Part 3Dawn After the Blood Moon

By the time Rhys and I made it back, the Sanctuary was a slaughterhouse.

The air hung thick with the stench of blood and gunpowder. Gunshots and screams echoed through the research labs, now overrun with the dead. Limbs and torsos littered the corridors, a gruesome testament to the failed defense.

My eyes burned with tears. No matter what I did, I was too late.

Rhys stood beside me, speechless, his face ashen.

I ignited my power, fire erupting from my palms, incinerating the closest zombies. The shock finally broke Rhys’s trance, and he joined the fight, a whirlwind of motion and controlled violence.

Just as my energy reserves began to bottom out, a zombie lunged at me from my blind side. I had no time to dodge, only to wrap myself in a desperate shield of flame, bracing for the impact.

BANG!

A single gunshot sent the creature stumbling sideways. Marcus was standing at the entrance to the basement, a pistol in his shaking hands, picking off the undead one by one.

At the same time, the silhouettes of more Powered fighters appeared at the main gate.

Reinforcements had arrived.

A surge of desperate hope flooded through me. We fought side-by-side with the newly arrived teams, a coordinated storm of power and bullets that drove the horde back.

When the last zombie was finally cut down, I collapsed to the ground, gasping for air.

The basement door creaked open. But when the survivors emerged, my relief curdled into horror. Barely a tenth of them had made it. The smile died on my lips.

Rhys approached me, his head bowed in shame. “I’m so sorry, Larry. This is my fault.”

Before I could respond, a cheerful, lilting voice echoed through the ravaged hall.

“Well, look at this! Are all you guys here to throw a surprise party for James?”

And there she was. Lena, walking in with James’s arm wrapped around her waist, her Vanguard team trailing behind them, all smiles and laughter.

Her smile faltered as she took in the carnage. Her eyes landed on me, and a cruel, mocking smirk spread across her face.

“So, is the little drama over, Evan? How does it feel to have your plan fall apart?” She waved a dismissive hand. “Whatever. It’s James’s birthday. Don’t be an eyesore. We have a party to get back to.”

She was practically giddy, completely oblivious to the daggers being stared at her from all sides. Her own team members were starting to notice the bodies, their cheerful expressions slowly dissolving into confusion and horror.

James, meanwhile, pulled Lena into a deep, theatrical kiss right in front of me. When he broke away, he shot me a smug, triumphant look.

“Sorry, Dr. Larry. Lena lost a dare. She has to be my girlfriend for the day. You don’t mind, do you?”

His smirk was wiped off his face by a bucket of filthy water.

A survivor, his eyes blazing with hatred, stood trembling before them. He and the others began grabbing anything they could find—metal pipes, broken equipment—and started advancing.

“You son of a bitch! What are you gloating about? Enjoying the party you paid for with our lives?”

“You monster! Why aren’t you the one lying dead on the floor?!”

“Get out! We don’t need you two traitors protecting us!”

…