Chapter 2

TWO

The desolate wasteland stretched before Chris and his unit, a barren expanse of cracked earth and gnarled remnants of a world long gone. A cool wind whispered through the lifeless husks of what were once towering skyscrapers, carrying the faint scent of rot and decay.

The air was thick with dust and ashes, making it hard to breathe. The once-vibrant city of San Francisco was now a desolate wasteland, covered in rubble and decay. Broken buildings loomed over them like ghostly specters, their windows staring down like empty sockets. The only movement came from the occasional creature that scurried away from their approach.

Chris led the way, his muscular form cutting through the muck and ruins with ease. His short black hair was slicked back, revealing the prominent scar on his cheek that marked him as a survivor of this hellish world. He looked back at his men—Liam, William, Bash, and Alex. All tough and strong in their own ways but equally vulnerable to the dangers that lurked around every corner.

Liam, his second, followed closely behind, his messy brown hair falling into his eyes just behind his glasses as he scanned the area for threats. His bright blue eyes held an air of optimism that calmed those around him, despite the dire circumstances they found themselves in. Liam carried a bag filled with supplies they were supposed to deliver to the survivors they were heading toward and couldn't take the lead should someone attack.

Bash walked beside Liam, his rugged features set with determination to keep everyone safe no matter what the cost. His buzz cut reflected the sunlight off his thick beard and piercing green eyes that saw too much death already narrowed with annoyance that only he knew about. Chris watched as Bash glanced warily at a group of young, hungry people huddled near an abandoned storefront before continuing without breaking stride.

Alex stood behind the duo, his eyes searching the distance the same way Chris's did. He was younger, but the man hadn't accidentally found his way to the military. His father had trained Chris, and when the time came to take Alex to a unit, Chris hadn't hesitated to ask for him. He was impulsive as hell and the first idiot to run into a burning building, but Chris would never complain. He'd been a paramedic for a few years and saved their asses with stitches and splints a time or two.

William brought up the rear, young but always determined not to show any sign of weakness or fear despite having lost his family to the toxin that ravaged society. His blond hair was styled messily under the military cap adorned with pins representing various achievements. He was the baby of the group, the age as Chris was when he joined the forces almost seven years ago.

Glancing away from his men, Chris returned his gaze back to the area. The military didn't take on just any. He wasn't even certain what the fuck they were about to do, but orders had come in over the radio, and they'd stepped in to take it. Stepping in meant closer shots to escorting women to safety—which meant one step closer to safety for his unit .

He exhaled a cloud of vapor that dissipated quickly in the frigid air. Everything could go wrong in the single blink of an eye. In this dystopian hell, there was no room for error.

"Listen up, men," Chris barked, "this is a recon mission, nothing more. We go in, we gather intel, and we get out. Understood?"

A chorus of muted ‘yes, sirs' filled the crisp air as his unit of hardened soldiers, the last remaining within a hundred-mile radius, fell into formation. They were a motley crew, each with their own unique set of skills that had allowed them to survive this long. As the procession moved single file through the crumbling cityscape, Chris's eyes flicked from one burly figure to another, mentally tallying their value. Every man was expendable... except one.

Liam's muscular frame was hidden under a dirt-stained fatigue jacket, and rectangular glasses perched on his strong nose. He peered at a tattered map, his bright blue eyes darting left to right as he plotted their course. The men teased him sometimes, calling him the ‘Cartographer' for his uncanny ability to navigate even the most twisted of roads. He'd grown up with digital maps and somehow still knew how to read the ones they had available in this hell.

Their boots crunched on broken glass and rubble as they slowly made their way down the street. Abandoned cars littered the road, doors hanging open like the jagged teeth of a beast long dead. The stench of rot and death hung in the air like an oppressive fog; every step felt heavier than it should have been due to it. Chris's nostrils flared in disgust—this had once been a lively city center now reduced to decaying husks of what it once was.

Liam paused at an intersection despite not being given a low whistle from Chris—the sign to pause. Chris turned and stopped, watching Liam study the map intensely before looking up at him with a nod .

"We're coming up on the target, Sir," Liam said in a low voice.

