Helping people was Kamille Ali's goal in life, embedded within her from birth and all the way through to the end of the world.
The rise of the dead and the loss of her parents weren't things she was prepared for. With only her brother at her side...
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"Get off me! I said let go!"
Kamille fought hard against the two armed men holding her, who were attempting to move her forward, but they were too strong for her petite frame.
"Kamille, look at me, look!"
Kamille's heart was racing in her chest as she looked up, finding Travis' surprisingly calm eyes staring back at her.
"Don't struggle," he told her whilst being dragged forward by two other armed men. "Just let them."
Kamille listened to him, ignoring the guard who muttered "bitch" under his breath, and instead doing as Travis said. She calmed her breathing down, trying not to get angry. They were outnumbered, clearly, and they had nowhere to run to. She had to listen for now, at least until they had their whereabouts.
It was stupid, thinking the four of them could reach the U.S./Mexican border without facing some sort of resistance. As soon as they arrived, they were captured by what appeared to be soldiers, all dressed in uniform and carrying guns. No questions were asked as Travis and Kamille were ripped away from Madison and Alicia, stuffed into a separate truck, and driven to some ex-government-controlled facility.
Kamille tried not to panic as the both of them were led into a building that was once probably some living quarters, but now empty of people. They were forced down some stairs, underground, and the echoes of screams and shouts escaped the darkness of the hallways ahead. Where the hell were they?
A gunshot rang out, making Kamille freeze with fear, but the two soldiers dragging her down the steps forced her to keep moving. She prayed dozens of times in her head, hoping she wasn't being led to her death. But the laughs from the soldiers down the hall weren't promising.
"Time of death: 16.15."
A chuckle followed. "16.15."
As Kamille was dragged past a doorway of what seemed to be some old shower room, she caught a glimpse of a dead man chained to a shower, and a soldier writing '16.15' on his head with a marker. She was shoved forward, along with Travis, before she could try to piece together what they were doing.
