Chapter 18: The Tides That Reshaped Us
Time: 2:13 AM
They hadn't left the city yet. Not entirely, though it felt like they had been drifting along its edges for days—caught in the space between escape and entrapment. Smoke still hung above like a mourning veil, clinging to the cracked skyline, staining the stars. Below, silence prowled in broken alleyways and burned-out intersections.
Aria drove through it like a ghost.
She hadn't spoken since Mae died.
Not when they carried her body from the ambush.
Not when they lit the stolen vehicle and drove into the ash-soaked night.
Not even when Selene whispered her name, a dozen times, gently, carefully—afraid her voice might fracture what little was left of the girl beside her.
They'd been on the move ever since, but tonight—tonight they stopped.
An abandoned apartment complex stood like a cracked ribcage against the city's charred chest, the top floor half-collapsed, vines spilling in through broken glass like veins. Selene led them there, checking every room, clearing corners like muscle memory. It wasn't safety. There was no such thing anymore. But it was shelter. It was quiet.
It was enough—for now.
Selene moved like she was built for ruins, long strides echoing against dusty tile, her boots hard against the hollow floor. She didn't flinch anymore. She didn't ask if Aria was okay.
She knew the answer.
"You should sleep," Selene said without turning. She was organizing their salvaged supplies, restacking ammo, reloading magazines. "We leave before sunrise."
Aria sat curled on the edge of a lopsided mattress, her shoulders hunched, face shadowed. Her eyes were dry now, but only because she'd run out of tears.
"I can't." Her voice barely carried across the room. "Not after… not after her."
Selene stilled. Her hands, mid-motion, clenched for just a moment—then resumed. "I know."
"No, you don't." Aria's voice cracked like glass. "You didn't see her face when they turned on her. I—I tried to save her. I did. She screamed for me. And I…"
"You drove," Selene interrupted softly, standing now. "You kept driving. That's why we're still breathing."
Aria flinched. "I didn't want to live like this."
Selene crossed the room and sat next to her, close enough to touch but leaving a deliberate space. "None of us wanted this. But Mae made her choice. We make ours now."
Aria stared at the floor. "She trusted them."
"She was wrong."
"But why did they kill her?" Aria whispered. "They were supposed to be escaping with us. Why—"
"Because the city changed them." Selene's voice was cold again. "They weren't people anymore. Not really. They were just shadows wearing faces."
Silence hung between them like smoke—thick and suffocating.
Then Selene added, quieter: "It's not just the infection, Aria. It's this place. It poisons people. Turns grief into something ugly."
Aria looked up, her eyes glinting wetly in the dim light. "So why are we still here?"
Selene didn't answer immediately. Instead, she rose and walked to the shattered window, her silhouette sharp against the moonlight. The wind pulled at her dark jacket, stirring dust in lazy spirals.
"Because you're not ready yet," she said. "And I'm not leaving without you."
The words struck Aria like a soft blow. For a moment, she didn't know if she wanted to scream at her or cry into her shoulder.
Selene continued, voice distant. "This place—it reshapes people. Breaks them down until they forget who they were. What they believed in. That's what happened to Mae's crew. And it's what'll happen to us if we stay too long."
She turned then, green eyes gleaming like submerged stones. "But I needed you to see it. To feel what I've felt all this time. Because the next part of this journey—it'll tear you apart if you don't decide who you are."
Aria swallowed, throat tight. "And who are you, Selene?"
Selene didn't blink. "Someone who doesn't get to mourn the dead until the living are safe."
Aria stood now, slowly, brushing the dust from her pants. Her knees trembled. Her hands shook.
"I don't know if I'm strong enough to survive the next part," she said, her voice raw.
"You don't have to be," Selene replied. "You just have to move."
Another silence passed between them before Aria finally nodded. Not a confident nod. Not brave. But it was movement.
Selene reached into her pack and pulled out a folded map, spreading it on the cracked countertop. "We'll head northeast. There's a flooded zone outside the old dam. No patrols. No city dogs. Just terrain."
"Dangerous?"
"Always."
Aria traced a line across the map with her finger. "And after that?"
"We find the radio tower. We send the signal."
"And if no one answers?"
Selene met her gaze. "Then we keep moving."
They didn't speak again for a while. The apartment creaked and groaned around them, as if even the walls were tired of standing.
Later, when the night deepened, Selene found Aria curled beneath the edge of a moth-eaten blanket, her back rising and falling with shallow breaths.
Selene stood at the window again, watching the horizon for any sign of movement. Her reflection looked older in the cracked glass—haunted. Human.
She whispered, so soft only the wind could hear: "Don't become like me."
But even she wasn't sure who she was saying it to anymore.