Chapter 16: Leaving With The Sisters

In the quiet aftermath of our sex, I pulled my cock out of Rachel’s cave. A soft grunt escaped her lips, but my attention was captured by leaking virgin blood of Rachel mingled with the remnants of our passion.

Overwhelmed by a sudden of exhaustion, I made my way to the adjacent shower, seeking solace in the cascade of water. The cool stream washed over me, carrying away the sweat and fatigue that clung to my body. For five minutes, I stood there, lost in thought, the water serving as a temporary baptism, cleansing me of the immediate past.

Emerging from the shower, I hastily dried myself with a nearby towel and dressed in my pants and T-shirt. As I turned to face the room, a nervous glance over my shoulder revealed Rachel, now awake and seemingly freed from the haze of lust that had previously enveloped her. Her gaze was fixed on the ceiling.

I felt a pang of guilt, a desire to apologize for what had happened. But the words caught in my throat, tangled in the web of secrecy that surrounded my ability to heal. Revealing the truth would require an explanation I wasn’t ready to give, a risk I wasn’t prepared to take. Emily had been an exception, a unique case that I still struggled to understand. But Rachel? The instinct to keep my ability as hidden and secret as possible was overwhelming, a gut feeling that had been with me since the dream that had first revealed my power.

"Well, thank you for giving me your virginity, Rachel," I said playing again the bastard. "It would have been a shame for you to die a virgin. But a promise is a promise. I will take your sister to safety."

With that, I gathered my belongings and exited the room, the door clicking shut behind me. Despite the lack of concrete evidence, I felt an inexplicable certainty that Rachel had been cured.

The apartment was quiet, Rebecca still sequestered in her room. I made my way to the kitchen, the cool water from the tap a welcome relief to my parched throat. As I sat on the sofa, the silence of the apartment was broken only by the sound of my own breathing, my nerves on edge as I awaited Rachel’s reaction to the events that had unfolded.

A minute later, Rebecca emerged from her room, all dressed up ready to leave with filled bag over her shoulders that seemed quiet heavy for her...

"Where is my sister?" She asked right after. But I intercepted her, my hand gently resting on her arm.

"I’ve spoken to her," I said reassuringly. "She needs some time alone. She asked us to give her space."

Rebecca’s gaze searched mine, her reluctance to accept my words was there. But eventually, she nodded, taking a seat on the sofa across from me.

"You said you live upstairs?" She asked.

"Yeah," I replied, my mind momentarily drifting to the life I had left behind, the mother who was no longer a part of it.

"Alone?" She probed further.

"I had a mother," I said, the past tense not lost on her. Her eyes widened in understanding, a flicker of empathy crossing her features before she averted her gaze, the awkwardness of the moment settling between us.

"What about you?" I asked her. I knew she lived alone with Rachel, but the circumstances surrounding their solitude were a mystery to me.

Rebecca’s gaze hardened, her voice cold. "They abandoned us."

"Why?" I asked.

"You don’t need to know that," she snapped, frowning at me.

"Alright," I conceded, leaning back against the sofa.

For some reason, it was clear that Rebecca’s dislike for me ran deep, a sentiment that I struggled to understand. We sat in silence, the minutes ticking by, Rebecca’s worry for her sister evident in the way she fidgeted, her eyes darting towards Rachel’s room.

Just as I was about to reassure her once more, the door to Rachel’s room creaked open. She stood there. Dressed in fresh clothes, her hair and face clean, she was certainly different to the vulnerable girl I had met entering her room or when I had left the room, leaving her all wrecked on the bed filled with our passion. The transformation was remarkable...

"S—Sister?" Rebecca’s voice was filled with shock and relief. "What happened?"

Rachel smiled, her arms enveloping her sister in a gentle embrace. "I don’t know either," she said softly. "I think the bite mark was too shallow."

Rebecca’s gaze flickered towards me. "Like what happened to his friend?"

Well, that was a lie.

As long as you were bitten by one of those things, it was over.

Unless you managed to sever the infected limb within minutes—and even then, survival wasn’t guaranteed—the virus might spread through your bloodstream like wildfire.

But I had used a different method entirely. Something cleaner, more reliable, though infinitely more dangerous for me to reveal.

Anyway I was troubled by Rachel a bit.

Did she truly believe she had recovered so miraculously? Did she think the infection had been nothing more than a shallow wound that caused temporary pain before healing completely?

No,

I thought, looking at her face as she moved about the room.

She’s not that naive.

"Maybe yes," Rachel’s voice cut through my thoughts. She had turned to face Rebecca, but her gaze cold, shifted toward me.

Strange...

Perhaps she didn’t believe I had directly intervened in her healing, which presented a double-edged sword. On one hand, it meant she wouldn’t discover my ability—a secret that could either make me invaluable or mark me as a target. On the other hand, it meant I had taken advantage of her vulnerability which labelled me clearly as a scumbag.

"It’s time to leave. Did you pack your bags?" Rachel asked.

"Yes!" Rebecca’s response was immediate and enthusiastic. She had been crying tears of joy after learning her sister had nothing dangerous eventually.

Rachel’s eyebrows rose with concern. "It looks quite heavy. Are you sure you can manage it, Rebecca?"

"I can handle it," Rebecca insisted. "Besides, Ryan said he has a car waiting for us."

"Right," Rachel nodded slowly, her gaze drifting to me once more. Then she reached for her own bag, a sleek black pack that looked military-grade, and slung it over her shoulders with ease.

"Are you ready?" She then asked me.

"I am," I replied, forcing what I hoped was a smile. I grabbed my own bag—lighter than theirs, packed with only the essentials I’d need for survival—and moved toward the door.

I pressed my ear against the door, listening for any sounds of movement in the hallway beyond.

After a moment of careful listening, I slowly opened the door and peered out.

