If you want to see how this ends, add the book to your library.
Noah ran on pure habit. His legs still moved, but the dart in his shoulder burned like a nail. The sedative didn't knock him out at once. It dragged him down, slow and heavy, like someone poured wet cement into his blood.A drone buzzed above the street, searching. Noah cut into an alley and slammed into a broken side door. It gave with a crack that sounded too loud, and he felt the whole block listen.Inside was dark and stale. He shut the door with both hands, then almost fell because his left arm went weak. He bit down on a curse and looked at the dart. A tiny red light blinked near the base.He didn't have time to think. He pulled, and the barb caught inside him like a hook. Pain flashed white, and his vision dipped.So he did the ugly thing. He braced his back against the wall, took his knife, and cut around the dart until the skin tore free. Blood ran warm down his ribs, and the sedative made the world tilt.He snapped the dart in half and held the pieces up. The red light kept blinking."Not just a drug," he breathed, and the words sounded far away.He shoved the broken parts into his pocket and moved deeper into the building. The place used to be an office, maybe a small bank. Now it was gutted, with desks overturned and drywall hanging like skin.The drone sound shifted, closer, then away. Noah listened hard, and the crystal heat inside his bones made every noise sharp. He heard rotors. He heard a distant shout. He heard his own heart thumping like a drum.Then he felt it again, that tiny pulse under his skin. The dart had a barb, but it also had something else.Noah found a stairwell and a cracked mirror on the wall. He leaned in and saw a small bump near the cut. A pellet shape. Clean. Smooth. Like it belonged there.His stomach turned. The Authority didn't just want him slowed. They wanted him tagged.He should have run. He should have kept moving while he still could. But if that pellet stayed inside him, he was a walking beacon.So he made another choice he would hate later.He cut deeper.The knife slid, then caught. Noah gritted his teeth so hard his jaw hurt. His fingers shook from the sedative, and the stairwell swayed like a boat.He hooked the pellet with the tip of the blade and pulled, but it wouldn't come free. It was lodged in flesh like a seed."Fine," Noah muttered.He grabbed a strip of cloth from his shirt, wrapped it around the spot, and cut a small chunk out with the pellet inside. It was raw and wrong, and it hurt so much his vision went gray.Then he opened the stairwell window and threw the bloody bundle out into the alley.A second later, the drone above shifted direction fast. It chased the wrong signal.Noah slid down onto the steps, breathing hard. He pressed his palm into the fresh wound, and warm blood pushed between his fingers.That was the cost. Less tracking. More bleeding. Less strength.He forced himself up anyway.A rasping sound echoed in the hallway above. Slow at first, then closer. Noah turned his head, and the sedative made it feel like his neck was made of sandbags.A zombie stepped out of the dark.It was bigger than most. Its skin was torn and gray, and its jaw hung wrong, but its eyes locked onto him like a hunting dog. It didn't sprint. It didn't scream.It just came.Noah raised his pistol with his good arm and fired at the forehead.The shot hit. The zombie's head snapped back.And it kept coming.Noah's breath caught. The skull didn't crack like it should. The bullet had bitten, but not deep enough.Yesterday's answer was dead.The zombie lunged, faster than its size should allow. Noah stumbled back, almost tripped, and felt the sedative drag his feet.He swung the pistol like a hammer and smashed the side of its face. It staggered, but it didn't fall.So Noah changed tactics on the spot. He grabbed a metal pipe from the stairwell corner and shoved it into the zombie's mouth as it snapped at him. He used the pipe like a lever, forcing the jaw open, then drove the end up under the cheekbone.Bone gave with a wet crack. The zombie spasmed, hands clawing at his coat, but Noah kept pushing until it went still.He didn't celebrate. He couldn't.He dropped to one knee, breathing through his teeth, and stared at the corpse. If he left it, he stayed weak and slow. If he harvested, he made noise and time.But the world didn't care what he wanted.Noah lifted the pipe and brought it down on the skull. Once. Twice. The third hit split the bone enough to pry open.The smell was bad. Hot and rotten.He dug in with shaking fingers and found the crystal. It was dark, wet, and small, like a tooth made of glass.The moment it touched his palm, he heard footsteps below.Human ones.Voices rose in the lobby, close and excited. "You hear that?" a man said. "Upstairs."Noah's blood slicked his grip. He looked at the crystal and felt the pull, sharp and hungry.He could run with it and risk losing it. Or he could take it now and risk losing himself.He swallowed.The crystal hit his throat like fire. Pain slammed through his spine, and his body bucked hard enough to slam his shoulder into the wall. His stomach heaved, and his nose started bleeding at once.Then the world snapped into cruel detail.He heard the men downstairs whispering. He heard their shoes on tile. He heard the drone outside fade as it followed the thrown tag.He also heard something worse.More zombies, drawn by the gunshot and