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Sniffing, I unravel my arms from his neck and lower my gaze. “There have been nights I’ve thought about it. When I allow myself to be dragged into that pain. Let it consume me like flames, to leave nothing but ash. And I can’t. I know he’d be stubborn enough to tell me to turn back. But there isn’t anything in this world I wouldn’t do to find him again. To feel his arms around me once more.”

Finger hooked beneath my chin, he lifts my gaze to his and raises a brow. “Then, let’s stop talking and go find that stubborn motherfucker.”

Through a tearful laugh, I nod. “Let’s bring him back.”

Sunrise is another couple hours away, dawn on the cusp of breaking, as we trudge through darkness toward the forest, where we first helped the group climb over the wall. Nine of us now stride back toward that wall to enter Calico. Cadmus, Titus, Brandon and I, as well as Rhys, Kenny, Jed, Ratchet and Tinker. We’ve already decided to split into two groups. One will venture inside Calico, while the other descends underground, into the old research lab. We’ll meet at the main entrance of the hospital within two hours. Should one group become compromised, for whatever reason, the other is to continue out and be sure to lock the hatch. Communications will be made by walkie-talkies provided by Gregor.

My stomach is twisted in knots from the guilt of believing that I’m the one responsible for all these people risking their lives to venture back inside. Rhys would’ve never known the cure lies within the tunnels, unless Kenny eventually told him, for Wren’s sake. I doubt it, though.

If I’m honest with myself, there were moments over the course of the last couple months when I honestly believed I’d never breach those doors again. That, at some point, I’d be forced to accept that Valdys was forever lost to me. There’s a chance he may still be lost. I’ve no idea what we’ll find within that solemn tomb. All I know is, one way, or another, I have to try. He would do the same for me—he’d have clawed at those walls every day, down to the bones of his fingertips, if he thought he’d see me again.

We reach the tree that hangs over the wall and begin our climb toward the other side. One by one, we traverse the thick trunk, then slip down the rope to the open yard below, where we’re greeted by the familiar grounds of the commissary. Hard to say which wing. Judging by the position of the building, I’d guess it’s S-block, but it doesn’t matter anymore. It’s all one singular hell inside, and we’re all prepared to breach the gates.

Silver barriers, like the one at the front entrance, cover the openings where windows once cast the false hope of freedom. I remember the days of staring out over the yard, searching for my sister. One of the many reminders why I can’t let this place take another that I love.

Jed and Rhys assume the lead as we step through overgrown fields, where the remains of starving Ragers lie unmoving, their bodies nothing but bones and mottled skin that have begun to decompose. I cover my nose against the stench on the air, one of putrid death, not like the incinerators, or the soldier I saw cooked over a flame at the marauders camp. It smells of rot and decay.

Infection.

“Careful not to disrupt the bodies. They hold pockets of Dredge,” Jed says, stepping over a half-disintegrated Rager.

“Assuming I’m a carrier of Dredge and bitten by one of these early Ragers, what happens to me?”

“I suspect you’d eventually turn, though perhaps at a slower rate than most. Alphas are the exception, as I mentioned, and since you’ve been primed with Alpha protein, my best guess is, you’d be afforded some small benefit of the gene, though not much.” His voice arrives slightly muffled through the mask of his suit. “All theory, though.”

I’m not certain whether I’m a carrier, or not, except Jed mentioned most second generation are. “Why does being a carrier matter? And what does that even mean?”

“It means, somewhere, you breathed in bits of the disease, though maybe not enough to breach the brain barrier. But your body produced antibodies to it. In Alphas, the antibodies are stronger. Faster. They can fight off Dredge before it has a chance to take root.”

I step over what appears to be nothing but a skeleton, but a twitch of the bones tells me the damn thing is still alive. “How long can a Rager survive without food?”

“It depends. Humans tend to live anywhere between thirty, to forty, days without food, so long as they’re hydrated with water. Some go as long as sixty before they die.”

One of the things I’ve stressed about is Valdys running out of food, so this comes as welcomed news to me.

