With a short sigh, Rani heads over to the radio.

  Unsure what else to do with themself, Sira decides to go to the closest open space of wall and take a seat on the floor. A relieved exhale escapes them, muffled by the mask, as they rest their back against the wall and hug their knees to their chest.

  The awareness of how worn out and in pain they are starts to return. Their body burns much like it did when they first awoke, but rather than their muscles refusing to work properly, they’re just hurting. It’s all they can do to avoid groaning aloud. It’s a wonder they made it this far. They give credit to the adrenaline. And mind-numbing terror.

  Sira lifts their head to observe their new companions. Therese steps out of the way as Rani bends forward to hold down a button on the microphone.

  “Eta-12 Heron here,” she says.

  “You can drop the radio protocol, Rani. I’m too worn out to care right now,” a gravelly voice on the other end says, overlayed by radio static. “What is it that you need?”

  “Transport to the operating base, sir. We have a…problem.”

  “What kind of ‘problem’ can’t you resolve by yourselves?”

  Sira would think the words were chastising if the man’s tone of voice wasn’t so light, but Rani looks far from relaxed.

  “You would have to come and see for yourself. I don’t think it should be discussed in detail over comms.”

  The man on the other end, the ‘captain,’ is quiet for a long moment. Then, he lets out a long, reluctant breath. “Fine. This better be as big of a deal as you’re making it out to be, though. Is it something that requires backup?”

  “No. I think it’d be best if you brought as few people with you as possible. Trusted people.”

  “…interesting. I’ll get you that transport. ETA fifteen minutes, over and out.”

  Rani releases the button on the microphone, visibly relieved. She looks over to Sira. “Still doing alright?”

  “Yeah, but I almost feel like I’m…in trouble or something.” Jeez, I sound pathetic. Something tells Sira that they’re going to continue to feel pathetic for a while yet. At least until this situation blows over.

  If it ever does.

  “Oh no, you haven’t done anything wrong, I can promise you that,” Rani says with a soft chuckle. She spares a glance at Therese, who is hovering behind her, but staring warily at Sira. “This is just a special case. Like we said before, immunity to the virus was thought to be impossible.”

  Sira tilts their head. “Virus?”

  “That’s what’s in the fog, mist, whatever form it takes,” Lionel interjects, "a disease that turns people into phantoms. The more you inhale, the faster it happens. And against all odds, you seem to be fine.”

  Sira shrinks in on themselves a bit more. "I can’t really be the only one, can I?”

  “That we know of,” Rani answers, leaning back against the edge of the table. “The CPC isn’t small. It’s unlikely there’s anyone else that we haven’t found. If there are others, they have to be beyond our reach.”

  Sira fixates on the grooves of the aged wooden floor. The way Rani says it is like she’s purposefully trying not to make it out to be a big deal, but her word choice still carries the implication that it is.

  The weight of it sounds like too much. Far too much. Everything about this is so messed up that part of them is tempted to burst into bitter laughter as a way of releasing everything they’ve been feeling for the past few hours. That wouldn’t make the best impression. Instead, the pain in their head gets worse and they squeeze their eyes shut against it.

  “…so, who are you?” Therese asks, finally adding to the conversation. Sira opens their eyes again as she steps out from behind the cover of Rani’s broad shoulders. “Where did you come from? A settlement?”

  Right. She wasn’t here for the earlier conversation.

  “Sira. But I don’t remember much else, and…” They think of the chamber, the not-vines, the choking atmosphere, and the casket. “…the rest is hard to describe."

  Before Therese can say anything else, Rani places a hand on her shoulder.

  “Hey, I think we should let that be for now,” she says quietly, though Sira can still hear it. “They’ve been through a lot and they’re going to have a lot ahead of them. Just keep an eye on your tracker for when Karim shows up, okay?”

  Therese pauses, then nods slowly, and makes her way to a table where one of the devices is set up for active use: it resembles a laptop but with a much more ‘heavy-duty’ exterior. She quietly sits down at the chair in front of it and taps a few keys on its keyboard.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  “I would offer you food or water, but we don’t have any here. This place isn’t home-y,” Rani tells them. “Just try to make yourself as comfortable as possible while we wait. You look like you need the rest.”

  The space looks far from restful. The only options are standing, sitting in one of the few metal chairs in the room like Lionel is, or sitting on the floor. The chairs lack any cushioning and show clear signs of wear and tear. They can’t be any more comfortable than where Sira is now. A place to lie down would be ideal, but they’re not desperate enough to curl up on hard flooring and risk aggravating any injuries.

  “So we’re just handing them over,” Mikael says. He hasn’t moved from the door.

  It makes Sira flinch, even though the statement isn’t directed at them. He’s hardly spoken, and the deep base of his voice adds to everything else that makes him intimidating.

  “Karim will know what to do,” Rani replies. “If anyone will know, it’s him.”

  “Hm.”

  Rani stands beside Therese, sitting slightly back against the surface of the table and folding her arms over her chest. Sira can’t judge her facial expression behind the helmet. “Is there a problem?”

