We finally settled far from the highway, where the forest swallowed every sound. Harry's bag clinked with emergency tools and supplies as he set it down, methodical as always.
"Doc Harry… are the zombies evolving every day, or does it take longer?" I asked, my voice low, almost afraid of the answer.
His eyes flicked toward the treeline before returning to me. "It's still unclear," he replied. "Some turn fast. Others take days or even weeks. We can't assume anything."
I nodded, my fingers brushing the rough bark of the tree we'd chosen. "I have a hammock. We can set it up here. Higher is safer."
Harry studied the towering tree, about twenty feet high, then began to climb with a practiced grace. His back flexed under his shirt, muscles shifting like coiled rope. I hated myself for noticing, but my eyes lingered anyway. What's wrong with me? The hunger twisting in my stomach wasn't just for food.
He secured the hammock across two thick branches. "It's strong enough for both of us," he called down.
When I climbed up after him, the evening air wrapped around us like a damp blanket. He handed me a can of tuna. "This should still be good for another two years. Eat slowly. We'll need our strength."
I glanced at his face in the fading light. Sweat clung to his hairline, making his dark hair curl slightly. His blue-green eyes caught the light and held it, calm but unreadable. "Harry…" I hesitated, my fingers tightening around the can. "Are you… are you single?"
A faint smile touched his lips. "I've been too busy with my work to think about that."
We ate in silence, the hammock swaying gently. My pulse beat faster than it should. Our legs brushed. I could smell the salt of his sweat. When our eyes met again, something in my chest snapped.
"Harry…"
"Rhe?"
I leaned closer. He didn't move away. Our lips met, tentative at first, then deeper. His hand slid to my back, pulling me closer. His tongue brushed mine and a low sound escaped my throat before I could stop it.
The hammock creaked under us, but held. Heat spread between our bodies, overwhelming the chill of the night. His breath hitched as my fingers slipped beneath his waistband. He groaned softly, the sound vibrating against my lips.
"R-Rhe…" he whispered.
I froze, reality slamming back. What am I doing? My body felt like it was on fire. Ever since waking from the coma, that strange heat in my stomach had grown stronger every day. "I don't know what's happening to me," I murmured, pressing my forehead to his chest.
His arms tightened around me. "It's the virus. It's changing people in ways we don't fully understand."
I closed my eyes, exhausted, and drifted off against him.
---
Harry's POV
Rhe's breathing evened out as she slept, her head resting on my arm. Moonlight filtered through the leaves, casting silver across her face. Long lashes, a straight nose, lips parted slightly — she looked fragile, nothing like the woman who had survived hell to get here.
Shame pricked at me as I replayed what had just happened. Since the outbreak began, the temperature had been climbing, the air thick with heat and strange new scents. Everything was changing — the infected, the climate, even us. I had no idea how much worse it could get.
I forced myself to stay awake, scanning the shadows. When the faint wail of an alarm echoed miles away, I carefully shifted her off my arm and climbed down. We had to move.
By the time she woke, I was already packing our supplies and wiping away our tracks. She helped without a word, tension in her movements.
Then came the sound of an engine. We froze. A black SUV rolled to a stop just ten meters away.
"Down," I whispered, pulling her behind the trunk of a massive tree.
Five men got out, all muscular, all armed. Each had a skull tattoo burned into the back of his right hand. They swept their eyes across the area like predators.
"Boss," one of them said, "I think our little mice are close."
Rhe's fingers dug into my arm. I recognized the look of men who'd done worse things than kill.
Then something impossible happened. One of them raised his right hand, and flames bloomed from his palm. With a casual flick, he set dry leaves alight, turning the underbrush to ash.
"Run," I hissed.
We bolted. Shouts erupted behind us. "There they are!" the bald one roared. Fire streaked through the air toward us.
I didn't think. My own power surged, a crackling light racing to my palms. In the next instant, the forest vanished, replaced by the echoing darkness of a cavern.
The stench hit immediately — rot and something older, hungrier.
Rhe gagged, covering her nose. "God… what is that?"
"Stay close," I said, scanning the shadows. "This cave… it's not empty."
"You can teleport?" she whispered, disbelief in her eyes.
"I've been hiding it since the government started rounding up anyone 'special,'" I admitted, my voice low. "We're not safe here. Not from them, and not from what's in this cave."
Then, from the darkness ahead, came a low, guttural roar.