“A Rager doesn’t have the same brain function as humans” he continues. “So, where we’d require about ten grams of glucose to keep our brains alive, a Rager requires less, and more energy can be allocated to skeletal muscles. I’d venture to say a Rager can last twice that of a human.”

Nearly three months without food. Which means, the mutations and Ragers trapped inside that hospital, undoubtedly feasting on the dead for the first couple of weeks, aren’t even close to perishing. In fact, they’re probably ready for their next meal.

Only a few Ragers stumble along inside the pen that once seemed like an impossible barrier to the world beyond them. When Bryani and I first arrived at Calico, I remember it was this small cluster of the infected that kept me from even attempting escape. A hopeless barricade to the horizon.

All three Alphas hop the fence, Rhys taking the lead, as they charge toward the Ragers without the slightest hesitation. What begins as a small horde of about a dozen ends with every one of them lying on the ground in various stages of mutilation--most with their heads removed. Once the threat is cleared, we climb the fence and begin our search for the hatch. Flicking on a flashlight, I pan over the heavily-trod landscape, where Ragers have paced enough to pack the sand, preventing any vegetation from obstructing our search.

“Found it!” Kenny calls out, and all of us gather around a patch of sand that’s shadowed by the dark lid of the hatch. Falling to their knees, both Kenny and Titus dig away the dirt, revealing a thick metal handle and small box, which Kenny flips open to show flat keypad beneath. Without hesitation, he enters the date and tugs at the handle.

“’The hell?” He types it again, and I watch this time, to be sure there’s no slip, or mistake. One. Zero. Zero. One. Two. Zero. One. Seven. Again, he attempts to lift it.

At a chuckle from the right, I snap my attention toward Jed, who stands shaking his head. “It seems you’re mistaken. Gregor said D-Day.” Jed kneels down before the hatch and types in a different date. Ten. Nineteen. Two thousand sixteen. “This was the date we officially identified the pathogen, after isolating it from workers who built the facility underground. Ironic that they became infected while trying to construct the very laboratory that would go on to study the disease.”

The hatch pops up out of the sand, and Jed lifts it with ease, releasing a cold blast of air that ruffles my hair as I bend over it, peering down into the darkness.

The sound of clanging metal and the click of a chain must be the sliding open of the barriers Gregor spoke of.

Angling his flashlight, Jed sweeps it over the tunnels below, where we can see metal prongs of a ladder sticking out from the wall of the shaft, which descends down beyond the light’s reach. “I’ll not lie to you. This is, perhaps, the most foolish thing we could possibly conjure.” With a huff, he crouches beside the tunnel’s entrance. “I remember a colleague of mine. Jim Bryson. A very promising young scientist who was responsible for isolating the R-One protein. He was extracting serum from a newly-infected Rager when the alarms first went off. We were separated by a window, and as is standard procedure, all doors locked, and Jim found himself locked inside the room with the creature. The alarms seemed to irritate it—so much so, it broke free of its binds. I had precisely ten minutes to evacuate the building. Five of those were spent watching this beast tear apart my colleague like a killer whale on a seal. He toyed with him for a while. Tossing him about, before he bisected him alive and devoured his insides.” His brow furrows, eyes lost as if to the memory. “It’s important to remember … these aren’t mindless killing machines. They may not have the capacity for logic, but they understand vengeance.” His words strum a harrowing chord down my spine, and I swallow a gulp, peering down into the depths once more.

“Let’s go find those samples,” he says, slipping his leg over the edge of the hole.

Rhys follows after him. Then Kenny, Brandon, Tinker and Ratchet, until finally, Cadmus, Titus and I bring up the rear. As I step carefully down each rung, I hear the thump of feet landing against the bottom, and take comfort knowing there is a bottom where Ragers aren’t waiting to catch our fall. The incessant thrum of excitement that beats through me is tamped down by the terror of knowing what lurks in these tunnels. The vindictive beasts that would make play out of my brutal death, should one get its hands on me. I’m assuming that would be after it’s dragged me to its nest and had its way with me first. Though I’d never admit this aloud, I’m suddenly grateful for both Cadmus and Titus, my protectors, who would fight to keep that from happening.