Jason crouched behind a concrete barrier, his eyes fixed on the Ascension Lab complex ahead. The facility stood like a fortress—tall concrete walls topped with rusted barbed wire, the structure behind them barely visible from his position. Months of abandonment had allowed nature to begin its slow reclamation; vines crawled up the walls, and weeds pushed through cracks in the perimeter road.
But something was wrong. The massive metal gate—designed to seal automatically during emergency protocols—stood wide open.
"Looks like someone broke in" Nia's voice echoed in his mind. "Gate appears to have been forced open through mechanical means."
Jason edged closer, staying low as he approached the entrance. Two pickup trucks were parked just inside the gate, their engines still ticking as they cooled. The lead vehicle's front end was crumpled and scratched—they'd rammed their way in.
"Subtle," Jason muttered.
"Doesn't seem like it's been long. Your timing could be either very lucky... or very unlucky," Nia commented.
Jason slipped through the open gate, hugging the wall as he moved. Ahead, he could see a group gathered near the main entrance of the facility. He counted quickly—thirteen people, a mix of men and women, all armed with a hodgepodge of weapons. Their gear was a chaotic blend of civilian and military: hunting vests paired with tactical boots, faded camo jackets over jeans. Some wore makeshift armor cobbled together from sports equipment.
Jason ducked behind a thick cluster of overgrown bushes about forty yards from the entrance. Close enough to observe, but far enough to remain undetected.
A burly man with a shaved head paced in front of the sealed entrance, barking orders at the others. His voice carried across the empty courtyard—deep, commanding, and edged with impatience. Beside him stood a wiry woman with sharp features and watchful eyes, surveying the group with a look of controlled irritation.
Two men knelt by the entrance, arguing over what appeared to be a crude explosive device.
"We don't get the angle right, it'll blow back and take someone's head off," the woman said, her voice tense with exasperation.
The bald man turned to her with a scowl. "We're not engineers, Calla. We've got duct tape, fertilizer, and hope. Now shut up and set it."
Jason watched as the group continued their preparations. Their conversation drifted across the courtyard in fragments—mentions of supplies, weapons, and drugs. They were clearly here to loot, with no understanding of what the facility actually contained.
"These people have no idea what they're walking into," Jason thought.
He retreated deeper into the bushes, keeping his movements slow and deliberate. "Nia, thoughts?" he whispered.
"Undisciplined. Moderate threat," Nia analyzed. "Leader exerts hard-line control. Group motivation appears opportunistic, not ideological. Their weapons are functional but poorly maintained. Estimated combat effectiveness: 60% below trained military standards."
Jason considered his options. "Risky, but I need intel. We keep walking blind."
"I wouldn't recommend bluffing your way in… it's too risky" Nia cautioned. "But if you're set on it, act casual. Be confident. They'll respond to someone who doesn't flinch. I'll keep an eye on how they react"
"Once we're inside, can you access the internal systems?" Jason asked.
"Absolutely. I'll need a direct connection, but once I'm in, I can take over the security and bring the turrets online. Just give me about a minute"
Jason nodded. "Good. Once they're all inside, light them up when I give the signal. They'll probably want to use me first and then get rid of me. If so, I'll return the favor."
"Copy that. Also, take a breath, Jason. Your heart rate's spiking. You need to look calm"
Jason took Nia's advice, breathing deeply to center himself. He stashed his pack and extra weapons under debris near the gate, careful to keep them concealed but accessible. He kept his rifle slung across his back—a gesture of relative surrender while maintaining a visible threat level.
With one final breath, he stepped out from behind the bushes and walked toward the group with deliberate confidence. His posture was relaxed but alert, the stance of someone who had survived long enough to know the rules.
"Don't shoot—I ain't here to steal your thunder," he called out when he was about fifty feet away. "Just looking for meds."
The reaction was immediate. Weapons swung in his direction, voices shouted warnings, and the leader stepped forward with his hand raised to halt his group's itchy trigger fingers.
Jason kept his hands visible, palms out. "I caught something nasty. AIDS. Picked it up from a fucking whore. Figured a locked-up place like this might have the meds."
A ripple of laughter spread through the group, especially as a few took involuntary steps back.
"Relax," Jason said with a grin. "Ain't like it's airborne. Unless one of you plans to make out with me, we're golden."