No signs of the infected as expected unless they knew how to open doors.

Rachel and Rebecca followed me out. Rachel clutched her sister’s hand tightly, her eyes darting nervously around.

"The elevator doesn’t work," I whispered. "We’ll have to take the stairs, but I spotted several infected on the stairwell earlier. Stay close and stay quiet."

Both sisters nodded. Rachel’s hand moved instinctively to kitchen knife she had brought as well. Rebecca also had the same knife she used to threaten me.

I approached the stairwell door with careful steps and opened it slightly;

The three infected I had dealt with earlier aren’t here but...

I took the first step down, then another, my knife held ready.

By the time we reached the ground level, we were moving almost by feel alone. It was then that I saw them—the three infected I had encountered before, now lying in a tangled heap at the bottom of the stairwell.

Their bodies were twisted at unnatural angles, bones clearly broken from their fall down the concrete steps. But they were still alive. Their eyes tracked our movement with hungry intensity, and low growls rumbled from their throats.

One of them—a woman in what had once been a business suit—began dragging herself up the stairs using only her arms. Her legs trailed uselessly behind her.

Rebecca let out a sharp intake of breath and stumbled backward into her sister. "Oh God," she whispered.

Rachel’s face had gone pale, but she maintained her composure. I could see her calculating our options. Fight or flee? The narrow stairwell offered little room for maneuvering, and the infected woman was already halfway up the steps.

Without hesitation, I moved forward. The first infected—a middle-aged man with a torn throat—reached for my ankle with grasping fingers. I brought my knife down hard, the blade penetrating his skull with a wet crunch. He went still immediately.

The second one, a teenager whose face was half-eaten away, tried to bite my leg as I stepped over the first body. My blade found its mark again, sliding between his eyes and into his brain.

The woman on the stairs had nearly reached us, her fingernails leaving bloody scratches on the concrete as she pulled herself forward. For a moment, I hesitated. Even transformed, she retained some semblance of her former humanity. But mercy was a luxury we couldn’t afford.

I ended her suffering quickly.

"How... how are you so calm about this?" Rebecca’s voice shook as she stared at the bodies, her face green with nausea.

I wiped the blood from my blade on the cloths of the dead infected. "Somehow."

The truth was more complicated than that, but some explanations were better left unspoken.

I moved to the door that led to the ground floor lobby, pressing my ear against it once more. The sound of shuffling feet and low moans drifted through the thin wood. At least four, maybe five infected wandering the main hall.

"What is it?" Rachel asked, noticing my hesitation.

I closed my eyes. There was no choice but to use my ability again.

My fingers found the hourglass tattoo on my hand, and I pressed it gently. The world around me froze instantly—Rachel’s concerned expression locked in place, Rebecca’s fearful eyes unblinking.

In this stolen moment between seconds, I opened the door and stepped into the lobby. Four infected stood scattered across the space—a security guard, two office workers, and a child who couldn’t have been more than eight years old. They were frozen like statues, their mouths open in silent snarls.

I moved quickly, my blade finding its mark in each of their skulls. The security guard first, then the two office workers. When I reached the child, I paused. Even transformed, she looked so young, so innocent. But I knew what she had become, what she would do to Rachel and Rebecca if given the chance.

I closed my eyes and ended her suffering.

The effort of stopping time left me drained, sweat beading on my forehead as I returned to the stairwell. I touched the tattoo again, and time resumed its normal flow.

"Nothing," I said, though my voice came out more tired than I intended. "The way is clear."

I opened the door, revealing the lobby with its four fresh corpses scattered across the floor.

"Wow," Rebecca breathed, her eyes wide with shock. "I wonder who did that...is that you when you came?" She asked me.

"No, I took the elevator from the underground floor," I replied shortly.

But Rachel said nothing, but I caught the way her gaze lingered on me, then on the bodies, then back to me again.

She’s starting to piece it together or am I just overthinking?

I pushed the thought aside and led them across the lobby to another door—this one leading to the stairwell that would take us down to the underground parking garage.

The parking garage was a gamble. If Sydney had was patient, she would be waiting there with a vehicle. If not... well, we’d cross that bridge when we came to it.

An hour had passed since I’d last spoken with her. I could only hope she hadn’t given up on me.

Maybe I was expecting too much from her.

Nearly an entire hour had passed since I’d last spoken to Sydney. In that time, anything could have happened. The infected could have found her. Other survivors could have taken the car. Hell, she might have simply decided that waiting for a stranger she barely knew wasn’t worth the risk.

She might as well have left, thinking I got myself eaten by the infected up there.

The logical part of my brain understood completely. In Sydney’s position, I might have done the same thing. Wait for a reasonable amount of time, then cut your losses and move on. Sentiment was a luxury that could get you killed in this world.

We rounded a corner between two concrete support pillars, and that’s when I saw it.

Can’t believe it.

The car was still there.

"Is that...?" Rebecca started to ask, but I was already moving.

I rushed toward the red car, my footsteps quickening to an almost-run. Once reaching it I pressed my face against the driver’s side window, peering through the slightly tinted glass.

Sydney was sleeping.

And not just sleeping—she had reclined the driver’s seat all the way back into what looked like the most comfortable sleeping position imaginable. Her legs were propped up on the dashboard, crossed at the ankles. Her dark hair had fallen across her face, and she was breathing deeply and evenly, completely oblivious to our approach.

A small smile tugged at the corner of my mouth despite everything.

Thank the Gods she was a weirdo who didn’t seem to really take seriously the apocalypse going on around us.

Rachel and Rebecca caught up to me, both of them staring at the sleeping figure in the car with expressions of bewilderment.

"She’s... sleeping?" Rebecca whispered, as if she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing.

"Apparently," Rachel replied, though her tone suggested she was equally baffled.