the skull crack, shuffling in from the street.Noah's hands trembled, and his vision sharpened too much, like someone turned the lights up inside his skull. He blinked fast, trying to keep his mind steady.A hunger rose in him. Not for food. For more of that burn.He gripped the stair rail until his knuckles went white. "Not now," he told himself. "Move."He moved.He took the stairs two at a time, even with the sedative still dragging at the edges. His legs obeyed faster than they should. His lungs burned, but he didn't slow.That was the gain.The cost was the shake in his hands, the blood in his nose, and the blank slip that hit him for one full breath where he forgot where he was.It came back in a snap when he pushed into a security office near the top floor.A monitor on the desk was still on, running on a backup battery. The screen showed a street corner. A checkpoint. Floodlights and cages.Noah froze.He recognized the white van. INTAKE was painted on the side. Under it, in block letters, HEAD INTACT.Two guards dragged a man toward the open doors. Owen. His face was gray, his mouth open like he couldn't get air.Mara was there too. Her hands were up, but she was fighting the pull, trying to stay close to Owen. A guard shoved her shoulder hard, and she stumbled but didn't fall.Elena stood a step back, calm as a knife. She watched the guards, then watched the crowd, like she was counting angles.And Riley was there.She wore an Authority pass tag like a prize. She leaned in close to an officer and pointed down the street, talking fast.Noah's stomach went cold. His first thought was simple and ugly.She's selling them too.On the desk beside the monitor sat a paper form with a plastic cover. Noah snatched it up and read the bold line at the top.CROSS, DANIEL — CAPTURE PRIORITYBelow it, another line in smaller print.SEDATIVE TAG APPLIED — DO NOT DAMAGE HEAD — DELIVERY REQUIREDNoah's throat tightened.Head intact. Always head intact.Whatever "processing" was, it needed his brain whole.His fingers twitched, and for a second the crystal hunger tried to twist that fear into anger. He could almost feel himself stepping into the open, firing shots, burning the whole checkpoint down.He didn't. He couldn't.Not like this. Not alone. Not bleeding out.A loud bang echoed from downstairs. Someone kicked a door."You up there!" a voice shouted. "We know someone's here!"The scavengers had followed him in.Noah put the paper down and slid behind the desk. He kept his pistol low and listened. Three men, maybe four. They weren't Authority. Their steps were loose. Hungry.One of them laughed. "Smells like blood. Jackpot."Noah's jaw clenched. If they found him, they would take the gun, take the bag, take the crystal if they guessed. And if they hurt him, the zombies outside would finish the job.He waited until the first man stepped into the doorway. The man held a crowbar and a cheap flashlight. His eyes widened when he saw Noah.Noah didn't fire at the head. He fired at the knee.The man dropped with a scream, and the scream punched through the building like a siren.The others cursed and rushed in. Noah grabbed the fallen man by the collar and yanked him sideways, using him as cover. A bullet snapped into the wall behind the desk, and plaster dust sprayed Noah's face.He pushed through the back door and ran into the hall.The whole building woke up. Zombies moaned from below, drawn by the scream and the shots. More voices yelled as scavengers tried to pull their wounded man back.Noah didn't look back.He hit the roof access stairwell and climbed, breath tearing in his throat. His arm throbbed where he'd cut out the tag. Blood dripped down to his wrist.Halfway up, his body tried to betray him. The sedative pulled at his eyelids, heavy again. The crystal fought it, sharp and bright.It felt like two hands pulling his brain apart.He reached the roof door and slammed his shoulder into it. It burst open, and cold air hit his face like a slap.Noah stepped out onto gravel and broken tar. The city spread around him in gray blocks and smoke.Down on the street, the checkpoint lights cut through the dark. He could see the INTAKE van clear as day.Owen was at the doors now. His feet dragged. Mara was forced after him, jaw tight, eyes blazing even as blood streaked her temple.Elena turned her head slightly, and Noah saw her look at the rooftops. Not at him. Just at the idea of someone watching.Then Riley looked up.She found him fast, like she already knew where he'd run.She raised one hand and pointed straight at the roof.The nearest drone swung back toward the building.Noah's chest went tight. He scanned the roof for a way out. A ladder down the other side was snapped. The fire escape was gone.There was only one option left.The next building was close, but not close enough for a normal jump. Not with blood loss. Not with sedative.Noah walked to the edge anyway. He judged the gap. He felt the crystal burn in his gut, begging for motion.Behind him, the roof door rattled.Metal clanged. A lock broke.Noah turned, pistol rising.The door flew open, and a guard stepped out in Authority armor with a rifle held low.The muzzle aimed at Noah's chest, not his head."Daniel Cross," the guard said, voice calm through a mask. "Hands where I can see them."On the street below, Mara's head snapped up as if she heard her name in the wind.Noah looked at the guard. Then he looked at the gap.He bent his knees.And jumped.