Page 55 of Glass Rose
Her hands pause over the soil. “I hope so. Yeah.”
A muffled crash echoes from below, followed by John’s distinctive bark of laughter.
“What the hell?” Her head snaps ups.
I drop my trowel, dirt spilling across my jeans. “What are they doing?”
We exchange a look before scrambling to our feet. Min-Ji reaches the door first, opening it as more commotion filters up from the warehouse floor.
“—at least a dozen of them,” John’s voice carries up the stairwell. “Probably from the campground two miles east.”
Infected. Again.
We descend the metal stairs, Min-Ji’s boots clanging against each step while I follow in quieter sneakers. The main floor comes into view—John gesturing wildly at a map spread across the folding table, Alex filming with his backup camera, and Gavin…
He stands with his back to me, shoulders rigid beneath a black t-shirt that hugs every muscle, and a knife resting in its sheath at his hip.
“What’s happening?” Min-Ji asks.
John glances up. “Got movement on the perimeter sensors. Group of infected moving through the woods.”
“And you’re what—planning a welcoming party?” I step around Min-Ji, positioning myself where Gavin has to acknowledge me.
His eyes flick to mine before returning to the map, where John taps two locations. “They’re moving along here and here. If we take the north trail, we can indeed welcome them.”
“We?” Min-ji crosses her arms. “Who exactly is ‘we’?”
“Me, the kid with the camera, and the super-soldier.” John winks at Gavin, who doesn’t react.
“And when were you planning to inform us?” Min-Ji asks.
“When we got back,” Gavin says. “No need to worry everyone.”
“I’m coming with you,” I say.
John laughs. “Hell no, sweetheart. This ain’t a field trip.”
“I’m not asking permission.” I plant my feet firmly on the concrete floor. “I need to learn how to handle them, not just through Gavin’s or your knife lessons.”
“Sofia—” Gavin starts.
“No.” I cut him off. “I need more real-world experience if I’m going to survive this. And you need all the help you can get.”
“I wanted to say you’re right.”
“I—what?”
“You do need it.” His jaw works, eyes darting to John before returning to mine. “But you’re coming with me.”
John sighs. “I don’t think it’s a good idea, but fine. Get dressed properly. Long sleeves, sturdy pants, boots. And take this.” He hands me a hunting knife larger than my grandfather’s. “Blade’s longer. Gives you more distance.”
I hurry back to the camper to change. Five minutes later, I emerge in cargo pants, hiking boots, and a long-sleeved thermal I picked from the shelves days ago. My father’s knife straps to my right thigh, John’s to my left.
“We split up,” John says. “Cover more ground. Gavin and?—”
“I’ll take the western approach with you,” Alex interjects before he can finish, adjusting his camera strap. “Been wanting to check out that side anyway.”
John nods. “Alex and I’ll handle the western approach. Gavin and Sofia take the northeast section. Use the radios, channel three.”
