No one slept after that.
They stayed where they were, sitting in the dark clinic, listening to the world breathe outside. The infected drifted away slowly, their sounds fading into the night. When silence finally settled, it didn't feel safe—just empty.
Phileo sat back against the wall, knees pulled close. His head still hurt, but less than before. The strange pressure was gone, like something had stepped back and was watching from a distance.
Mara was the first to speak. "You did what you said you'd do."
Phileo nodded. "I didn't plan it. I just… knew."
Ben didn't look convinced. He cleaned his weapon slowly, eyes fixed on his hands. "That makes it worse."
"I know," Phileo said. "It scares me too."
Jax shifted uncomfortably. "You could've left. You didn't."
Phileo looked at him. "I'm tired of running alone."
The words surprised even him.
Morning came in thin lines of light through the boarded windows. The world outside looked gray and tired, like it hadn't rested either. Smoke still hung in the air, and the distant city groaned with broken sounds.
They moved out carefully.
Traveling together felt different. Slower. Heavier. Every decision was shared, argued, questioned. Phileo stayed in front, but now it felt less like a punishment and more like a role no one else wanted.
They passed through quiet streets and empty homes. Once, they found a body that hadn't turned. Mara closed its eyes. No one said a word.
By noon, they reached a small gas station. The pumps were dry, but the building still had supplies. They searched quickly.
Phileo stood watch outside.
Two infected wandered near the road. One turned its head toward him, paused, then kept walking.
Ben saw it happen.
Later, as they rested, Ben finally spoke. "You're changing."
Phileo swallowed. "I don't feel different."
"That's the problem," Ben replied.
Mara cut in. "Enough. He's keeping us alive."
Ben met her eyes. "For now."
They moved again as the sun dipped low.
Phileo felt the weight of it then—not just survival, but responsibility. Every step he took, every sound he made, affected the people behind him.
That night, as they found shelter in an empty warehouse, Phileo lay awake staring at the ceiling.
For the first time since everything ended, he wasn't alone.
And that scared him more than being hunted ever had.