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Noah fell off the roof like dead weight.The wind slapped his face, and the street rushed up fast.He hit a metal awning first, then rolled off it and smashed into the alley floor.Pain ripped through his ribs, but he kept moving because the drone above did not care.He crawled behind a dumpster, breathing blood and dust, and forced his shaking hands to stay quiet.A white light swept the alley mouth, slow and searching, like it could smell him.He pressed his torn side against the cold metal and waited for the beam to pass.When it did, he stood up too fast and almost blacked out.His cut leg reopened, warm and wet, and the trail in his boot told him one thing.He was leaking.
A siren wailed somewhere far, then cut out like someone slammed a door.Noah tilted his head and listened.Engines. Two of them. Heavy.He heard the deep rumble of a van, and the cleaner purr of an escort vehicle behind it.Then he caught voices through a radio, thin and broken, but close."Unit moving. Keep the head clean. No head trauma."Another voice answered, sharp with panic. "If he hits the van—""Then you put him down from the waist. Alive. Doc wants him breathing."Noah's jaw clenched hard enough to hurt.Head intact. Alive. Doc.This was not a normal arrest.
He moved along the alley wall, staying in shadow.The drone light came back, so he ducked under a rusted fire escape and held still.His heart hammered, loud in his ears, but the drone kept scanning the street, not the gaps between buildings.It was hunting like a machine. Fast. Dumb. Relentless.Just like the dead.
At the alley exit, he peeked out.The INTAKE van crossed the intersection ahead, white paint scraped, the rear doors chained shut.A dark SUV followed close, and two men hung out the windows with rifles.The van was not speeding.It did not need to. It owned the road.
Noah could chase on foot for maybe one block, then collapse.He needed wheels.He turned right and spotted a loading dock with a delivery bike half-tipped over.Its front tire was bent.So he kept going and found a small sedan with its driver door open, keys still in the ignition.A dead man lay slumped against the curb beside it, face gray, eyes empty.Noah did not look long.He climbed in, started the engine, and flinched at the loud cough it made.The dashboard lit up like a beacon.A drone light snapped toward him at once.
He slammed the gear into drive and shot forward.The car lurched, tires squealing on broken glass.He took the first corner too hard and nearly rolled, but the steering held.His bleeding leg screamed with every bounce, and his ribs felt cracked, but the car moved.He kept the engine low, cutting through side streets, staying under buildings when he could.The drone followed the sound for two blocks, then lifted away to search wider.He did not win.He only slipped out of sight.
He caught the convoy again near an old bus depot.The van slowed at a clogged street, half blocked by a fallen light pole.The SUV rolled wide to guard the flank.Noah parked behind a wrecked pickup and watched through shattered glass.Two Authority men got out and scanned rooftops.They were not relaxed.They were ready to be jumped.
Noah needed to stop the van without getting pinned.He needed a choke point.He saw one two blocks ahead: a narrow lane between a collapsed storefront and a line of parked cars.One van could pass. Two could not.If he forced them to stop there, he could get to the rear doors.He could get to Mara.He could get to Owen.He could rip the plan apart before they finished it.
He drove ahead using side streets, then ditched the car behind a pharmacy sign.He grabbed a tire iron from the trunk.The weapon felt light in his hand, like his grip was tighter than it should be.That was the crystal talking.Or the blood loss making him stupid.
He found a small hardware shop with its shutters bent inward.Inside, the air smelled like oil and rot.He took a pry bar, a box cutter, and a cheap headlamp.Then he froze because he heard breathing that was not his.
A zombie stood behind the counter, hunched, jaw working like it was chewing nothing.It wore a torn office shirt, and its head tilted toward him like it heard his pulse.Noah stepped back slow.The zombie turned with him, smooth and fast.It did not rush at the sound of his foot.It tracked him.
"No," Noah whispered, and the word tasted wrong.This was new.This was the dead getting better.
He swung the tire iron hard.The metal hit the skull with a dull thud, not the sharp crack he needed.The zombie stumbled but did not drop.It lunged, fingers clawing for his throat.
Noah shoved the pry bar up under its chin and drove it back with his whole body.The zombie snapped at the air, teeth scraping metal.He leaned in and rammed the tire iron again, again, again.On the fourth hit, the skull finally split, but only a little.It was like hitting a helmet.
Noise filled the shop.Glass rattled.Somewhere outside, a second zombie moaned.
Noah grabbed the pry bar and jammed it into the crack.He twisted with both hands until the bone gave way.The top of the head peeled back with wet resistance.His stomach turned, but his hands stayed steady because this was the price of being alive.He dug inside with two fingers and pulled out a crystal slick with dark gore.It was small, cloudy, and warm like a living thing.
He heard footsteps outside.Not one.Several.
He had seconds.He pressed the crystal to his tongue and swallowed before he could talk himself out of it.
Fire ran through his spine.His vision narrowed into a sharp tunnel, then burst open too wide.He heard everything at once: distant engines, dragging feet, a fly buzzing near a corpse, his own blood dripping on tile.His nose bled again, hot and fast.His hands shook so hard the pry bar clattered to the floor.He bit down on a scream and tasted iron.
Then the world snapped into focus.His pain did not vanish, but it became a thing he could step over.His legs felt lighter.His skin felt too tight.He could hear the convoy.He could hear the van's idle.He could hear the radio chatter like it was in the room with him.
"Eyes up," a voice said."Cross is near. He's bleeding."Another voice answered, and Noah's chest went cold.It was Riley."I told you. He won't run far. He'll come for the van."
Noah wiped his mouth with his sleeve and left a dark smear.Riley was here.Not just in the past.Right now.
