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The Burning 36
“We’re not joining you, Luther,” Ben said finally, his voice calm but firm. “We’ll never be like you.” Luther’s expression darkened for a moment, his smile slipping just enough to reveal the cold fury lurking beneath. But then he laughed—a low, menacing sound that sent a shiver down my spine. “Suit yourselves,” he said, stepping back. “I’ll let you go. But don’t think for a second that you’ll survive out there for long. The world is changing, and it’s getting meaner every day. You can run, you can fight, but eventually, you’ll realize that you need people like me. People who are willing to do whatever it takes.” He leaned in close, his breath hot against my skin. “And when that day comes, I’ll be waiting.” I glared at him, refusing to flinch. “I’d rather die.” Luther’s smile returned, wider than before. “Oh, you will, sweetheart. You will.” He straightened up and nodded to his men. They stepped forward and cut the ropes binding our wrists, yanking us roughly to our feet. M
The Burning 37
The wind whipped across the barren landscape as we made our way north, the horizon a jagged line of mountains barely visible through the dust-choked air. Every step felt heavier than the last, the weight of Luther’s offer pressing down on me like a lead weight in my chest. His words echoed in my mind, gnawing at my thoughts, making me question everything: (You’ll realize that you need people like me. People who are willing to do whatever it takes.) I glanced over at Ben. He was walking in that steady, determined way of his, eyes locked straight ahead, his jaw clenched tight. He hadn’t said much since we left the warehouse, and I could tell he was lost in his own thoughts, just like I was. But I knew what was really bothering him. It wasn’t Luther’s offer—it was that damn dog tag. I still couldn’t believe it. Just as we were leaving, Luther had reached into his coat pocket and tossed something to Ben. I’d seen the way Ben’s face had gone pale when he caught it, the way his ha
The Burning 38
Ben’s eyes snapped up to mine, his brow furrowed in confusion. “What?” I took a deep breath, my heart racing. “What if Luther’s right? What if we can’t survive out here without becoming like him? Doing whatever it takes... no matter the cost?” Ben stared at me, his expression unreadable. For a moment, I thought he was going to snap at me, tell me I was crazy for even suggesting it. But instead, he just sat there, his silence unnerving. “I mean, look at us,” I continued, my words tumbling out in a rush. “We’re barely scraping by. Every day it’s a fight just to stay alive. How many more people are we going to have to kill before we stop feeling anything? Before we become like Luther?” Ben’s jaw clenched again, his eyes narrowing. “We’re not like him.” “Aren’t we?” I shot back, my voice rising. “We’ve killed, Ben. We’ve done things... terrible things. And we tell ourselves it’s for survival, but how is that any different from what Luther does?” Ben stood up suddenly, his fist
The Burning 39
The hospital loomed ahead of us, its skeletal frame barely visible through the swirling dust in the air. The setting sun cast an eerie orange glow over the crumbling building, making it look like a haunted relic of a world long gone. The windows were shattered, jagged shards of glass still clinging to their frames like broken teeth, and the once-white walls were streaked with grime and rust. Vines had grown up along the sides, snaking through cracks in the concrete as if the earth itself was trying to reclaim the structure. I shivered, pulling my jacket tighter around me. We hadn’t spoken much since we’d set out that morning, both of us lost in our own thoughts. But now, as we stood before the dilapidated hospital, I felt a chill that had nothing to do with the cold wind biting at my skin. “We could keep going,” Ben said, his voice low as he eyed the building warily. “Find somewhere else to camp for the night.” I shook my head, my eyes never leaving the hospital. “No. We’re r
The Burning 40
A file, half buried under a stack of documents, its cover marked with a red stamp that read --CLASSIFIED-. I frowned, pulling it free and brushing off the dust. The file was thick, its pages crinkled and worn, but the moment I opened it, I knew I’d found something important. The first page was filled with technical jargon—words like 'biological enhancement,' 'genetic modification,' and 'experimental trials.' My stomach twisted as I flipped through the pages, my heart racing. The more I read, the more it became clear: this hospital hadn’t just been treating patients. It had been conducting experiments. Secret experiments. And then I found the date. The experiments had started just months before The Burning. My hands trembled as I continued to read, my mind racing. The file detailed a project—something called 'Project Genesis' It was vague, filled with scientific terms I didn’t fully understand, but one thing was clear: they had been experimenting with humans. Trying to enhanc
The Burning 41
The crackle of static was the first sound that broke the silence of the night. I fronze, my hand hovering over the small, battered radio, unsure if it was just another burst of interference. But then, through the distortion, a voice cut through—a voice that sounded so alien to me that I almost couldn’t process what I was hearing. '…repeat, this is New Haven. We are accepting survivors. Safe shelter, food, and medical supplies available. Coordinates… twelve degrees north, forty-one degrees west… anyone who can hear this...' I blinked, my heart stuttering in my chest. Was I dreaming? Was this some kind of cruel trick? I turned the dial, adjusting the frequency, desperate to catch the rest of the message.Deja vu was hitting me like a tone of bricks. '…repeat, this is New Haven. We are accepting survivors. Safe shelter…' The voice faded into static again, but I had heard enough. A settlement. A real, honest-to-god settlement offering safety, supplies, and—most importantly—hope. F
