The tram tunnel stretched endlessly, its curved ceiling dripping with moisture that tapped rhythmically onto the rusted rails. The sound echoed like distant footsteps—too human, too close. Damon held the lantern higher, its glow revealing thick dust hanging in the air like suspended ash.
Shadow padded ahead, nose low, tail stiff. Ember stayed beside Lira, occasionally brushing her leg as if reassuring her.
“This tunnel wasn’t this quiet last ti,” Lira whispered. Her voice bounced along the tal walls, returning as a warped imitation of itself.
Damon slowed. “Nothing’s quiet without reason.”
A faint draft brushed past them—cold, unnatural. Damon frowned. “There’s an opening ahead. Maybe a collapse.”
Lira’s fingers curled tighter around the knife. “Or sothing got in.”
They moved cautiously, steps careful over cracked concrete. The lantern’s beam flickered, struggling to cut through the thickening dark. Sowhere behind them, a distant chorus of groans seeped into the tunnel, muffled but unmistakable.
“They’re following,” Lira said.
“They won’t catch us down here,” Damon replied, though his tight jaw betrayed his uncertainty.
At the bend ahead, the tunnel widened into an abandoned maintenance chamber. Broken generators lay toppled like skeletal remains of old machinery. Wires dangled from above like vines. And in the center of the room—
Footprints.
Human. Fresh. Dust disturbed in chaotic circles, as if soone fought to stay alive.
Lira crouched. “There was soone here. Recently.”
Damon studied the scuff marks. “Dragged. Look at the heel lines.”
Ember let out a low, haunted growl.
Shadow moved closer to a dark stain on the floor—thick, dried, and a deep brownish red.
“That’s blood,” Lira whispered.
“But not... old enough,” Damon muttered. “Soone’s injured. Or worse.”
A tallic clang jolted them—it ca from the shadows beyond the room, from a maintenance shaft half-collapsed under debris.
Shadow’s ears perked sharply. Ember’s body stiffened.
Damon motioned for silence.
Then—another sound.
Not a groan. Not a shuffle.
A whimper.
Human.
“Soone’s alive,” Lira breathed.
Damon shook his head. “We can’t rush in. Could be a trap. Zombies mimic sounds now.”
Lira swallowed hard. “Then we move carefully.”
They approached the collapsed shaft. Damon angled the lantern inside, revealing a narrow crawlspace. Dust swirled. Pipes rattled softly.
Then a voice—weak, trembling.
“Please... don’t leave ...”
A young girl, no older than twelve, huddled between fallen beams. One leg pinned. Her face streaked with gri and fear.
Lira gasped. “Damon, we have to help her—”
A new sound erupted behind them—shuffling, scraping, louder than before. The dead had entered the tunnel. The moans reverberated through the chamber, multiplying in dreadful harmony.
“They’re close,” Damon said. “We don’t have long.”
The girl sobbed. “Don’t let them get ...”
Lira rushed to her side, bracing the beam. “We’re not leaving you.”
Damon scanned the darkness, grip tightening on his weapon. “Lira, hurry.”
Shadow and Ember took their positions—one facing the tunnel, one by the girl, growling in warning.
The hungry chorus drew nearer. Their silhouettes flickered in the far black of the tunnel like crawling shadows.
Lira strained. “I can’t lift it alone!”
Damon dropped the lantern and moved to help.
The dead were coming.
The child was trapped.
And ti, already scarce, was running out.
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