  “No,” he answers. “Just forget it.”

  Again, being talked about like they aren’t here, and so much of it is vague, but Sira doesn’t feel the need to cut in this time. The weariness is setting in again and words are getting hard. They turn their head a little in Mikael’s direction, but now his attention is on the window on the other side of the room. He’s staring off into space more than anything else.

  Lionel, however, catches Sira’s attention with a soft snort. He turns his chair around so that his chest is to the back of it. “Don’t mind him. He just has a stick up his ass that won’t come out.”

  Sira tenses. Mikael doesn’t say anything in response, but there’s a soft creak from where the door to the room is. They don’t turn to see his reaction.

  “Don’t start,” Rani snaps, and just like that, the room goes silent.

  A tense silence.

  The vagueness, not knowing anything, is part of what’s making them anxious. A dozen questions bounce around in their mind, intermingled with thoughts about hunger and thirst as those feelings press into them past the pain. *Who is the captain? What is going to happen to me?

  How much of humanity is even left at this point?*

  Rani said Sira hasn’t done anything wrong, but there’s still a firm knot of trepidation in their gut. It doesn’t help that the people surrounding them carry weapons and are decked out in armored suits that mask most of their status as living, breathing, normal humans.

  …and so long as they don’t remember anything, so long as they need to physically recover from whatever happened to make them this way, they’re at everyone else’s mercy. Helplessness. Dependence. Anyone could take advantage of that if they wanted.

  Piecing that together makes their jaw clench.

  Mental fatigue weighs them down and makes it hard to dig through the questions in their head and pick out the words they need, but Sira pushes past it: “So, are you guys…soldiers?”

  “In a sense,” Rani says, her posture softening. “That’s not something I can be open about.”

  Maybe not military, then. “Why not?”

  “We’ve gotta keep some secrets,” Lionel answers in place of Rani.

  Rani side-eyes him. “Only out of necessity.”

  “Sure.” The way he talks makes it sound like he’s grinning beneath the cover of his helmet. “That’s what they all say.”

  It’s a dig. Now that Sira thinks about it, he’s had the same sarcastic tone ever since Sira first met him, not including when he came up to them to see if they were infected. No one reacts like they’re just jokes, but he either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care.

  Again, the room gets quiet. It slips Sira back into their thoughts, and the phantoms are what come up next. The one that Sira saw in the alley, standing eerily still. The first moment they saw the one in the woods, which had also been eerily still at first. The chase itself is a blur, but the all-consuming sense of doom Sira felt during it remains fresh in their mind.

  Along with that final moment where Sira was convinced they were done for. A memory that is going to haunt them for a long time. The added pain when they tripped and fell into the store shelving. The way it stalked towards them. Its hands reaching out, fingers distorted.

  I can’t believe something like that used to be human.

  “What would’ve happened if you guys didn’t come?”

  Lionel rests the chin of his respirator on his folded hands. “Ooh, that’s a good question. As far as we’ve seen, the only thing phantoms do is spread their condition. If you’re truly immune…”

  “Are they like…zombies?”

  Okay, that sounded less stupid in my head.

  “Believe it or not, it’s worse.” Rani cuts in, sounding grim. “I want to say it probably wouldn’t have turned out well for you, immunity or no. And it doesn’t matter, because we got there in time. Sira, I understand that you must be feeling overwhelmed and confused right now, but I meant it when I said you should rest.”

  Sira sighs, relaxing their shoulders. She’s right. The answers aren’t helping much. It’s too much information to process at once. That would have to come when they can think more clearly. They’ve only figured out two things for certain.

  One: the world, or this place, is dangerous. Afflicted. Ruined.

  Two: they’re an anomaly. Something thought to be impossible.

  “Underground,” they blurt out.

  All the heads in the room snap in their direction – at least, the three that Sira can see, but Mikael must also be looking at them now.

  Rani tilts her head, a jerky movement. “What?”

  “Therese asked me where I came from. It was underground,” Sira clarifies. Then, a slow, unsteady intake of breath. “A chamber is the best way I can describe it.”

  “Was there anything inside this ‘chamber’? Where is it?” Rani asks.

  “I kinda lost track of where I was going when I was running from the phantoms, but it was in a forest.” Sira shifts uncomfortably with everyone’s eyes being on them again. “And…not a lot? I felt really, really ill when I was down there, so it’s all kind of blurry.”

  “But you don’t remember anything before that point.”

  Sira nods. The others exchange glances.

  “I think…” Rani runs her hand down the back of her helmet, sighing. “I think we’ll leave that one up to the captain to figure out. That’s not actionable information right now. Until then, Sira, don’t worry about it too much, alright?’

  Part of them hoped one of them would know something. Apparently not. Not worrying about it seems like a futile task, but they don’t say anything more.

  They rest their head back against the wall and close their eyes. No one says anything else and there’s only the tapping of Therese’s fingers against her keyboard, a sound they don’t mind.