The Burning 42
Midday, we came across the first sign of life we’d seen in days: a small camp of refugees huddled around a makeshift fire. There were about a dozen of them—men, women, and even a couple of kids—looking ragged and worn, their clothes tattered and their faces gaunt with hunger. They looked up as we approached, their eyes filled with a mix of suspicion and desperation. Ben held up a hand in a gesture of peace, and we stopped a few feet away from the group. “We’re just passing through,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “We heard about a settlement called New Haven. Do you know anything about it?” The refugees exchanged uneasy glances, and for a moment, I thought they weren’t going to answer. But then an older man stepped forward, his face lined with age and exhaustion. He looked us up and down with weary eyes before speaking. “We came from New Haven,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Or what’s left of it.” My heart skipped a beat. “What do you mean, ‘what’s left of it’?” The man sig
The Burning 43
The sun was unforgiving. It beat down on us relentlessly, turning the cracked earth beneath our feet into a furnace. Every step felt like wading through sand, slow and exhausting, each breath a struggle as the dry air parched my throat. My injury throbbed with every movement—a sharp, stabbing pain that radiated up my leg and made me grit my teeth to keep from crying out. But I kept going. I had to. We’d been walking for days, the coordinates from the radio transmission our only guide. Ben had argued that we should take a longer route, one that would let us avoid the worst of the wasteland’s dangers, but I had insisted we take the direct path. We didn’t have time to waste. My leg wasn’t going to hold up much longer, and our supplies were almost gone. Every moment we spent out here was another moment closer to death. I glanced over at Sarah, who was trudging along beside me, her expression distant. She was quiet, as she had been for most of the journey. Ever since we’d left the r
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The Burning 65
The air was thick with smoke, the acrid scent of burning wood and flesh choking my lungs as I stumbled through the chaos. Flames licked at the edges of the settlement, casting long shadows over the walls and turning the night into a fevered nightmare. Shouts echoed across the square, the sharp crack of gunfire splitting the air as Captain Laura Wells and her soldiers clashed with Chloe’s forces. I hadn’t seen the attack coming. One moment we were being thrown into one of the holding cells, our hands still bound, and the next, explosions tore through the gates. Chloe’s loyalists scrambled to defend the settlement, but they hadn't been prepared for a full-scale assault. Captain Wells had arrived, just as Ben had said she would, and she wasn’t pulling any punches. "Move, Maya!" Ben shouted, grabbing my arm and pulling me down behind a stack of crates as bullets whizzed overhead. "We need to get to cover!" I was still reeling, my mind struggling to catch up with the violence unfoldin
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I stared at her, my heart pounding in my chest. "Chloe, you can't—" "I can." she cut me off, her voice cold. "And I will. You’re either with me or you’re against me." The silence that followed was deafening. I felt like I was standing at the edge of a cliff, staring down into a void. Chloe had backed me into a corner, forced me to choose between my loyalty to her and my own moral compass. But how could I stand by her side when I knew what she was doing? How could I betray everything I believed in? Before I could respond, Ben stepped forward, his voice steady but urgent. “Wait.” Chloe’s eyes flicked to him, her expression impatient. “What?” Ben shifted slightly, his bound hands clenching behind his back. “There’s something you don’t know.” Chloe raised an eyebrow, her interest piqued. “Oh? And what’s that?” Ben glanced at me, his eyes full of unspoken words. Then he turned back to Chloe. “I’ve been in contact with another group. A military unit. They’ve been tracking you
The Burning 63
The moment Logan lunged, time seemed to slow. His meaty hand reached for me, and instinct kicked in. I dodged to the side, just narrowly avoiding his grasp. Ben and Daniel weren’t so lucky. Logan’s men were on them in seconds, rough hands pinning their arms behind their backs, muffling their protests with swift, brutal efficiency. Samantha’s eyes wouldn’t meet mine as I backed away, my heart hammering in my chest. I could still hear her voice, that soft, apologetic tone she’d used when she betrayed us. I wanted to scream, to demand an explanation, but I knew it was useless. Whatever loyalty she’d once had to the settlement—or to us—was gone, replaced by her blind faith in Chloe. “Maya,” Logan growled, his voice low and menacing, “don’t make this harder than it needs to be. Chloe’s waiting.” I glanced at Ben. His face was set in a grim mask, but his eyes flickered with something else—something I couldn’t quite place. He held my gaze for a moment, then gave the tiniest nod, as
The Burning 62
