Page 34 of Glass Rose
Something in his posture softens. “Okay.”
I stare out the window at the suburban landscape—so normal looking, but it’s more like any Sunday morning when people are still in bed instead of a Thursday morning when people get ready for work. Except for the occasional abandoned car, the random splatter of blood on a mailbox, and the eerie absence of birdsong.
It’s spreading.
The van’s digital clock flips to 7:00 as we arrive at the supermarket parking lot.
No sign of Alex or Dr. Cho.
“Told you,” Gavin mutters.
My stomach drops. “They wouldn’t just?—”
EIGHT
SOFIA
The store’s back door bursts open, and Alex emerges, backpack bulging, with Dr. Cho trailing behind him with a shopping cart piled high with supplies.
They stop at our approach.
“See?” I can’t help the smugness in my voice. “They waited.”
“They’re leaving.”
He’s right. Alex has keys in his hand.
Gavin parks beside them, jumping out before the engine fully dies.
Alex waves the camera in our direction, red recording light blinking like an accusing eye. “Look who finally decided to show up. Our resident mad scientist and her pet experiment.”
I slam the door shut. “Stop filming me.”
“Seriously?” He keeps the camera trained on my face. “This is history in the making. The apocalypse, live-streamed. Or at least recorded for posterity.”
“I said stop.” I shove my palm against the lens, pushing it away. “The military is looking for me. They knew my name, Alex. They could be tracking us right now.”
“It wasn’t the military,” Gavin says. “It was Green themselves.”
“Green themselves?” I face him. “What are you talking about?”
Alex lowers his camera, suddenly more interested in the conversation than filming it. “You’re saying Green Industries has its own private military now?”
“Kind of.” Gavin’s eyes scan the horizon. “Containment teams. Specialized units for when something goes wrong.”
“We need to go. Now.” Dr. Cho pushes the shopping cart forward, the wheels squeaking against the pavement. “The store’s television was still working. Emergency broadcasts. The virus has reached major population centers. They’re calling it ‘civil unrest,’ but the footage…”
A bad feeling erupts in my stomach. “How bad?”
“Bad enough that they’ve stopped pretending it’s contained.” She finally looks at me, and I see the fear she’s been hiding. “They mentioned Green Research by name. Said there was a terrorist attack that released an experimental pathogen.”
“Terrorist attack?” My voice rises. “They’re blaming us?”
“Easier than admitting they created a zombie virus,” Alex says.
Gavin moves to the cart, checking what they gathered. “We need to move fast. And ditch the camera. Nobody needs it.”
“What about my footage?” Alex clutches it to his chest. “I’ve been documenting everything. The world needs to see?—”