The bald leader studied him with narrowed eyes. "You're a damn freak—but a funny one. Where you from?"
"Out east," Jason replied with casual vagueness. "Used to run with a crew 'til they booted me for 'excessive force.' Their loss."
The woman—Calla—gave him an appraising look. "We get your type. You pull your weight, nobody cares where you've been."
The leader lowered his weapon slightly, though his eyes remained suspicious. "You got a name, stranger?"
"Jason."
"I'm Calla," the woman offered.
"And I'm the guy deciding if you're useful or dead," the bald man said. "Reese."
"Leader and second-in-command identified," Nia noted in his mind. "Let's make yourself useful fast. They're halfway convinced."
Jason took a step closer, keeping his body language open. "Look, I've been tracking this place for days. Saw you guys roll up and figured I'd see if we could help each other out. Strength in numbers and all that shit."
Reese exchanged a glance with Calla. "What makes you think we need help?"
Jason shrugged. "That door ain't opening with just a pretty smile. I've cracked a few places like this. Might save you some time."
He moved among them, offering a crude joke here, a casual observation there. He kept his comments rough and darkly humorous, matching their energy while carefully planting questions between his remarks. Jason had learned early that survival often depended on blending in, becoming the person others expected to see. With these scavengers, he adopted their coarse language and cynical outlook, laughing at the right moments and keeping his body language loose but alert. All the while, he was cataloging faces, weapons, and the subtle hierarchies that formed even in groups like this—watching who deferred to whom, who carried the best gear, who seemed most likely to cause trouble.
"Checked a bunch of pharmacies on the way," Jason mentioned as they discussed their plan. "All cleaned out. One of them even had a trap on the door—nearly took my fucking head off."
Reese's face split into a grin. "That was us. Set it for another crew that's been tailing us." He laughed. "Looks like we almost caught a small fish by mistake."
Jason felt a surge of fury rise in his chest. These were the people who had rigged the pharmacy that had nearly killed him. He bit the inside of his cheek hard enough to taste blood, forcing his expression to remain neutral.
"Easy, Jason," Nia said gently. "I know you're angry. Don't blow your cover. Just keep collecting information."
Jason swallowed his rage and forced a laugh. "No shit? Well, good work. Nearly got me. Would've been a waste of a trap though—I ain't carrying much worth taking."
"So what's the play after this?" Jason asked, gesturing toward the facility. "You lot got a home base or just roam and raid?"
Calla brushed him off with a wave of her hand. "First we loot the lab. Then we talk shop."
"They're wary, but listening" Nia analyzed. "Give them something concrete. Make yourself more valuable."
Jason leaned against the wall, affecting casual knowledge. "My dad used to work here as a janitor before the collapse. Said it was some kind of virus and infectious disease lab. That's probably why the lockdown kicked in. Figured if there's any meds still sealed up, they'd be here."
The group fell silent, exchanging uneasy glances.
"Viruses?" Calla asked, her voice tinged with new wariness. "So we're cracking open a diseased tomb?"
Reese's eyes lit up with renewed interest. "If there's meds inside, it's worth the risk." He turned to Jason. "You said your old man worked here? Can you open it?"
"Should be able to," Jason said with practiced nonchalance. "Used to come with him sometimes. Let me try."
The group parted to let him approach the entry panel. Jason made a show of examining it, pretending to recall something from memory. Secretly, he slipped Richard's access card from a hidden pocket and ran it along the scanner, keeping the motion hidden from the others. He punched in the code Richard had given him, his body blocking the keypad from view.
The display blinked red, then green. The heavy doors unlocked with a quiet hiss.
"Thanks, Dad," Jason murmured under his breath.
"Hot damn," Reese exclaimed, slapping Jason on the back. "This guy's our golden goose!"
Cheers rose from the group as they surged forward, eager to enter the darkened facility. Jason followed behind, letting them push ahead in their excitement. As he crossed the threshold, he felt Nia establishing connection with the facility's systems.
"I'm in. Just a few more seconds and I'll have everything. Security, surveillance, and the turrets—we'll have full control soon." Nia reported.
Jason watched the group spread out into the entrance hall. They had no idea what they'd just walked into—or that the doors would soon seal behind them, trapping them inside with something far more dangerous than any virus.
Himself.