chapter 8

Chapter 8: The Fallen Sister

​The heavy thud of Maya hitting the concrete echoed sharply in the narrow alleyway.

​"Maya!"

​Derrick dropped his torque wrench with a metallic crash and sprinted across the yard. He slid onto his knees beside his sister, his broad shoulders shaking as he pulled her limp body into his arms.

​"Maya, open your eyes. Hey, look at me. Maya!" Derrick shouted, his voice cracking with a raw, terrifying panic that tore straight through my chest.

​I didn't hesitate. I threw my car door open, slammed it shut, and bolted through the gap in the wooden fence separating my warehouse from his auto shop.

​Derrick was frantically checking her pulse, his face completely drained of color. He looked up, and his eyes locked onto me as I ran over. The hatred in his glare was blinding, but underneath it, he was drowning in pure terror.

​"Don't touch her," Derrick snarled, his voice trembling as he instinctively pulled Maya's unconscious body tighter against his chest, shielding her from me as if I were a threat. "Get away from us."

​"Derrick, she's burning up," I said, ignoring his hostility as I dropped to my knees right beside them. I reached out and pressed the back of my hand against Maya's forehead. Her skin was scorching hot, radiating heat like a small furnace. "Her fever is spiking dangerously high. If we don't reduce it right now, she's going to go into a seizure."

​"I said stay back!" Derrick roared, shoving my shoulder back with a rough, violent push that sent me stumbling onto the gravel. "This is your fault! All this dust from your stupid warehouse construction, the noise, the traffic—you stressed her out!"

​"Construction hasn't even started inside her room!" I yelled back, my voice cutting through his panic. I didn't care that my shoulder ached where he shoved me. "Look at her lips, Derrick. She's shivering, and her skin is flushed purple. This isn't dust. This is the same aggressive infection that's putting people in the hospital downtown!"

​Derrick froze. The anger in his face fractured for a split second, replaced by a terrifying realization. He knew how fragile Maya’s health had always been. She had caught a severe bronchial infection six months ago, and he had nearly lost her then.

​"We need to get her inside the office right now," I urged, sliding my arms under Maya’s legs and back before Derrick could protest again.

​Derrick stared at me in shock as I effortlessly lifted his sister. He scrambled to his feet, quickly taking her upper body from my arms and carrying her into the small, cluttered back office of the garage. He laid her down gently on the narrow camp cot where she usually rested after school.

​The office was stiflingly warm. Derrick stood over the cot, his massive hands clenching and unclenching at his sides, looking completely helpless.

​"Water," Derrick muttered, his voice breaking as he looked around the room. "I need a cold cloth—"

​"I have what she actually needs," I interrupted.

​I turned, ran out the door toward my SUV, and grabbed the medical kit I had stashed under the passenger seat. Inside was a specialized pack of high-grade broad-spectrum antibiotics and clinical antipyretics I had acquired through a private supplier two days ago—the exact medication I knew local pharmacies would run out of within a week.

​I rushed back into the office and unzipped the kit.

​Derrick blocked my path, putting a heavy hand on my chest. "What is that? Where did you get prescription-grade medicine?"

​"It doesn't matter where I got it," I snapped, glaring straight into his bloodshot eyes. "Your sister has less than an hour before her fever damages her organs. Do you want to stand here interrogating me, or do you want to save her life?"

​Derrick stared at the medical package in my hands. His jaw worked furiously as a silent war raged inside him. His pride, his hatred for me, and his fierce distrust clashed violently with his desperate love for his sister.

​Finally, his shoulders slumped. He stepped aside, his voice dropping to a harsh, broken whisper. "If you hurt her... I swear to God I will tear this building down around you."

​"Just hold her shoulders steady," I instructed, kneeling beside the cot.

​I quickly prepped the injection and administered the fever-reducing medication into Maya's arm, followed by a measured dose of liquid antibiotic. Maya groaned softly in her sleep, her body wracked by a violent shiver, but within minutes, the violent twitching in her hands began to slow down.

​I pressed a cold, damp towel against her forehead, wiping away the thick layer of sweat.

​Derrick stood frozen over the cot, watching his sister's chest rise and fall in a steadier rhythm. The frantic panic in his eyes slowly faded into a grim, exhausted silence. He hadn't realized how close he had just come to losing her.

​"Her temperature will start dropping over the next hour," I said quietly, packing the medical supplies back into my kit. I stood up, brushing the dust off my knees. "She needs rest, fluids, and zero exposure to the cold air outside. I'll have my contractor install a heavy-duty medical-grade air filtration unit in this room by this afternoon."

​Derrick didn't look at me. He sat down heavily on the edge of a metal stool beside the cot, gently taking Maya’s small, limp hand in his calloused, grease-stained palm.

​"Why are you doing this?" Derrick asked, his voice dead, devoid of its usual explosive anger. He kept his eyes fixed on his sister's face. "Every time I tell you to get out of my life, you show up with money, leases, or medicine. What do you want from me, Evelyn? Just name your price and leave us alone."

​The question hung heavy in the small, quiet room.

​I looked down at him—at the broad, powerful man who had died protecting me in a past life, and who currently looked at me like I was a plague. I wanted to tell him the truth. I wanted to tell him about the dead walking the streets, about the fire, about the teeth of the horde, and how I came back from the grave just to keep him breathing.

​Instead, I swallowed the lump in my throat and kept my face impassive.

​"I don't want your money, Derrick," I said softly, turning toward the door. "Just keep her inside. Things outside are going to get a lot worse very soon."

​I walked out of the office, closing the door quietly behind me.

​Outside in the alleyway, the construction crew was already bolting the thick steel security shutters onto the exterior walls of my warehouse. The world looked normal for now—cars passing on the main road, pedestrians walking by under the morning sun, birds chirping in the power lines.

​But I knew the truth. Ninety days. Every tick of the clock brought us closer to the edge.

​My phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out and glanced at the screen. It was an automated notification from my bank account portal: Injunction lifted. Funds fully restored.

​Julian had caved. The federal threat had broken his defense in less than twelve hours.

​I slipped the phone back into my pocket, my eyes narrowing as I looked toward the northern horizon where my valley bunker was being sealed in concrete. Julian was neutralized for now, Maya was stable, and Derrick was trapped safely on my block.

​The pieces were falling into place. But as I turned back toward the warehouse to oversee the installation of our backup generator, a cold wind swept down the alleyway, carrying with it a faint, foul scent that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

​Up north, hidden deep within the mountain forests beyond the valley, the first mutated wildlife carcass had already begun to turn.

​Patient Zero was no longer a theoretical date on a calendar. It was a countdown already ticking down the final seconds.