging out with her friends, studying or working out, Claire had always been a bookworm. She used to love reading, and she'd constantly be looking out for more interesting books to consume.

Despite how calm the last couple of hours had been, she knew the situation could take a drastic turn at any moment. Still, she'd rather read than stare at the walls. She had chosen that specific book on a stupid hunch; she wasn't particularly fond of insects, but it gave her peace of mind nonetheless. She hadn't delved into the intricate delicacy of written words since a while ago.

…

The truck came to a full stop, like so many times before. But it hadn't been because of Nora's headaches. If it was, William wouldn't have turned the engine off.

"Hey…" William's voice came from the front of the vehicle. "Something's not right. We should check this out."

Claire put the book down and rushed to the cab window.

"What's the matter? Is it about Lilian!?" she asked.

William didn't give her an answer. He gave Claire a signal with his hand, pointing at Nora, who had a look of distress all over her face.

"I… I can't hear her voice…! I can't hear her anymore…!!"

"What…!?"

'What if she…? No, no, that couldn't be…! Please, Lilian, be safe…!'

"Also, take a look at that." William dragged her attention towards the windshield. "Jesus Christ…"

Right in front of the truck, Claire saw a disturbing scene. Destroyed cars piling on top of each other and scattered all over the street, cracks on the asphalt, signs of structural damage on the surrounding buildings… But if she had to point something out, it'd be the blood. The blood, and the meaty remains that littered the area, along with the corpses of several shamblers.

"Oh, dear god, is that…? Oh… Ugh…" the sight didn't sit well with her stomach.

In the middle of the road, flipped over on its side, there was a blue van.

"T-That van…!" said Nora, starting to freak out for real. "They ran away in that van…!!"

"Are you sure about that?" asked William.

"I could recognize it anywhere, I swear…! That's their van…! No… Lilian…!"

"Alright… You two, stay here." William turned on his seat and faced directly towards the back compartment. "Marcus, you're coming with me! We need to take a look around…"

******

Just as William had suspected, trying to outrun that creature was a mistake, even with a vehicle. He was surprised they had even made it that far. And of course, that scenario spelled bad news for everyone. If they couldn't get away with a car, trying to do it on foot would be madness.

'Among these remains, maybe… I hope it's not the case, but…'

There were blood and body parts everywhere. On the road, sprayed on top of nearby cars… William paid special attention to the size of the remains. None of those arms or legs looked small enough to belong to Lilian. Those poor devils had been ripped to pieces with unfathomable ferocity, but the girl didn't seem to be among them. That, or she had been completely obliterated into smithereens.

'Nora says she can't hear her anymore… Damn it, this looks bad…'

Marcus' footsteps approached him from behind, just as he spotted something peculiar among the bodies. Weapons. Some of the corpses still held tight onto their rifles, and their clothes had unmistakable camouflage patterns. Those whose bodies were still recognizable as human wore protective vests, along with all sorts of military-grade equipment.

"These guys are…"

"Soldiers." said Marcus. "There was a team stationed here…"

"And…? What does that tell us?"

"Nothing, I'm afraid… We have no radio. I can't contact them. I'm not aware of their current situation…"

"Shit… Well, the girl doesn't seem to be here anyway. Somehow, she slipped away. What now?"

"Saint Marie Hospital is nearby. Perhaps it'd be a good idea to go take a look? We sent enough people there to form a small, active community. Maybe someone heard or saw something?"

"Alright… Let's grab whatever we can use, and let's get going. This place is giving me the creeps."

'So, we are going to that hospital after all. It doesn't even surprise me by this point…'

He looked at Nora, who observed him from the truck, anxiously biting her nails. He combed the area with his eyes one last time, then he looked at her again and shook his head. She got the message. She left her nails alone, closed her eyes and curled into a ball on the passenger's seat.

'I sure hope the girl is okay…'

******

Those people weren't soldiers, Marcus was absolutely sure of it. Even If their uniforms were similar to those of the Army, their equipment didn't meet any standard regulations. They were no ordinary soldiers, but special forces. Unofficial ones. And he had a pretty good idea of their identity.

While William was busy gathering weapons and gear from the fallen ones, he performed a more detailed observation of the surroundings.

On the floor, tucked against some debris, he spotted a small metal object. Shaped like a canister, it didn't take long for him to identify it as some sort of smoke grenade. He picked it up and inspected it. It was spent.

He analyzed the bodies that were left relatively intact after the slaughter. One of them caught his attention. Maimed and thrown against one of the cars, the impact probably killed him on the spot. Something peeked from one of the pockets on his vest. A small object, rectangular in shape. Marcus grabbed it, and proceeded to open it. It was a small container, with a soft, cushioned interior which housed a syringe. The barrel was empty.

'Alright… I think I have an idea of what happened here…'

Those findings did nothing but aggravate his suspicions. Those people were on the move. They were running out of time, and Lilian was in the eye of the storm.

He needed to get in contact with the Army as soon as possible. He needed a radio. And Saint Marie Hospital had the closest one he knew of.

******

"HQ, do you copy? This is Prometheus-01, we're approaching the site of Hephaestus' last known transmission. Over."

"We hear you, Prometheus. Proceed with caution. The situation in that sector remains unknown. You're going in blind."

"Roger that."

The soldier's eyes scanned the surroundings through the visor with pinpoint accuracy as he advanced towards the site, one careful step after another. His rifle followed the trail of his sight, ready to open fire at the slightest sign of danger. Behind him, another four soldiers followed after his steps.

"The target is about twenty meters ahead. Get ready for contact. PT-02 and PT-03, keep an eye on the buildings. PT-04 and PT-05, watch our six. We're moving in."

"Understood." four different voices gave their confirmation one after another, and the entire team walked as a single entity.

As they advanced, their boots soon started to leave behind a line of bloody footprints. The scene was that of a gruesome massacre. A blue van rested on its side in the middle of the street, surrounded by debris and body parts.

"HQ, this is Prometheus-01. We've reached the target. Hephaestus seems to have engaged in combat with unidentified hostiles. Over."

"What's their status?"

"In pieces."

"Acknowledged."

"Given the state of the bodies and the surrounding area, this is unlikely to be the work of lower-class entities. It's viable to assume the presence of a praetorian in the city."

"Report received, Prometheus."

"Should we proceed with the operation as originally planned?"

"Affirmative. Should the aggressor's identity be confirmed to be a praetorian, avoid contact with it at all costs until we're able to provide you with further support. Otherwise, proceed as planned."

"Roger that."