He slipped out the back of the shop and moved fast, keeping low.Two zombies wandered into the front entrance, drawn by the noise, but they did not chase him.They turned their heads, sniffing, as if deciding which smell mattered more.Noah's blood smell pulled one of them.It started following his trail like a dog.
He cut left and jumped a fence into the narrow lane.The lane was exactly as tight as he hoped.A line of cars boxed it in, and a dead billboard leaned overhead, ready to fall with the wrong push.He grabbed a shopping cart and shoved it into the middle of the lane.Then he dragged a garbage bin behind it.It was not a wall.It was just enough to slow a driver who cared about keeping the van in one piece.
He heard the van coming.He heard the SUV's tires on gravel.He heard boots on pavement, too.They had footmen flanking the sides.
Noah climbed onto the hood of a parked car and waited.His lungs burned.His cut leg throbbed.His new hearing fed him too much, like a radio stuck between channels.Still, he waited.
The van turned into the lane and slowed.The driver saw the cart and bin and hit the brakes.The SUV stopped behind it, blocking the exit.
Noah dropped down behind the rear of the van, silent for two steps, then his boot stuck in a puddle of his own blood.The wet slap sounded huge in his head.
A flashlight snapped toward him.A rifle barrel followed.
"There!" Riley shouted.Her voice was close, right side.She was not in a window.She was on foot.
Noah threw the headlamp beam straight into the guard's eyes.The man cursed and flinched.Noah rushed him and drove the pry bar into his throat.Not deep. Not clean.Just enough to steal his breath.
The guard staggered back, choking.Noah ripped the rifle from his hands and swung it like a club into the man's head.Bone gave, and the body dropped.Noah did not look down.He did not have time for mercy.
He turned and saw Riley.She wore an Authority pass on a lanyard, and her hands held a pistol steady.Her face looked pale under the streetlight.Her eyes were hard, but her jaw was trembling.
"Drop it," she said."Noah, drop it, or they'll put you in a box and cut you open."
"So you brought them to me," Noah said.His voice came out flat.His throat wanted to tighten, but he forced it open."Was that the deal? Your life for my head?"
Riley swallowed."You don't understand."
"I understand enough," Noah said.He took one step closer, rifle up.Behind her, another guard moved to flank him.Noah fired once.The shot was loud as a bomb in the tight lane.The guard fell with a hole in his shoulder, screaming.
The sound pulled zombies from the street.Moans rose, close and angry.The dead were always listening now.
Riley's eyes flicked past Noah, to the growing shadows at the lane entrance.For half a second, she looked scared like a kid.Then she lifted her pistol again.
Noah could shoot her.He could end it.But his mind flashed Mara's face, and Owen's small hands, and the word "Doc" on the radio.If he killed Riley, he would lose a path back into the Authority's moves.He would gain revenge and lose information.That was a debt he could not afford today.
So he did something worse.He lunged at her and slammed the rifle stock into her wrist.The pistol flew and clattered under the van.Riley gasped and stumbled.Noah grabbed her pass and yanked it off her neck.
"Run," he said.His voice was low and brutal."If you stay, you die. If you chase me again, I'll take more than a pass."
Riley stared at him like she wanted to spit in his face.Then she turned and ran, limping toward the SUV.She did not look back.
Noah's stomach twisted.He hated the choice he just made.He also knew he would make it again.
He rushed to the rear doors of the van.Chains wrapped the handles, and a seal strip marked "HEAD INTACT" in red letters.Noah jammed the pry bar into the lock point and pushed.Metal screamed.His arms shook.He pushed harder.
A hiss sounded from above.A drone dropped into view, small and black, its camera eye turning toward him.A speaker crackled on its belly.
"Daniel Cross," it said."Stop. Hands visible. Comply."
Noah's blood went cold.It said his real name.
He ripped the door open anyway.The chain snapped, and the door swung wide.Inside, Mara was on the floor, wrists tied, face bruised, eyes sharp.She looked up and froze.For a second she did not know if he was real.
"Noah?" she whispered.
"Where's Owen?" Noah snapped.His voice came out too loud, too fast.His head was swimming from the crystal and the drone and the blood loss all at once.
Mara's eyes flashed."They split us," she said."They put him in another van."Her voice cracked on the last word, and anger burned through it."They said you'd chase the wrong one."
A trap.A decoy.Of course.
Noah cut her ties with the box cutter.Mara grabbed his arm to steady herself, then flinched at how soaked his sleeve was.
"You're bleeding out," she said.
"Not now," Noah said.He pulled her up, half dragging her toward the door.The lane outside was filling with noise and movement.Authority men were yelling.Zombies were coming from both ends, drawn by the gunshot and the screaming.
Mara looked past him, and her face went tight."Noah," she said."Look."
Noah turned.Elena stood at the front of the van, on the street, calm like she was watching a play.She held a small tablet in one hand.In the other hand, she held a remote switch.Her eyes met Noah's through the narrow space, and she did not blink.
"You always rush the obvious target," Elena said.Her voice was soft, but it carried."And you always forget that people plan around you."
Noah raised the rifle.His hands shook from overload, but the barrel still lined up with her chest.
Elena pressed the switch.
The van doors slammed shut on their own, hard and final.A lock clunked into place.The floor vibrated as the engine roared.Noah staggered and caught himself on a bench.Mara grabbed his shoulder, eyes wide.
The van started moving.Fast.Straight into the noise.
Noah heard the drone outside, keeping pace.He heard Elena's voice over the speaker, clean and close.
"Head intact," she said."Both of them."