When ti resud, the giant infected collapsed imdiately, its massive body hitting the ground with a final thud that shook the earth beneath our feet. Dark fluid pooled around its ruined head, and the energy patterns that had been pulsing through its skin finally went dark.
Rachel stared at the fallen creature with wide eyes, her expression shifting from relief to sothing much more complex as she processed what had just occurred. When she saw standing there with the defeated infected lying at my feet, she didn’t need to be a genius to understand what had happened. The telltale signs were all there—my sudden movent from a position of mortal danger to one of complete tactical advantage, the precision of the killing blow, the way I’d sohow outmaneuvered a creature that should have been faster than humanly possible to avoid.
"It’s over," I gasped, breathing heavily from the exertion and adrenaline of the fight. I turned toward her and reached out my hand.
"R...Ryan..." Rachel accepted my hand, allowing to help her to her feet while her concerned gaze studied my battered appearance. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, I’m alright," I replied with a tired smile, though I could feel the accumulated damage from this morning settling into my bones. "Just need so rest and maybe a hot al. But we managed to do it, right?"
I began collecting my scattered weapons, retrieving my steel spike from where it had fallen and securing it alongside my hand axe. The shotgun had survived the battle as well, though it would need cleaning before it could be considered fully reliable again.
Rachel nodded, pulling out the frequency recording device from her pack. The display showed successful completion of the data collection, with more than enough information for Mark to develop his counterasures. "We have everything he needs. Three full minutes of high-quality frequency analysis, plus additional data from the biological amplifier system."
"Then let’s get out of here imdiately," I said, scanning the area for signs of additional threats while leading us back toward where we’d hidden the motorcycle. "I can already hear infected responding to all the noise we made. This place is going to be crawling with them within minutes."
We reached our bike quickly and I started the engine, grateful that it responded without complaint despite everything we’d been through. As we drove away from the radio station, I could see infected erging from buildings and side streets, all drawn by the sounds of our battle but arriving too late to interfere with our escape.
"That Screar device," Rachel said, her voice thoughtful as we put distance between ourselves and the Screar. "Why didn’t it release its massive Scream while we were there? I expected it to try to overwhelm us with that devastating sonic attack we’ve heard from a distance."
I had been wondering the sa thing during our escape, and I thought I understood the reasoning behind the alien intelligence’s restraint. "It wanted to keep that ability in reserve because it probably can’t use it again for a significant period afterward. The device didn’t sense a true existential threat from us since we were only recording its transmissions, not trying to destroy it. Using the big scream would have been overkill for our level of threat."
"If it’s keeping that power in reserve, then..." Rachel’s expression grew grim as she processed the implications.
"Yeah, it’s going to use it soon enough on a much larger scale," I confird. "Probably when it’s ready to make its final move against us..."
The true targets however were and another person in the Municipal Office.
"Will Jackson Township even survive sothing like that?" Rachel asked, voicing the question that had been haunting since I first learnt the Screar’s capabilities.
An army of infected flooding the entire community from every direction, coordinated by alien intelligence and enhanced beyond normal paraters—the prospect was genuinely terrifying. I had serious doubts about our chances, but we had to try everything possible to prepare effective defenses.
"We’ll have to make sure it does," I said, though I could hear the uncertainty in my own voice.
"Right," Rachel agreed, but her expression remained troubled.
Wanting to shift the conversation toward sothing more positive, I said, "You were quite amazing back there, by the way. Your barrier work was flawless."
"You think so?" She asked, sounding genuinely surprised by the complint. "I thought I was more of a burden to you than an asset. You’re the one who actually defeated that monster."
"You’re kidding," I replied emphatically. "I would have died fighting that enhanced infected if not for your barriers providing protection at exactly the right monts. Your timing was perfect throughout the entire encounter."
"Aren’t you just comforting with sweet words like you always do with everyone?" Rachel asked, leaning against my back as we rode. "You have a tendency to be overly kind in situations like this."
"What do you an by that?"
"I an the way you speak to everyone," she explained. "Always comforting, always supportive. You’re incredibly kind, but sotis it might be better to tell people the honest truth instead of what they want to hear."
"I haven’t lied to you though," I protested. "I ant every word I said—from the beginning, when I said I was glad you ca with , that you helped against that infected, and even when I ntioned you were a bit heavy..."
"Hey!" Rachel pinched my waist playfully in retaliation for the weight comnt.
The sudden contact startled , and I montarily lost control of the motorcycle. We swayed off the road, heading straight toward a residential area with an array of houses scattered across several acres.
"Hold on tight, Rachel!" I shouted as I fought to regain control.
"Yes!" she replied, gripping more securely.
Had this motorcycle finally decided to give up on us after a month of reliable service? I managed to break through the gate of a large property, dodging the main entrance and walls by inches, but our montum carried us straight toward what appeared to be a backyard swimming pool.
Splash!
We plunged into the cold morning water, the shock of the temperature hitting us imdiately as we went under. I let go of the motorcycle’s handlebars and swam upward, bringing Rachel with as we surfaced together.
"Ah!" I spat out pool water, reaching the edge and pulling myself out with Rachel close behind.
