𝕯𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖘𝖍𝖔𝖙

Hear No Evil

THE NEXT DAY

The base was quiet—unnaturally quiet. The kind of silence that pressed down on you, making every little sound feel amplified, every breath louder. Nathan worked on reinforcing a barricade in the garage, but his mind wasn't on the task. The metallic clang of tools felt distant, a sound that belonged to another world, a world before the blood moon, before everything had gone wrong.

Beside him, Kaylin was sharpening her blade, her quick, precise dragging filling the heavy stillness. The soft scraping noise felt like the only thing tethering them to reality, the one consistent rhythm in a world that no longer made sense.

"Do you hear that?" Nathan asked suddenly, breaking the silence. He paused, his heart beating faster. There was something faint, something that didn't belong in the night.

Kaylin stopped, her eyes narrowing as she strained to hear. For a moment, there was nothing but the rustling wind outside, the faint creak of wood settling in the cold air. And then, it came again—an engine, distant but unmistakable, rumbling closer with each passing second.

"Yeah," she said, standing slowly, her hand drifting toward her gun. "That's definitely a motorcycle. But who could it be?"

Nathan felt a knot of unease twist in his gut. The base was supposed to be hidden, far off the radar. No one was supposed to know where they were. His pulse quickened as the engine's hum grew louder, cutting through the quiet air like an unwelcome visitor.

"I don't like this," Nathan muttered, glancing toward the garage door. "We should be ready for anything."

As they moved toward the door, the others — Emma, Julian, and Lorenzo — appeared from the back of the garage, weapons already in hand. The tension was thick, an unspoken understanding hanging between them.

The engine stopped abruptly, and the silence that followed was deafening. Then came the sound of footsteps. Slow, deliberate. Whoever was outside didn't seem to care about being stealthy—they wanted to be heard.

"Who could it be?" Lorenzo whispered, his eyes flicking to Nathan, a question hanging in the air. Nathan's mind raced. There were only a few people it could be, but none of them should be here.

The door creaked open, and there he was — Caleb. His hair was longer, his face more gaunt, weathered by the world outside, but it was unmistakably him. He stood in the doorway, his shoulders slightly hunched, the weariness of the journey etched into every line of his body.

But his eyes were calm, steady. The kind of calm Nathan remembered from years ago, before everything had changed. "Nathan. Lorenzo," Caleb said, his voice steady, almost serene, despite the circumstances. Nathan's jaw dropped, a flood of memories hitting him like a wave. "Caleb?"

Lorenzo's face lit up with a mixture of shock and disbelief. "What... what are you doing here, man? How did you...?" Caleb stepped into the garage, offering them a weary smile. "I made it. Barely, but I'm here. I wasn't going to let this thing take me down. Not yet. I praise the Lord for that."

Nathan could hear the exhaustion in Caleb's voice, but there was something else beneath it—a quiet strength, a calm resolve. Caleb had always been like that, even when they were kids back in Queens. Grounded, unshakable. Even now, after everything, he carried himself with that same quiet confidence.

"You... you survived?" Nathan asked, still stunned. He had thought Caleb was in Georgia, far away from their reach.

"I was," Caleb nodded, his expression softening with memory. "But I came back here with my dad, and my mom came as well. When the blood moon hit, though, they didn't make it. I couldn't stay at that house. So I came back, hoping to find someone—anyone. And here you are."

Lorenzo stepped forward, clasping Caleb's arm in a tight grip. "It's good to see you, man. I didn't think we'd ever see you again."

*OUTSIDE*