She’d been a schoolteacher before everything went to hell, and even now, she still had that calming presence, that way of making you feel like things could be okay, even when they weren’t. She was exactly the kind of person we needed on our side—someone people trusted. “Did you find what you were looking for?” she asked, her eyes darting between Ben and me. I nodded, handing her one of the papers. “It’s worse than we thought. Chloe’s been orchestrating everything. The raids, the attacks—it’s all her.” Samantha’s eyes widened as she read the document, her face pale. “We have to stop her.” “That’s the plan,” Ben said, his voice steady. “But we need to be smart about this. Chloe’s got Logan and the rest of her loyalists watching every move. If we mess this up, we’re dead.” Samantha nodded, her expression resolute. “I’ll talk to a few people I trust. Quietly. We’ll need to move fast, though. Word’s already spreading that something’s off.” Daniel appeared in the doorway, his fa
The Burning 61
The moment Chloe’s cold, steely gaze locked on me, I knew I was in deep shit. My pulse pounded in my ears, and I could feel the weight of the papers tucked beneath my jacket, the incriminating evidence I’d found only moments ago. I had seconds to act, seconds to figure out how to explain why I was rifling through her things like some common thief.Damn, should've picked a better time. But there was no use lying. Chloe had always been good at sniffing out deception, especially when it came from me. “Maya,” she said again, her voice low and dangerous, a predator toying with its prey. “What are you doing?” I straightened, clutching the edge of her desk to steady my shaking hands. “Looking for the truth, Chloe. You can’t keep hiding it!” Her eyes narrowed, and for a moment, I thought I saw a flicker of something—guilt? Fear? But it was gone as quickly as it appeared, buried under the ice-cold mask she wore so well. “You’ve been listening to the wrong people,” she said, stepping in
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Daniel looked at me, his eyes full of quiet determination. “Because you’re her sister. And because I don’t think you’re like her. People are starting to lose faith in Chloe, Maya. The settlement’s on the verge of fracturing. If you don’t do something soon…” He didn’t finish the sentence, but he didn’t need to. The thrreat was clear. If Chloe kept pushing, if the people kept living in fear, it would only be a matter of time before everything collapsed. I stood slowly, my mind racing. “I need proof,” I said, my voice wavering. “If I’m going to confront her, I need more than just rumors.” Daniel nodded. “I know. But be careful. Chloe’s not one to take kindly to being challenged. And if she thinks you’re a threat…” He didn’t need to finish that sentence either. I already knew what Chloe was capable of. I returned to the clinic, my head spinning with Daniel’s words. Ben was awake when I walked in, sitting up on his cot, his eyes sharp.. “You were gone a while,” he said, his voice low
The Burning 59
I couldn’t sleep. The weight of everything pressed down on me—Chloe’s cold words echoing in my mind, the tension in the settlement, the gnawing feeling that something deeper was wrong. I tossed and turned on the small cot in the corner of the clinic, listening to the soft rustle of the wind outside. The fires had died down, leaving the night dark and eerily quiet. Too quiet, especially for a place like this. Ben lay a few feet away, his chest rising and falling steadily now that he was mostly recovered. He was still pale, but the strength was coming back to him, slowly but surely. Part of me wanted to wake him up, to talk through everything that was swirling in my head. But I knew his answer already: We needed to leave. But I... I wasn’t ready for that yet. I couldn’t just leave Chloe behind, no matter what she had become. She was still my sister, and some small, stubborn part of me believed I could reach her. That I could help her see what she was doing. But the more I tried to co
The Burning 58
Dr. Shaw glanced around, making sure no one was listening, before leaning in slightly. “We’re out of almost everything vital—antibiotics, painkillers, clean bandages. I’ve been asking Chloe for weeks to send out a team to scavenge for medical supplies, but she refuses. Says the security of the settlement comes first. She’s been hoarding resources for the guards, for the walls. Meanwhile, people in here are dying from infections and wounds that could be treated if we just had the right supplies.” I felt a surge of anger rise in my chest. “That can’t be right. Chloe wouldn’t—” Dr. Shaw gave me a sharp look. “Wouldn’t what? Put her own survival above others? Use people as pawns to keep her control? You’ve seen how she runs this place, Maya. She’s not the girl you remember anymore. whoever she was.“ I bit my lip, my mind racing. I didn’t want to believe it, but deep down, I knew Dr. Shaw was right. Chloe had changed. Drastically. Maybe more than I was willing to admit. “She’s hidi
The Burning 57
Thhe smell of antiseptic and sweat hit me the moment I stepped into the clinic. It wasn’t much more than a hastily erected tent with a few cots and a couple of shelves lined with ragged bandages and half-empty bottles of medication. The moans of the injured filled the air, mixing with the low hum of voices and the occasional clatter of metal. It took me back—back to long nights in the ER, back to the controlled chaos of saving lives on the fly. But this wasn’t the ER. This was New Haven, and we were ALL hanging on by a thread. I forced myself to swallow the knot in my throat and stepped deeper into the tent. One of the settlement’s guards, a young woman no older than twenty, sat on the edge of a cot, clutching her arm. Blood seeped through the makeshift bandage wrapped around her forearm, and her face was pale, her lips trembling. “Hey,” I said gently, kneeling beside her. “Let me take a look at that.” She flinched at first, like she wasn’t used to someone offering help.
