Chapter 6: Regrets, Came Too Late

The morning air felt cold. Josh paced along the porch, his eyes fixed on the heavy iron gates. Natasha had been taken away for the past twenty-four hours, and there was nothing he could do to bring her back. The weight of it sat deep in his chest.

“She’s gone, Josh,” Martha said as she sipped her coffee. Her voice was flat. “Accept it. A woman like that… she was always pushing too far. She probably got herself into trouble. Nobody even knew she was bitten.”

Josh turned sharply. “She’s the best we have, Mom, and she's not just anyone. She's my wife.”

Beside Martha, Evelyn sobbed. She looked small, wrapped in a thick cardigan. “It’s all my fault,” she said through her tears. “If I wasn’t sick, I would have checked on her. She said she had a fever.”

Josh looked at her, his chest tightening. “No, it’s not your fault. It’s mine. I found her on the bathroom floor with that fever. I should have known something was wrong. I should have done something.”

“She treated me like a big sister,” Evelyn cried. “And now she’s gone.”

Before Josh could respond, a loud, sharp alarm cut through the air. It was the perimeter siren, a sound they had not heard in months.

“Infected at the north gate!” a guard shouted.

Josh grabbed his rifle, his thoughts racing. The base was supposed to be safe. Natasha had spent months setting up traps to keep the infected away. Why were they here now?

He ran toward the wall, with Martha and Evelyn right behind him. When he climbed up, his stomach dropped.

Hundreds of them pressed against the steel fence. These were not the slow, clumsy zombies from before. These were Hollows. Their skin was gray, and their movements were fast and restless.

“Open fire!” Josh ordered.

The guards raised their weapons—Stingers, the air rifles Natasha had designed. They fired small darts filled with a chemical that weakened the infected instead of killing them. When the darts hit, the effect was almost instant. The creatures slowed, their movements breaking down as the drug spread through them.

“They’re getting through the gap!” Martha shouted.

In the confusion, a few weakened zombies pushed through a loose part of the fence. Josh turned, ready to fire, but Martha was closer. She grabbed a heavy wooden pole and tried to push one of them back.

She wore thick gloves, but as she shoved the creature, her foot slipped.

The zombie lunged. Its teeth tore through the leather and sank deep into her forearm.

“No!” Josh shouted. He fired again, dropping the creature, then rushed forward and pulled his mother away.

The fight ended quickly, but it was not easy. The guards used fire to burn what was left, and soon the courtyard fell silent except for the crackle of flames and Martha’s uneven breathing.

They carried her to the clinic—the same room where Josh had argued with Natasha just two days ago.

Martha lay on the bed, her skin turning pale. Dark veins began to spread from the bite on her arm.

“Do something!” Josh shouted at the two young lab assistants. “I was bitten once, and I survived. How did I survive?”

Nobody spoke, because they had no answer for him.

“It wasn’t luck,” a rough voice said from the doorway.

An old man stepped in. It was Miller, the base’s handyman. He had been gone for two days in search of peace. He leaned on his cane, his face serious. “I saw what happened,” he said quietly. “A year ago, when you were lying in this same bed. Everyone else was outside worrying. I came in to check on you, and then I saw Natasha.”

Josh frowned. “What do you mean?”

“She had a needle in her arm,” Miller said. “She was drawing her own blood. She looked weak, like she could collapse at any moment. Then she took that blood and pushed it into your IV line. She stayed with you until your fever broke, even though she could barely stand.”

Josh felt like the ground was shifting under him. “Her blood? That doesn’t make sense.”

“It’s the truth,” Miller said. “She didn’t want you to know. She said you wouldn’t understand.”

Josh turned to Evelyn, his eyes filled with urgency. “Evelyn, you were there. You told me you stayed with me. You said you were the one who helped me when Natasha was out scouting for help.”

Evelyn stepped back, her face pale. She glanced at Martha, then back at Josh. The fear in her eyes was clear. “I… I stayed with you,” she said weakly. “I gave you water. I held your hand, that was all I did.”

“Did you save me?” Josh stepped closer, his voice low and sharp. “Look at my mother. Save her. You know how much she cares about you. If you saved me, then save her now.”

Evelyn broke down, her tears coming harder now. “I can’t!” she cried. “I didn’t do anything! It was Natasha. I just… I let you believe it was me because I wanted you to love me again.”

Silence filled the room.

Josh looked at his mother. Her body was shaking, her grip tight on the sheets as her eyes rolled back.

Then his gaze moved to the cabinet nearby, where Natasha’s tools were arranged neatly, just as she had always kept them.

The truth hit him hard.

The reason the base had stayed safe… was Natasha.

And now she is gone.

“I have to find her,” Josh said softly, his voice breaking. “I have to bring her back.”

But when he looked out the window at the empty road, he remembered the look in Natasha’s eyes before they took her away.

He had let it happen, he had sent her away himself, she was not coming back. And for the very first time in Josh's Adamson life , he understood something he had never faced before. He could not live without her.

“What have I done?” he whispered as he dropped to his knees beside his mother’s bed.

Outside, the wind picked up, moving through the empty watchtower where Natasha used to stand.

But she was gone.

And now, everything was starting to fall apart.