Success of the Broken Banner

Chapter 11: Polaroid

The chill of Echo's absence hit me like a slap as I jolted awake, alone. Sunlight slashed through the windows, making dust motes writhe like tiny demons. I lay there, trapped in the echo chamber of my mind, last night's memories playing on repeat like some cheesy romance flick. Echo's arms around me, his voice a low rumble of safety, his eyes...his eyes locked on me with that look. The one that makes my heart stumble.

God, how I yearned to stay in that illusion, to wake with his warmth still wrapped around me like armor. Just one tiny taste of the old normal, instead of this endless grind of wondering if each sunrise will be my last. But this new world, this meat grinder of fangs and firepower, doesn't deal in warm fuzzies. It only dishes out pain and a side of betrayal.

Yet, I still had Echo.

Even if our moments of pretend-normalcy are nothing more than sparks in the dark, I'll cling to them. They're all that keep me human in this monster-infested hellhole.

Silence. That's all I needed. No creaks. No groans. Just the stillness of my bedroom, the only sound the rustle of the bed sheets as I sat up. My bare feet hung over the floor, my heart pounding against my ribs. I had no reason to be stealthy, but some primal part of me urged caution. The floorboards chilled my soles as I padded to the door, pressing my ear against the cool wood. The house was quiet. Then, a murmur. Kilo. Echo. Their voices were a low hum from the kitchen, barely audible. My stomach twisted. Something was wrong.

I moved down the hall on silent feet, my pulse roaring in my ears. The staircase curved down into darkness, their voices growing louder with each step. I clung to the banister, my palms slick. At the top of the stairs, I froze.

"...don't tell her." Kilo's voice. Low. Urgent. Echo's protest cut off abruptly, the sound of rustling paper making me flinch.

"If you want to keep her sane, if you want to stop the nightmares, you can't tell her." Kilo's words hung in the air. Heavy. "I regret telling her how long her torture lasted already. This...this could break her."

A pause. Then, Echo. Resigned. "Okay. But we deal with this, before she gets hurt again."

I lingered at the top of the stairs, eavesdropping until their hushed conversation fizzled out. My footsteps echoed through the stillness as I descended, no longer a silent observer. The kitchen scene that greeted me was jarringly different from the warmth of the previous night – Echo and Kilo were strategically reloading an arsenal spread across the table.

Echo's gaze flicked to mine, a brief, tight smile flashing across his face. "Morning," he muttered, his attention immediately snapping back to the weapon he held with an intensity that set my nerves humming.

My eyes scanned the table, taking in the organized chaos of guns that had previously been hidden away in the truck. "What's going on?" My question came out sharper than I intended, a reaction to the prickling sense of unease their secrecy was fostering. "Why are you getting all the guns out?"

Kilo's response was curt, his focus fixed on the rifle he was methodically checking. "Just making sure everything is ready. You can never be too prepared."

The atmosphere in the kitchen hummed with a tense energy that hadn't existed the night before. Then, there had been a sense of camaraderie as we shared stories in front of the crackling fire. Now, the air felt heavy with unspoken words and secrets, amplifying the ominous feeling settling in the pit of my stomach.

"Guys, what's going on?" I pressed, trying to keep my voice level. "You're starting to freak me out." But my words seemed to fall flat, my concern ignored as they continued their task with a single-minded focus that only heightened my growing fear.

I held my ground, arms crossed and eyes fixed on the two of them, refusing to back down until one of them cracked. Kilo finally looked up from the gun in his hands, meeting my glare with a hint of amusement.

"That intimidation tactic doesn't work on me, kid," he said, attention already back on his work. "I've spent my whole life being interrogated. Your stare doesn't impress me."

A scowl etched into my face as I sighed, shaking my head. Snagging a pistol from the table, I turned and walked away from their secrets and silence.

"Where do you think you're going?" Kilo called after me. I glanced back over my shoulder, my glare still firmly in place.

"Out. To get some fresh air. You know, until you two pull your heads out of your asses and decide to tell me what's going on."

With that, I pushed through the back door and let it slam shut behind me. Sinking onto the edge of the porch, I dropped my head into my hands. I hated the secrets, the silence, the feeling of being kept at arm's length by the very people who were supposed to be my team. If I hadn't overheard that conversation, I'd be oblivious to the sudden shift in their behavior, and a hell of a lot less pissed.

Lifting my head, I blew out a shaky breath and stared out into the yard. A Lurker had managed to get itself tangled in the fence, the flickering shadow twisting and writhing as it tried to get at me. It locked eyes with me, a grotesque smile spreading across its face.

"Do you talk too?" I found myself asking, the absurdity of the situation not lost on me. "The last one that tried to kill me couldn't seem to shut up."

The Lurker nodded, a guttural growl rumbling in her throat. "The last one was weak if it couldn't handle you."

"Not weak," I countered, my mind flashing back to that first Lurker. The one Kilo and Echo had put down. I raised my gun in the air, the end of the gun shining in the sunlight. "Just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Like you."

She halted her struggle to scale the fence, her words a defiant challenge. "Go ahead. There will be more to take my place eventually."

A chill ran down my spine as I stalked closer, her wild eyes locked on mine through the chain-link barrier. "You are no longer top of the food chain, my dear," she spat, a feral hunger gleaming in her gaze. "It's just a matter of time before you meet hell on earth."

"We've already met," I retorted, my gun raised, aimed squarely at the monster. "And trust me, it's an even bigger pain in the ass than you."

My shot echoed through the desolate stillness, the creature's body crumpling with a sickening thud. The earsplitting report left me momentarily deafened, missing the sound of the back door creaking open.

"Get inside," Kilo barked, his anger-tinged command impossible to ignore. "Now."

"Or what?" I shot back, whirling to face him. Echo stood at his shoulder, arms crossed, a silent spectator to our escalating confrontation. "You'll keep hiding things from me?"

"Dammit, Amelia," Kilo seethed, his eyes flashing with a dangerous intensity. "Get in the fucking house. It's not safe out here, especially now that you've alerted every Lurker in the area."

"Apparently it's not safe in there either, since you can't tell me about something that puts me in danger."

With a snarl, Kilo lunged, his grip closing like a vice around my arm. I cursed and struggled, but he dragged me inexorably towards the porch. I stumbled as he released me, landing hard on the weathered wood.

"You wanna know what we're hiding so bad?" he yelled, his face twisted with frustration. "Here!" He flung a crumpled piece of paper at my feet. "But I don't want to hear it when you start to freak out."

Breathing hard, I glared at him. Snatching up the paper, I unfolded it. My eyes widened as I took in the image.

A picture.

A picture of me.