Chris leveled a cold stare at his unit. "Alright, men, we're here. Bash, you know the drill, keep that temper in check, you hear me? Alex, you're up."

Bash, the hulking Goliath of the group, hefted a bulky satchel and tapped a thick finger on his wired headgear. Chris nodded, and the muscular man lumbered off with Alex toward the dilapidated building that had once been a thriving research facility, per the briefing notes.

As they crouched in the shadows, Chris knew Alex skillfully dismantled the security system. Each beep of his progress amazed Chris because the man was more brawn than brain to look at, but that wasn't the truth. Alex was brilliant. The screech of metal on metal signaled their entry point, and they silently filed inside, Bash stepping in last, bringing up the rear with the largest gun the unit had.

The cool air inside the building was a welcome change from the stifling heat outside, but the stench...Chris wrinkled his nose in disgust as he took deep breaths through his mouth. Dead rats, mold, and rotting food filled his nostrils, making him want to gag. They moved slowly and quietly, their boots crunching on broken glass and other debris that littered the floor. Their footsteps echoed ominously off of the empty hallways.

Chris paused at the second doorway, taking in the sight before him. This place had once been a hub of scientific advancement, a beacon of hope for humanity. Now it was a graveyard of broken glass and rusting metal, dusty desks and abandoned experiments—another casualty of the toxin that ravaged society. A shiver ran down his spine as he thought of how close he'd come to being here himself.

When the toxin released, Chris had been at ground zero … less than sixteen miles from this damn building, and had gotten in jured, but otherwise fared far better than most close to the accidental detonation.

"Look only. Don't touch unless you have to. Rumors of people coming and going reached D.C. We're just making certain no one is squatting in a government building." Chris made the ‘come hither' gesture with his hand, pulling his men closer. "Watch each other's six. Take no chances."

William stepped up, as he'd been trained to do, because he was the lightest on his feet, making him the most likely to dodge an attack. He led the way with his head down, scanning the floor for any hint of a scavenge. He was the first to notice a floorboard that seemed loose. He nudged it with his boot, and, sure enough, it gave way with a soft, groaning creak. Underneath laid a hidden cache of supplies—canned goods, water, and ammo that had been stashed away before the fall of the city.

"Chris, you gotta see this," William beckoned him forward, not realizing Chris had seen it all from over his shoulder.

The younger man had a knack for this sort of thing. William always found what they needed when they needed it most. Liam smiled as he lingered behind Chris's shoulder, if anyone could tell how proud they all were of William right now, it was him.

"Jackpot. Looks like people were here and left in a hurry. There's enough gear here to turn us invisible to those drones. Not to mention the food."

Chris's mood lightened at the second find that he hadn't seen. "Excellent. Scavenger's got us covered again." He rustled his hand through William's hair, knowing the younger man hated the gesture of being treated like a younger sibling, not to mention the nickname.

Alex's hazel eyes gleamed as he slung an arm around William's shoulders, giving him a playful thump on the back. "This is going to make an awesome set of play toys," he leaned down and picked up a pair of night vision goggles. "Someone's going to miss these." Alex shrugged. "Their loss."

Bash growled, adjusting the assault rifle slung over his shoulder. "We don't have time for this." He turned to Chris with anger radiating in his gaze. "You said look not touch. Looks an awful lot like Alex is fucking touching." The words were a raspy growl; the only warning they would have was that Bash was near his breaking point.

Chris turned on his heel, his dark eyes blazing. "We need every advantage we can get, Bash. You should know that." He'd known Bash since before the bombs, and every day Bash lost a little bit of himself to grief.

Alex rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed by Bash's outburst. "Relax, big guy. No one's gonna miss a few measly items."

"It's not about that," Bash retorted, his voice still tight with frustration. "It's about being careful and respecting what's left of this world."

William stepped up between them, sensing the tension rising. "Hey guys, let's just focus on getting what we need and getting out of here before anyone catches wind of us."

Chris took a deep breath and nodded in agreement. He knew Bash had a fierce sense of loyalty to their cause, and sometimes it clashed with Alex's more laid-back attitude. One more second and the big guy was going to throw hands, and at the end of the day, only Chris could really take him on. Plus, fighting inside a government building would only push them further from their shot at retiring to the safe haven.

