Downtown Seattle
October 17, 3:32 p.m.
The streets were unrecognizable.
What used to be the hum of traffic was now a haunting chorus of screams, gunfire, and the endless groan of the infected. Cars were abandoned mid-turn, doors hanging open, alarms still wailing. The air reeked of smoke and rot.
Christoph led the group through the wreckage, weaving between the burned-out vehicles. Every few steps, he checked corners, scanning for movement.
Elara followed close behind, her camera gone, replaced by a scavenged handgun from a fallen soldier. She held it with both hands, trembling slightly but keeping her aim steady.
Marcus walked last, gripping the modified nail gun. "We're heading in circles," he muttered. "The harbor's cut off. You saw the barricades."
Christoph shook his head. "There's a service tunnel that runs under the main road. If it's still open, we can get through."
Elara looked at him, eyes narrowed. "You sound like you know this city better than you should."
He didn't answer. Instead, he pointed toward a collapsed pharmacy ahead. "We'll rest there. Check for supplies."
Inside, the pharmacy was a ruin of shattered shelves and blood-smeared walls. The faint hum of the backup lights flickered above them.
Christoph searched the aisles quickly, grabbing medical kits, bottled water, and anything they could use. Elara found a half-empty backpack and filled it with painkillers and antiseptics.
Marcus leaned against the counter, breathing heavily. "How long do you think we can keep running like this?"
"As long as we have to," Christoph said.
Marcus scoffed. "Easy for you to say. You don't even look scared."
Christoph paused, meeting his eyes. "I am. I just don't have time to show it."
A sound interrupted them faint footsteps, slow and deliberate.
Elara froze. "That's not one of them. Too quiet."
Christoph raised his hand for silence. The door at the back creaked open, and a voice called out.
"Don't shoot! Please!"
A woman stepped into view, wearing a medic's uniform, her face streaked with dirt. She carried a small child wrapped in a blanket.
Marcus lowered his weapon. "Holy hell… someone's still alive."
The woman's voice trembled. "We've been hiding in the clinic downstairs. Please, they're everywhere. You have to help us."
Elara moved closer. "How many?"
"Just me and him." She looked down at the child, whose eyes fluttered weakly. "He's hurt. Bitten."
Christoph's heart sank. "When?"
"Two hours ago."
Elara looked between them, voice breaking. "We can't just leave them."
Christoph closed his eyes. He already knew what came next.
The boy began to twitch.
"Get back," Christoph said quietly.
The medic shook her head. "No, please, he's just"
The boy convulsed and let out a guttural shriek. His small body twisted as veins blackened beneath his skin.
Before the others could react, Christoph stepped forward and swung the pipe in his hand. The room fell silent except for the medic's sobs.
Elara turned away, tears burning her eyes. "You didn't even hesitate."
Christoph's voice was steady but heavy. "If I had, we'd all be dead."
The medic sank to her knees, shaking uncontrollably.
Marcus placed a hand on her shoulder. "Come with us. We're heading to the harbor."
She looked up, eyes hollow. "There's no safe place left. The hospitals are gone. The CDC compound downtown was overrun this morning. I saw it burn."
Christoph's expression darkened. "The CDC compound? That's where they were developing the antidote."
Elara turned sharply. "You knew about that?"
He hesitated. "I heard rumors. Before all this started."
The medic stared at him. "You're not just a student, are you?"
Christoph didn't respond.
Outside, the sound of engines broke the silence. Trucks military.
Marcus moved to the window. "Looks like an evacuation team."
Elara joined him, peering through the glass. Soldiers were herding survivors toward armored transports at the intersection. Relief flooded her face. "We made it."
Christoph didn't move. Something in his gut told him it wasn't right.
Then he saw it one of the soldiers shoving a screaming man to the ground. A shot rang out. The man went still. The others followed, dragged away and loaded onto separate trucks.
It wasn't an evacuation. It was containment.
Elara's smile vanished. "They're killing the infected."
"Not just the infected," Christoph said. "Anyone who might be."
Marcus cursed. "So what now?"
Christoph tightened his grip on the pipe. "We stay off the streets. Head through the tunnel. It's our only shot."
The medic nodded, clutching her empty arms as if the child were still there. "I'll show you the way. I know where the access door is."
4:07 p.m.
They moved through the alleyways, avoiding the patrols. Smoke curled between the buildings, and the sky burned orange with the setting sun.
When they reached the edge of the city square, they saw the tunnel entrance a rusted gate beneath the overpass. A military barricade stood nearby, half-abandoned.
Elara crouched low. "Do you think it's clear?"
"No," Christoph said. "But it's open."
They slipped through the debris and descended the concrete steps. The deeper they went, the darker it became. Water dripped from the ceiling. Rats scurried past their feet.
At the bottom of the tunnel, the medic stopped. "It's through there," she whispered, pointing toward a maintenance door.
Marcus opened it carefully, revealing a long corridor lit by flickering fluorescent bulbs. The sound of wind echoed from the far end.
Elara sighed with relief. "Finally, a way out."
But as they stepped inside, Christoph noticed the walls. Blood. Handprints.
And a message, scrawled in red paint:
"THEY LIED. IT STARTED HERE."
Elara's voice trembled. "What does that mean?"
Christoph stared at the words, cold realization sinking into his chest.
The outbreak didn't come from outside the city.
It was born right beneath it.
4:29 p.m.
They moved deeper into the tunnel, the flickering lights above casting long, shifting shadows. The medic stayed close, her breathing uneven.
Elara whispered, "If this started here, does that mean the CDC was experimenting under the city?"
Christoph nodded slowly. "They were testing containment strains. Viral prototypes. If one broke loose…"
Marcus muttered, "Then we were doomed before it even began."
Ahead, the tunnel split into two paths. One led toward the harbor. The other descended into darkness.
Christoph looked at the sign above the second passage: RESEARCH ACCESS AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY.
Elara noticed his expression. "You're not seriously thinking of going down there."
He looked back at her. "If there's a cure, it's not in the harbor. It's down here."
Marcus shook his head. "That's suicide."
"Maybe. But if this virus came from here, then someone left something behind."
Elara hesitated, torn between fear and conviction. "If we go with you, we might not make it out."
Christoph gave a faint, tired smile. "If we don't, no one will."
The medic looked at the dark passage and whispered, "I'll go with you. I need to know what they did."
Elara met Christoph's eyes and nodded. "Then we go together."
Marcus groaned. "You people are insane."
He sighed, raising the nail gun. "Fine. Lead the way."
The four of them stepped into the darkness, leaving the faint light of the surface behind.
And as the door closed behind them, the echo of the city faded away replaced by the hum of unseen machines buried deep below the earth.