Zack's POV
The room was quiet, the weight of Lewis Adams' death still lingering in the air. We had done what we could — a poor excuse for a burial, a name spoken in remembrance. But as we turned to leave, Ellie hesitated.
"Wait." Her voice was soft, barely above a whisper. She crouched near where we had found the wallet and reached for something hidden beneath the debris. When she stood, her hands trembled slightly as she held up a worn, creased photograph.
A family picture.
A man — Lewis Adams, judging by the kind eyes and familiar features—stood beside a woman, his arm wrapped protectively around her. Two children, a boy and a girl, grinned at the camera. It was faded, but the warmth of the moment was still there, frozen in time.
No one spoke for a long time.
Ellie swallowed hard, running her thumb over the image. "He had a family. They probably don't even know what happened to him."
I exhaled slowly, my chest tightening. "None of our families do."
The reality of our situation settled heavily around us again. Whoever had known us before—our families, our friends—they were out there, unaware of what had become of us. And we had no way of telling them.
Arya took the photo from Ellie, studying it for a moment before slipping it carefully back into the wallet. "We should keep this."
Mark gave a short nod, his expression unreadable. "It's all that's left of him."
—
The darkness stretched around us, broken only by the dim glow of the only light in the surveillance room. I sat in front of the screens, my back against the chair, keeping watch.
Arya sat beside me, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the monitors. She had volunteered for the watch shift without hesitation, and I found myself grateful for the company.
The night was thick with silence, broken only by the distant hum of the facility's machines. The others had settled into uneasy rest, sprawled out across whatever makeshift bedding they could find. Only Arya and I remained awake, taking the night watch together.
"You're quiet," I said after a while, watching her closely.
She glanced at me. "So are you."
I huffed a small laugh. "Fair enough."
She tilted her head, studying me. "You never really talk about it. About what it was like before all this."
I shrugged, suddenly aware of how heavy the weight in my chest felt. "Not much to talk about.
Long shifts. Sleepless nights. Losing more patients than I saved."
Arya didn't look away. "That's not true, is it?"
I swallowed. "No."
I sighed and sat back down, leaning against the cold wall. "I loved it. Being a doctor. Even when it was exhausting. Even when it broke me a little every day. Because sometimes, I got to make a difference. And that made everything worth it."
Arya's expression softened, the usual sharpness in her gaze giving way to something more vulnerable. "You miss it."
"Every damn day."
Silence stretched between us. Then, after a moment, she shifted slightly. "I get it. Missing something you can never have back."
Arya glanced at me, sensing something deeper beneath my words. "You miss your old life?"
I hesitated, then gave a half-smile, one that didn't quite reach my eyes. "Yeah, I was a doctor," I exhaled slowly, leaning against the chair. "Before all this, I spent my days in the ER, patching people up, trying to save lives. Northwood Medical Center — it was my second home. I thought that if I worked hard enough, if I kept going, I could make a difference. But... some people you just can't save."
My voice carried an edge of regret, a quiet pain that Arya might have understood all too well. It seemed like she wanted to say something, to reassure me, but maybe, words felt inadequate. Instead, she placed a hand on my arm, a simple gesture of understanding.
"You're still saving lives," she said softly.
I exhaled, letting the moment settle between us. "And you? Before all this?"
Arya hesitated. I notice the small things, the way she sometimes understood more than she should.
"I was... an engineer," she said carefully. "I worked with machines, studied systems, tried to figure out how things worked. I guess some of that still applies here."
I narrowed my eyes slightly but didn't press. Instead, I nodded. "That makes sense. You're always two steps ahead of the rest of us."
For a brief second, something flickered in her expression—a hesitation. Then, just as quickly, it was gone. "I've just been paying attention."
I could tell she was hiding something, but I didn't push. Instead, I offered something of my own.
"My dad was a doctor, too. I followed in his footsteps. I wanted to make a difference. Save lives."
"What are you two whispering about?" Ambrose strolled over, hands in his pockets, his usual smirk in place. "Plotting an escape?"
Arya rolled her eyes. "Just talking."
He settled beside her, far too close for my liking. "Must be a good conversation if Zack looks so serious."
I clenched my jaw but didn't respond. Arya didn't seem bothered, though she didn't exactly encourage him either. Still, the ease with which Ambrose inserted himself into the moment made something uneasy coil in my stomach.
Then, Ambrose did something unexpected. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, neatly wrapped protein bar. Without a word, he handed it to Arya. "You should eat. You're running on fumes."
She blinked, caught off guard. "I'm fine."
"Sure, but I bet you haven't eaten since earlier," Ambrose countered, his tone unusually gentle. "No point in keeping watch if you pass out."
I frowned. Since when was he so considerate?
Arya hesitated, but eventually took it. "Thanks."
Something in my chest tightened as she unwrapped the bar, taking a small bite. Ambrose watched her with a faint smile, clearly pleased with himself. I hated how easily he got under my skin.
"You should sleep, Arya," I said, my voice coming out sharper than intended. "I'll take the rest of the watch."
She tilted her head slightly, as if considering arguing, but then nodded. "Wake me if anything happens."
As she walked off, Ambrose shot me a knowing grin. "You like her."
I tensed. "Shut up."