"I'm going to say this one, you hear?" Chris got toe-to-toe with Bash, speaking the only language the other man understood when he got pissed. "We're fucking two missions from escorting a woman to the safe zone. Two fucking missions, you hear me?" Chris poked a finger against Bash's pec. "So , chill the fuck out because I, for one, want to retire."

Tension sparked through the air like bolts of electricity as Bash glared back at Chris. The two men were evenly matched in size and strength, but it was clear that Chris was the leader here. Bash's jaw clenched, no doubt as he fought with his inner demons. Demons Chris knew all about and didn't blame him for.

Bash grumbled but followed as they filled their packs with the loot.

"Fine," Bash grunted finally, stepping back and taking a deep breath. "I'll chill."

"Let's pack up the extras to ensure if someone does come back, we've got them pinched." A part of Chris hated knowing someone fought for these supplies and found safety here, but they didn't belong, and he was getting his unit out of dodge.

As they strapped on their loot, Liam's voice came across squeezed. "We've got company, Chris."

Chris swore, "Move out, double time!"

They sprinted through the maze of corridors, their newfound speed a miracle of science. Chris's heart raced as he stepped to the side and watched as his team of four ducked into a maintenance shaft just as the drone's cold gaze whizzed past. The walls pulsed with its energy signature, sending reverberations through their bones.

"You ready?" Chris asked Bash, knowing the moment of tension was long forgotten.

Bash readied the rifle, crouching to spring if needed.

Liam jerked a large black rectangle from his pack, his grin entirely unsettling. "Got it. EMP's ready to go, boss. Let's save the loud gunfire for another time."

Chris nodded, "Hold it ‘til my mark."

Chris peered through the grates, heart pounding. Lifting his right hand, he put up three fingers … two … one .

"Now!"

Liam pressed a button, and the drone froze in mid-air, its red eyes fading to a dull blue.

Chris didn't hesitate, leaping out with his team close behind. They swarmed the machine, ripping panels off, dismantling it piece by piece. Out of the corner of his eye he saw William's hands shaking as he disconnected a power cell.

Bash slammed the last panel out of place, "Move your asses!"

They sprinted away, their footsteps echoing off the empty halls. Someone had brought that fucking drone in or activated a government-issued one.

"That thing rigged to blow?" He glanced at the small detonator in Liam's hand, uncertain when his second dropped the damn bomb it attached to.

"You know it. Tiny blast—itty bitty. Not enough to take the building down."

"Enough to save our asses?" Alex hissed.

"No shit." Liam rolled his eyes as footsteps echoed through the compound.

"How big?"

"About to be a problem, boss. Company's headed our way. It's now or never."

Chris cursed, "We're not going to make it, do it, damn it!"

"Follow me!" Bash roared, sprinting ahead to literally take on people head on.

The floor beneath them began to shake.

The blast hit as they tumbled through the emergency exit, a wave of fire and debris on their heels. They rolled clear, coughing in the dust cloud.

Alex stood, arms raised, "Everyone alive?"

"Man down, boss!" Liam's voice shook.

Chris's heart dropped. "Who?"

"Bash, you bastard!" William spat, blood trickling from a gash on his temple .

Bash's eyes hardened, "He's right, fucking shrapnel in my leg. "

Chris clenched his fists, "Get back to the truck so we can take it out safely. We need to move and report back to Washington."

Bash leaned his weight on William and Alex as they shuffled away. Blowing up the few rooms in the building had not been allowed. Chris wasn't certain how the higher-ups would take this, but he had a hunch the safe haven was off the table.

As the car rolled through the irradiated waste land, William's mind replayed the mission's events, guilt gnawing at him. He should've been faster, should've seen the explosion taking the room apart faster. Chris glanced at him. Chris should be driving, but Liam took over so Chris could check on them, and William felt like shit about it.

"It's not your fault, William. These things happen . . . especially to someone as slow moving as Bash."

"Bullshit! I should've had his back!" William's outburst shocked even him.

Chris's voice hardened, "No, William, what happened wasn't your fault. We're at war, and casualties are part of the game. You know that. It's not like you got away scot-free. I see the blood on your forehead."

