Page 48 of Their Mate
“You hear that?” Logan murmured, his gaze flicking toward Edward.
He paused briefly, head tilted carefully, then nodded. “Electrical. Steady vibration. Could be machinery.”
Logan moved closer, almost protectively. “Could be another trap.”
Edward nodded thoughtfully. “Careful now.”
We pressed slowly onward, emerging finally into a broader tunnel junction, dull lighting illuminating the chamber in a faint, muted glow. At the far side stood a row of large, battered generators, a bit beat up and rusted from decades underground, yet remarkably still humming faintly with power.
I moved in to take a look, eyes scanning the equipment carefully. “Solar-powered generators. It’s pretty old tech, pre-Collapse. They’ve kept running somehow.”
Jamie crouched beside one, studying it curiously. “Bloody impressive craftsmanship to keep going so long. Maybe someone rigged some panels topside, hidden from view, protected.”
Edward nodded slowly, clearly intrigued. “Could be remnants of an old encampment down here. Maybe survivors trying to hold out.”
Logan glanced warily around the junction. “Which means we might not be alone.”
Aidan limped forward guardedly. “We keep our eyes open, stay ready.”
We moved slowly past the generators, following cables along the walls deeper into the tunnel. Gradually, the corridor widened into a larger cavernous chamber, an open space clearly designed as an encampment.
Scattered around the cavern stood makeshift structures made of rusted sheet metal and wooden planks, as well as tarp-covered shelters. Abandoned cooking pots sat cold over long-extinguished fires and dirty rags of clothing hung from lines strung between crude support beams.
Edward moved toward the center of the encampment, kneeling to examine old supplies abandoned in a pile. “This wasn’t recent. This was used years ago at best.”
“What happened to them?” Logan asked, wariness written all over his tense frame.
I looked around, trying to guess for myself. The supplies, the bedding, scattered belongings, everything looked like it had been abandoned abruptly. It seemed much like the last human settlement I’d seen on the surface, desperate survivors clinging stubbornly to life, hoping against hope for salvation. Only here, underground, beneath the earth, salvation clearly hadn’t come.
At the cavern’s far side, near an improvised barricade, Logan paused, crouching down. “Look. More bones. Lycan attack?”
Edward stepped carefully closer, his brow furrowing. “Hard to say. Whatever it was, they put up a fight.”
I knelt beside a set of bones, eyes squinting in quiet horror, taking in the claw and teeth marks gouged deep into them. “Lycans, definitely. These people didn’t stand a chance.”
Scanning the scattered debris carefully, my training enabled me to notice details others might miss. A faint metallic glint caught my eye beneath a pile of decaying fabric and rusted equipment, partially hidden near a makeshift table.
I knelt down and brushed away layers of dust, revealing an old, battered communications device and a cracked laptop, both coated thickly with grime. My heart skipped slightly with a spark of hope. Maybe I could find something useful on this old equipment—maps, layouts of the tunnels, anything that might help us.
Edward noticed me first. “You find something, Sera?”
“Old equipment,” I murmured distractedly, already brushing off the keyboard and checking the power supply. “Might still be useful, if we can get it running.”
Logan approached, wary but curious, a quiet presence beside me. “Careful. Could be booby-trapped.”
“I know,” I replied tersely, irritation flaring briefly at the unnecessary caution. I gently lifted the laptop’s screen and pressed the power button, surprised when a dull glow flickered weakly to life beneath cracked glass. “Looks like it’s still getting some juice.”
Jamie knelt beside me, impressed despite the tension. “Those generators must’ve kept it alive. Bloody impressive.”
The computer stuttered and struggled, its systems sluggish and glitchy. I navigated slowly through outdated screens and corrupted files. Finally, a folder labeledDiary Entriescaught my eye. I hesitated briefly, curiosity warring with caution. With anticipation buzzing through me, I clicked to open the file.
A video filled the grainy screen, the image blurred but visible enough. A man stared out from the screen, a tired, weary face, etched deeply with lines of exhaustion and grief. His eyes were dark, haunted, and disturbingly familiar.
“My name is Dr. Connor Reilly,” he spoke quietly, voice rough with exhaustion, pain etched clearly into every word. “This is my personal log—day 482. The experiments continue to fail. Each mutation unstable, unsustainable. We’ve lost another test subject today.” He exhaled roughly, running one hand through dark, disheveled hair. “If we don’t succeed soon, humanity has no chance left whatsoever.”
Aidan shifted beside me, surprise evident on his face. “That’s the Elder Lycan, isn’t it? But he’s… human.”
I nodded slowly, my heart hammering furiously as the realization settled heavily in my chest. “He wasn’t always a lycan then. He was human, just like us.”