I shook the water from my hair, realizing I was completely drenched. "Sorry about that, Rachel. I lost control for a second there."
"No, that’s my fault," Rachel said, also climbing out of the pool. "I shouldn’t have distracted you while you were driving..."
"The bike just decided to quit a bit earlier than expected," I said with a sigh, then turned toward her and imdiately felt my words die in my throat.
Rachel was entirely soaked, just as I was, but the effect on her appearance was dramatically more noticeable. As she removed her drenched jacket, her white shirt beca clearly visible underneath, and the wet fabric had beco nearly transparent. I could see the outline of her red bra beneath the clinging material, along with the curves of her figure that were normally concealed by more modest clothing.
"The recording equipnt is fine, thankfully," Rachel said, checking her backpack and shaking out the excess water. "I made sure to seal everything properly before we left."
But as she spoke, she beca aware of my gaze and looked down at herself, imdiately understanding why I had gone silent. Her face flushed bright red as she realized how revealing her wet clothing had beco.
"Oh..." She said quietly, instinctively crossing her arms over her chest in an attempt to preserve so modesty.
I quickly averted my gaze, feeling heat creep up my neck as I tried to focus on anything other than Rachel’s current state of undress.
"We should, um, find so dry clothes," I said awkwardly, gesturing toward the house whose pool we’d just crashed into. "Maybe check the upstairs rooms for towels and sothing to change into."
Rachel nodded, still blushing a bit. "That sounds like a good idea. We can’t travel back to Jackson Township looking like this."
We made our way into the abandoned house, which showed signs of hasty evacuation but remained structurally sound and well-appointed. The upstairs bedrooms contained wardrobes full of clothing that looked like it would fit both of us reasonably well.
"I’ll take this room," Rachel said, pointing to a master bedroom at the end of the hallway. "You can use one of the others."
"Good idea," I agreed, choosing a guest bedroom that contained a dresser full of n’s clothing in approximately my size.
I pushed the sodden shirt off my shoulders and felt the cool air press against skin. Towels. I needed towels. The guest room had nothing but a shallow linen closet; the main bathroom between the bedrooms would have what I needed. I moved without thinking, opening the door expecting empty tiles.
Instead, I stopped dead.
Rachel stood at the mirror, towel in both hands, hair a dark, dripping halo around her face. She’d shrugged the wet shirt off and was barefoot on the tiled floor, wearing only a red bra and damp jeans that clung to the slope of her hips.
She turned and froze too, towel half-lowered, eyes widening as she glanced from my bare chest to my face. The water in her hair sent a thin stream down the hollow of her throat and pooled just inside the curve of her bra, a gleam that made my breath stall.
"Eum... you need a towel?" She asked, her voice small, like she was surprised to be the one asking.
"Y...yeah." My answer ca out raw. I stepped forward before I could overthink it.
She opened the shelf and pulled out a thick, folded towel. Her foot slid on a patch of wet tile; she tipped sideways and I snatched her arm without thinking, fingers closing around her wrist. She steadied herself with a startled laugh. "Oh—thanks," she said.
I let my hand fall. She ca closer until the towel brushed my hair, then draped it across my shoulders and began to rub, small circles across the back of my neck. Her palm was warm; the motion was nothing, ordinary, but the contact made my skin glow.
"I hope you don’t catch cold," she muttered.
"Hosts of Dullahan don’t catch colds," I said, trying for lightness. The words sounded clumsy even as I said them. "At least I hope so..."
She chuckled, rubbing my hair with the tips of her fingers. One hand hovered for a mont at her chest, fingers clenching the towel to her sternum, as if to steady herself. Then she looked up and t my eyes.
"Thank you," she said quietly. "For... for putting up with my demands. For keeping alive."
"It’s normal," I said, the answer slipping out like habit. But the look in her green eyes made the habitual feel inadequate.
"It’s not." Her voice trembled just a little. "When we went through that wall—when we fell from the third floor—you took the fall. I thought... I thought you could’ve died. It wasn’t just that mont, either. You keep doing things for , for us. It matters."
I couldn’t spend another second threading around the honesty that had been scratching at like a splinter. "I think I love you, Rachel," I said, the confession tumbling out before I could swallow it back.
Her pupils widened, the green of them deepening. For a heartbeat the towel was forgotten in her hands.
I rushed on, because silence felt too loud. "I—" I swallowed. "I’m also feeling things for others. For Sydney, for Elena, for Cindy. I didn’t an to— I didn’t want to say it because it sounds wrong, trashy maybe, but I can’t deny it. I don’t know how any of that would work. I don’t even know if it’s possible. I’m sorry if that makes a—" Words failed , and the rest of the insult evaporated.
She set the two towels aside like she was moving pieces on a table, then leaned her back against the counter and folded her arms around herself. Her breathing was steadying, but her cheeks were flushed. "I think... we shouldn’t change clothes right now," she said after a mont.
"Why?" I asked, because I didn’t understand.
She hooked an arm across her middle and looked up at , eyes on mine with a vulnerability that was almost fierce. "I need to be stabilized," she said simply. "Can you... help ? Here? Now?"
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