Only Two Seats

I held the mask tightly against my chest, pulling away from her.

"There is only one spare, Cynthia. Garrison gave it to me."

"Give it to me, Valerie," Cynthia demanded, her voice rising to a screech.

"You always try to take what's mine! First Father's attention, then my engagement, and now this? You want me to die!" I shot back.

"Shut up," Garrison growled.

The sheer force of his voice made both of us freeze. He didn't look at Cynthia. He kept his eyes on the iron doors of the elevator shaft.

"The next person who speaks without my permission gets left in this tunnel. Am I clear?"

Cynthia shrank back, her lips trembling as she glared at me.

Garrison hit the manual release lever. The iron gates slid back with a loud, metallic screech.

The maintenance tunnel was vast, lit by flickering fluorescent tubes. A heavy, armored transport vehicle sat twenty yards away, its engine idling with a deep, low rumble.

But between us and the vehicle, three figures were wandering through the dark.

They moved with jerky motions. Their clothes were torn, their skin showing the same black, pulsing veins we had seen upstairs. When the elevator doors opened, all three turned their heads simultaneously.

Their solid red eyes locked onto us.

"Run," Garrison ordered. "To the transport. Don't look back."

The soldier fired a burst from his rifle, dropping the closest creature instantly. Garrison grabbed my upper arm, pulling me forward as we sprinted out of the elevator.

My boots slammed against the wet concrete. Behind us, I could hear Cynthia's frantic breathing. She was wearing heels, her steps uneven and clumsy on the rough floor.

"Valerie! Help me!" she screamed.

I looked back.

Cynthia had tripped over a drainage pipe, falling hard onto her hands and knees. One of the infected creatures, a man who used to be the building's security guard, was lunging toward her from the shadows. His jaws were snapping together, white foam dripping from his lips.

My instincts as a medic took over.

I stopped running. I turned around to pull her up.

But as I reached out my hand to grab Cynthia's arm, her eyes locked onto mine. There was no fear in her expression anymore, only a cold, calculating desperation.

Instead of taking my hand to stand up, Cynthia grabbed my wrist with both hands and pulled down with all her weight. She shoved me directly into the path of the oncoming creature, using my body as a shield to scramble backward toward the vehicle.

"Sorry, Valerie!" she whimpered as she ran. "I have to survive!"

The creature lunged at me, its solid red eyes inches from my face. I raised my backpack, shoving it into the creature's chest to keep its teeth away from my throat.

The weight of the body slammed me hard against the concrete floor. The air rushed out of my lungs.

A loud, deafening gunshot echoed through the tunnel.

The creature's head shattered, dark black fluid spraying across my jacket. The body went limp, collapsing on top of me.

Before I could push the corpse away, Garrison was there. He kicked the creature off me, his face twisted in pure rage. He didn't check for injuries. He grabbed the front of my jacket, dragging me to my feet and shoving me hard against the side of the armored transport.

"I told you not to look back!" he roared, his hands gripping my shoulders so tightly I could feel his fingers through the leather. His chest was heaving, his eyes wild with a panic I had never seen in him before. "She threw you to that thing, Valerie! She tried to kill you!"

"I know," I whispered, my heart hammering against my ribs.

The cold reality of what my sister had done settled into my bones. She hadn't just abandoned me. She had tried to ensure my death so she could take my place.

"Get inside," Garrison growled, his voice dropping into a dark, dangerous register. "Now."

He threw open the rear door of the transport. Cynthia was already huddled inside the armored interior, shivering beneath a wool blanket one of the soldiers had given her.

She looked up when she saw me enter, her face turning pale as death. She hadn't expected me to walk through that door.

Garrison stepped into the vehicle behind me, slamming the massive steel door shut and locking the iron bolts into place. The driver slammed on the gas, and the transport surged forward through the dark tunnels.

The interior of the vehicle was small, lit by a single blue light. Garrison sat directly across from us, his rifle resting between his knees. The silence inside the cabin was absolute, save for the hum of the tires against the road.

Cynthia tried to gather her composure. She looked at Garrison, her eyes filling with tears again.

"Garrison, it wasn't what it looked like. I slipped. I accidentally grabbed her. I was just trying to save myself, I didn't mean to—"

"Save your breath," Garrison interrupted.

He didn't even look at her. He pulled a silver flask from his vest, unscrewed the cap, and handed it directly to me.

"Drink."

I took the flask, my fingers brushing against his. The brief touch sent a jolt of heat straight down my spine. I took a swallow of the sharp liquid, feeling it burn away the cold terror in my throat.

"We are approaching the central district wall," the driver called out through the front grate. "Sir, the crowds have broken through the first perimeter. They are shutting down the main gates five minutes early. If we don't clear the checkpoint now, we will be locked out."

Garrison leaned forward, tapping the driver's shoulder.

"Ram the secondary gate if you have to. We are not staying in the outer zone."

Cynthia leaned back against the steel wall, a small, triumphant smile returning to her lips despite her previous panic. She looked at me, her eyes gleaming with malice.

"We're going to the elite sector, Valerie. Father always said we belonged there. Once we get inside, things will go back to normal. Garrison will realize who is actually important."

I didn't answer her. I looked out the tiny, reinforced glass window at the back of the transport.

Behind us, the red fog was pouring out of the city's subway vents, flooding the streets like a rising tide. People were screaming, clawing at the reinforced walls of the sanctuary as the steel gates slowly began to descend.

Suddenly, the transport jolted violently. The sound of metal grinding against metal echoed from the front bumper.

The vehicle screeched to a halt.

"What's happening?" Cynthia demanded, her voice rising in panic again. "Why did we stop?"

The driver turned around, his face grim.

"The automated security system just locked down the sector gates ahead of schedule, Commander. The weight limit for the final elevator platform has been capped due to power failures. We have too much weight in the vehicle."

Garrison stood up, his massive frame filling the small cabin. He reached down, his hand wrapping around the handle of his rifle.

"Lighten the load," Garrison said coldly.

Cynthia smiled, looking at my backpack.

"Hear that, Valerie? Drop your bag. You don't need those cheap clinic supplies anyway."

Garrison walked past me. He stopped right in front of Cynthia.

Before she could react, he grabbed her arm, lifting her off the bench with a single, effortless pull.

"What are you doing?" Cynthia shrieked, her eyes widening in sheer disbelief. "Garrison! Let go of me!"

Garrison unlocked the rear door of the transport. The sounds of the panicked crowd outside flooded the cabin, screams, gunfire, and the distant howling of the infected.

"The contract was for two seats, Miss Kane," Garrison whispered, his voice cutting through the noise like a razor blade. "Valerie takes the first one. I take the second. You don't have a seat anymore."

With one powerful shove, Garrison threw Cynthia out into the dark, crowded tunnel.