Chapter 3

Day one. The game began.

Gunshots echoed from outside.

I watched on the studio's security monitor as dozens of slow-moving figures shambled around the estate.

Their skin was a sickly grey, their eyes vacant. They moaned, mouths hanging open.

Zombies.

But just as I expected, they were incredibly slow. They looked like they could do little more than bite.

The family channel was on fire.

"This is too easy! These things are slow as turtles!"

"One-shot headshots!"

"This isn't a survival game, it's target practice!"

Chloe's voice was the most excited. "Darlings! Watch this!"

On screen, she raised a sniper rifle and aimed at the nearest zombie.

BANG!

The zombie's head exploded.

Chloe immediately held up her phone for a selfie, the headless corpse in the background.

"Perfect shot!" she bragged on the channel. "We should celebrate!"

"Celebrate what?" Liam's voice cut in.

"Our victory, of course!" Chloe giggled. "These slowpokes are no threat at all! We should have a party!"

She paused, then her voice got even more excited.

"I know! Let's crank the estate's sound system! Blast some music! It'll make this zombie hunt way more fun!"

"Good idea," Sarah agreed instantly. "These things are deaf and blind anyway."

"I'll go turn it on!" said Marcus.

A few minutes later, deafening rock music blasted through the estate.

The thumping bass and crashing drums vibrated all the way down to the basement.

Even through the soundproofing, I could feel the intense vibrations.

My family was on a killing spree, laughing and shooting to the rhythm.

"This is awesome!"

"We're apocalypse hunters!"

"Bring it on! More!"

Their laughter and screams mixed with the music, creating a head-splitting racket.

My private messages pinged.

[Liam: Ava, are you okay? Is it too stuffy down there?]

[Liam: I can protect you if you want to come up.]

[Liam: Even though you chose a strange talent, I won't abandon you.]

Before I could reply, Chloe's voice dripped into the channel. "Oh, Liam, darling. Why are you wasting your breath on that coward?"

Her tone suddenly turned sharp.

"She chose to hide in the basement, which means she doesn't trust us! If she wants to be a lone wolf, let her!"

"Chloe, be nice," Liam tried to placate her. "Ava is still my stepsister, our family."

"Family?" Uncle Marcus chimed in. "Real family sticks together, they don't hide in a corner!"

"Exactly!" Sarah agreed. "She's just trying to be different!"

"And she hasn't said a word on the channel," another cousin, David, added. "Who knows what kind of scheme she's plotting?"

"She's just spreading bad vibes," said Emma. "I vote we mute her. We don't need her ruining the mood."

"Good idea," Marcus agreed instantly. "We need unity in wartime. No room for pessimism."

"What does everyone else think?" Sarah asked.

A chorus of agreement.

"Mute her!"

"I support it!"

"She doesn't talk anyway!"

Only Liam hesitated. "Isn't that a bit much..."

"Darling," Chloe interrupted him sweetly, her tone leaving no room for argument. "You have a whole family here to protect, including your fiancée. She chose to isolate herself. We're just respecting her choice."

[System Alert: Channel Admin Liam has muted Player Ava.]

I looked at the notification and a cold smile touched my lips.

Everything was going according to plan.

I got up and started reinforcing the studio's soundproofing, pulling extra acoustic foam from a storage locker and sealing every crack around the door and walls.

When the music outside hit its peak, I felt it then—a strange thrumming deep in my blood. Something ancient and hungry was waking up inside me, agitated by the noise.

But just as quickly, my Bio-Stasis kicked in. My metabolism slammed on the brakes, and the agitated microbes settled back into a deep, quiet slumber.

The truth of the game was simple.

The virus wasn't spread by a bite.

It was activated by sound.

The party upstairs raged on, my family lost in the thrill of the slaughter.

They had no idea that every gunshot, every scream, every beat of the music was waking up the plague inside them.

And my "stupid" choice, the one they mocked and isolated me for, was the only thing keeping me alive.

"Another round!" Chloe yelled on the channel. "Crank the music to max! Let these zombies feel the power of rock!"

The music got even louder.

Through the monitor, I watched my cousin David spray a crowd of zombies with bullets. Then he suddenly doubled over. He slapped a hand over his mouth to stifle a hacking cough.

When he pulled it away, I saw it: dark red veins crawling up his neck like angry vines.

But David just shook his head and thumped his chest.

"Probably just drank too much," he said to the person next to him.

No one paid attention.

The party wasn't over.