CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Day three of the new world, and Olivia learned that the apocalypse involved a lot of walking.
The helicopter never came. The radio Lucas carried crackled with static and fragmented reports—military units overwhelmed, safe zones established in stadiums and government buildings, something called the “Pale Legion" sweeping through the eastern suburbs. Lucas's contact was dead or missing.
They couldn't stay at Ironhaven forever. The gym's water supply was limited, and the loading dock door was now a gaping invitation to anything that wandered by. They needed to reach a safe zone.
"The nearest Vanguard compound is twelve miles north," Lucas said, studying a map by flashlight. "Old National Guard armoury. If it's still standing, it'll have walls, weapons, and maybe working vehicles."
"Twelve miles?" Jenna asked. "Through that?"
She gestured toward the window. The streets below were quieter now—not safe, but less chaotic.
Bodies lay where they'd fallen, some human, some not.
Strange plants grew from cracks in the pavement, luminescent and twisting, reaching toward the still-fractured sky.
In the distance, something massive moved between buildings, its footsteps causing vibrations they could feel through the floor.
"We move fast, stay quiet, avoid main roads," Lucas said. "Olivia and I have weapons. Jenna, you stay between us. If anything happens, you run. Don't look back."
"What about Mr. Whiskers?"
"Mr. Whiskers is surprisingly quiet for a cat. He comes too."
They left at dawn, when the pale light made the alien landscape slightly less terrifying.
Lucas led them through back alleys and service corridors, avoiding the streets where creatures still hunted.
Olivia carried her gladius in one hand and a loaded pistol Lucas had given her in the other.
She'd fired a gun twice in her life, both times at a range.
The weight of it felt foreign and wrong.
"You won't need it," Lucas had said. "The sword is your weapon. The gun is backup."
"What if I need to shoot something?"
"Aim for the centre of mass. Don't hesitate. And save your ammunition—we don't have much."
They'd gone three miles when they encountered the first survivors.
A family—mother, father, two children—huddled in a burned-out convenience store. The father had a shotgun. The mother had a baseball bat wrapped in barbed wire. The children had backpacks and haunted eyes.
"We're going north," Lucas told them quietly. "Armoury. Safe zone."
"We tried," the father said. His name was David, Olivia learned. "Roads are blocked. Something big in the park. We lost our car."
"Travel with us," Olivia said before Lucas could respond. "More eyes, more weapons."
Lucas shot her a look but didn't argue.
The group grew as they travelled. A nurse named Aisha, fleeing a hospital that had become a slaughterhouse. Two teenagers, Marcus and Leo, who'd survived by hiding in a sewer. An old man called The Professor who claimed he'd predicted the Veil's collapse in a paper nobody had read.
By mile eight, they were twelve people strong, moving like a ragged caravan through the ruins of civilization.
Olivia found herself at the rear, guarding their flank.
It was a position suited to her—quiet, watchful, ready to respond.
She practiced moving with her sword, finding its balance, adjusting her grip.
It wasn't so different from the wooden blades Lucas had taught her, just heavier, deadlier, more serious.
"You're good with that."
She turned. Marcus, one of the teenagers, had dropped back to walk beside her. He was tall and skinny, all elbows and anxiety, with dark skin and a fade haircut growing out unevenly.
"I'm learning," Olivia said.
"You move like my sister. She did capoeira. All that spinning and bending."
"Where is she?"
Marcus's jaw tightened. "Gone. First day. Something came through our window."
Olivia's heart twisted. "I'm sorry."
"Me too." He paused. "You remind me of her. Not looking like her—you're way shorter. But the way you don't give up. She was like that."
"Then I'll keep not giving up. For both of us."
Marcus smiled, small and sad. "Thanks."
They reached the armoury at dusk, and Olivia's heart sank.
The walls were intact, but the gates were closed. Vanguard soldiers patrolled the parapets, rifles raised, spotlights sweeping the approach. A sign hung from the main gate: NO ENTRY. QUARANTINE IN EFFECT.
"Quarantine?" Jenna asked. "For what?"
"Probably checking for infection," Lucas said. "Some creatures carry parasites. Some people come back... wrong."
They approached cautiously, hands visible, weapons sheathed. A soldier with a captain's bars called down from the wall.
"State your business!"
"Survivors seeking sanctuary," Lucas called back. "I'm awakened. Former military liaison."
The captain's eyes narrowed. "Awakened? Prove it."
Lucas picked up a rock and threw it straight up—far higher than any normal human could, a clean arc that peaked thirty feet above the wall before falling back down. He caught it one-handed.
The captain conferred with someone out of sight. Then: "Gate opens in sixty seconds. Single file. Weapons stay sheathed. Anyone acts aggressive, we shoot. Welcome to Vanguard Compound Seven."
The gate groaned open.
Olivia let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding. They were safe. Or safer, at least. They had walls, soldiers, organization.
She should have known it wouldn't be that simple.