William's jaw clenched, "Yeah, I know."

Chris squeezed his shoulder, "I know it hurts to let each other get injured, but we can't afford to lose you to demons too, alright?"

William nodded, steeling himself. They continued in silence. He should have been more cautious and should have seen the danger. Chris had been trained to suck it up, to lead. But losing a brother-in-arms was never easy.

Chris squeezed William's shoulder, "It's on me, trust me. Or rather, it's on Liam, he's the knucklehead who detonated the small bomb."

William looked up, his blue eyes glinting with unshed tears. "I... I never thought it would be like this." He swallowed a listless lump. "I joined the military to make a difference, you know? To honor my family."

William didn't like to think about everything he'd lost. A mother and father and three siblings. All poisoned the instant the toxin cloud appeared. No one had any clue why those who died in the initial days were so affected, all William knew was he'd been free and alive years later when he'd lost everyone else.

The memories hit him hard, a wave of grief crashing over him. He remembered how he had been away at basic training when it happened, unable to do anything but wait for news from back home. By the time he was able to come back, it was too late.

William shook his head, trying to push away the pain and guilt that threatened to consume him. He couldn't afford to dwell on the past, not when there were still people depending on him for their survival.

Chris placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You're here, aren't you? Fighting for what's right? They'd be proud. They might not have gotten to see the man the toxin would force you to become, but trust me, you're one hell of a fighter, and I'm proud to call you my brother."

William watched as the base came into sight. It was nothing fancy, but it was a beacon in the hellish landscape. The concrete walls had been reinforced with scaffolding and guard towers to ensure no one came in that shouldn't.

They rolled in, driving the truck directly to their unit's barracks and piled out.

Liam punched the code into the wall panel, and during the pause, they all seemed to stretch stiff limbs before shuffling inside. Bash hobbled over to the sofa and dropped, blood caking on his pants. They exchanged knowing glances, but said nothing as they quietly looked around their bunker.

"Come on, then, big guy." Alex shook his head as he opened the cabinet and turned back around with gauze, a bottle of vodka, and the medic kit. "Some to drink and some to pour?"

"Shut the fuck up," Bash snarled and stretched his leg out. "William, you gonna help pull it out?"

William shook his head. "It's my fault you got hit, I darted in your path. If I touch it, who knows what'll go wrong." He hung his head, hating the way he'd put his teammate in harm's way.

"No worries, I've got it," Alex dropped down in front of Bash.

Alex's fingers were deft and sure as he cut through Bash's pants to reveal a deep gash in his leg, exposing the jagged metal that protruded from his flesh. Liam knelt beside Bash too, his blue eyes focused on helping preserve their safety. William watched on, knowing that one day he was going to need to learn how to pop some stitches in if Alex were ever injured.

"On the count of three."

"Just fucking pull it out," Bash sighed as Chris said nearly the same thing.

William watched as Alex clenched his teeth and gently grasped the metal with one hand before tugging it free with a sickening pop.

Blood spurted between Bash's fingers.

Alex snapped into action, pulling out his medical bag and swiftly sterilizing the wound.

To Bash's credit, the man said nothing, his eyes merely twitching from the pain.

As Alex worked quickly but carefully on Bash's leg, Liam whispered encouraging words to ease his pain while William kept an eye on Chris.

"All I ask is you don't fucking punch me," Alex looked to William and Liam, who took a spot on Bash's side. "They're going to hold your arms for safety."

William set his hand on Bash's shoulder. He wasn't stupid enough to think he could really restrain the guy, but he'd help where he could.

Alex's hands moved with precision and expertise as she swiftly stitched up the wound on Bash's arm. He winced and gritted his teeth every now and then, his body tensing from the pain of the needle piercing his skin. The sharp smell of antiseptic filled the air, mingling with the metallic scent of blood. Each stitch pulled the torn flesh together, a delicate dance between healing and hurt.

"Well, boys," Chris said, standing stiffly when Alex leaned back and cut the thread, "time to meet our fates."

Alex clapped him on the back, grinning his trademark cocky grin. "Just another day in the apocalypse, right?"

Chris managed a weak smile. "Right," he said, chambering a round into his pistol. "Just another damn day."