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The van shook like it wanted to tear itself apart. Metal walls. No windows. A thin strip of light leaked in from the front door seam, but it wasn't enough to see far. Noah hit the lock again with his shoulder, and the steel didn't even flex. Mara slid on the floor beside him, one hand pressed hard to her ribs, her jaw clenched so tight it looked painful."Tell me Owen isn't in here," she said."He's not," Noah said. "Second van. They moved him.""So this is the bait," Mara muttered. "And we're the prize."Noah listened. Engine noise. Tires on broken asphalt. And voices in the front cabin, muffled by a solid wall. He leaned in, found a small mesh window the size of his palm. He could see the back of a driver's helmet, nothing else. There was no handle, no latch, no way through.A camera lens stared back at him from the ceiling corner.Noah lifted his pistol and froze. If he shot it, it would be loud. Loud meant zombies. Loud also meant the Authority would know he was awake and armed. He lowered the gun and reached up with his knife instead. The lens was tough plastic. He stabbed around the edge, twisted, and ripped it free.A thin beep answered him.Not a siren. Just a small warning chirp, like a device telling someone, somewhere, that the feed went dark.Mara stared at him. "That was smart.""It's a clock," Noah said.He turned and scanned the cargo space. Two benches bolted to the floor. A stack of sealed crates with black tape. A medical bag with the Authority's clean white label. And something strapped down near the rear doors that made his skin crawl.A person-shaped bundle. Writhing.Noah stepped closer. The straps weren't for cargo. They were for restraint. A fresh infected lay on a tilted stretcher, its mouth locked in a thick bite guard, its eyes wide and wet like an animal's. It jerked hard enough that the buckles clacked. Spit leaked around the guard. Its fingers clawed at the air, seeking flesh it couldn't reach.Mara sucked in a sharp breath. "They put that in here with us.""They didn't plan on us being in here," Noah said, but his voice didn't fully believe it.The infected slammed its head sideways. The skull hit the stretcher frame with a hollow thud. The straps pulled tight. One of them looked frayed, like it had already been chewed or cut.Noah felt the old math rise in him. Kill it now or risk it later. If it got loose while the van was moving, it would be a death box. He also knew what was inside its head, even if he couldn't see it. A crystal. A chance. A price.Mara saw his eyes and didn't like what she saw. "No. Not now.""If it breaks free, it won't ask permission," Noah said.The van hit a pothole and bounced. The stretcher buckles squealed. The frayed strap snapped.The infected rolled off the tilt, half-hanging, one arm free.Noah moved before his thoughts could finish. He grabbed the medical bag and yanked it aside, then ripped a metal bar from under the bench. It was a tire iron, heavy and greasy. He swung it down as the infected lunged, the bite guard scraping the air.The bar hit shoulder, not skull. Bone cracked, but the thing didn't care. It slammed into him, weight and teeth and rage. Noah stumbled back into a crate. Tape tore. A hard plastic case fell out and hit the floor, popping open to show syringes and sealed vials.Mara crawled away, dragging her bad side, eyes locked on the infected like it was a bomb.Noah shoved the bar into the infected's throat to keep the guard off him. It thrashed, and its head whipped close. He saw skin torn at the hairline, like something inside had pushed out and the body had tried to fight it. He thought of the crystal, trapped behind bone.He slammed the tire iron into the side of its head.Once. Twice.The sound was deep and wrong, like hitting wet wood. The skull didn't shatter at first. It held, stubborn, even on a fresh one. Noah's arms screamed. His palms slipped with blood that wasn't his.It snapped on the third hit. The infected sagged. The guard went slack. The body still twitched, but the hunger light went out.Noah didn't stop. He couldn't. He drove the bar down again to open the fracture wider, because the chain had rules, and the rules didn't care about disgust. He forced the bone apart with the bar tip, then reached in with two fingers.Warm mush. Slippery fragments.Then something hard, like a pebble made of ice.He yanked the crystal free.For one second, the van was quiet except for the road. Noah's breath came sharp and hot. His hands shook. He felt Mara staring at him, not as a medic, but as a judge.He should have pocketed it and waited. He didn't.He crushed it between his teeth.The crystal melted into heat and metal taste. It burned down his throat, and his body answered like it had been waiting for this. Pain hit first, a wave that bent him at the waist. His nose started bleeding again, fast and steady. The world went too bright, too loud. Every tiny rattle in the van became a hammer inside his skull.He heard the driver's voice through the wall like the man was inches away. "Something's wrong. Movement in the back."A second voice, calm and close to a smile, answered through the radio. "Keep rolling. Do not open the rear unless ordered."Elena.Noah blinked hard. The floor swam. He grabbed the bench to stay upright. His skin prickled like needles were buried under it. For a moment, he saw a white sticker on the medical bag, letters sharp and clean.HARROW INTAKE UNIT.The name punched into his head, and the crystal's heat made it stick. Not fog. Not a dream. A label. A person. A place.Mara's voice came from far away. "Noah. Noah, look at me."He forced his eyes to her. Her face was pale, but steady. Angry, but focused."You're bleeding," she said."I know," Noah said, and he didn't like how flat it sounded.The van slowed.Noah's hearing caught the outside world now. Tires splashing through puddles. A distant gunshot. Screams that weren't human. A wave of moaning hunger swelling like a tide.They weren't alone on the road.Then the van stopped hard enough to throw them forward.The front cabin door clicked. Locks shifted. Noah felt his pulse jump, fast and mean. His hands wanted violence. His mouth tasted copper.Mara's hand slid to the pistol on the floor near her knee. "If they open that door—""They will," Noah said. "And they want my head intact."He grabbed the dead infected by the ankle and dragged it to the rear doors. The body left a dark smear. He shoved it upright like a grotesque welcome sign, then crouched behind a crate, tire iron ready.A thin hiss came from the ceiling vent. A sweet chemical smell slipped into the air.Gas.Mara's eyes widened. "Noah—"He didn't let her finish. He tore open one of the vials that had fallen out, desperate for anything. The label read SALINE, useless. Another said SEDATIVE, and his stomach turned.Then the rear doors unlocked.Light crashed in. A guard in white armor leaned inside, rifle up. His eyes landed on the dead infected, on the blood, on the broken straps."What the hell," the guard muttered.Noah hit him with the tire iron.The guard's helmet took the first strike, not the skull. It rocked him back. Noah stepped in and slammed the bar into the guard's wrist. The rifle dropped. Noah grabbed it and ripped it free with a strength that wasn't normal anymore.A second guard appeared behind the first, raising his weapon.Mara fired first.The shot was clean and close. It punched into armor, and the guard staggered, surprised more than hurt. But the sound echoed down the street, and outside, the moaning swelled into a roar.Noah grabbed the first guard by the vest and yanked him out of the van like a shield. Bullets snapped past. One grazed Noah's shoulder, hot and tearing. He didn't slow. He couldn't. The crystal made pain feel distant, but it also made him reckless.He stumbled out into daylight and saw chaos.The van had stopped beside a crashed sedan that blocked the lane. Beyond it, zombies poured out of an alley, drawn by the gunshot and the engine noise. Authority soldiers formed a half-line, trying to keep them back without wasting ammo. A drone hovered above, camera eye fixed on Noah the moment he stepped out.Elena's voice cut through the guard's radio. "Do not damage his head. Dr. Harrow wants him talking. The second transport is two minutes ahead. Keep the bait moving."Noah's jaw clenched.Owen was close. Not here. Ahead.And Harrow was real.He shoved the guard away and ran for the nearest cover, dragging Mara with him when she staggered. Her breathing was sharp now, worse than before. She almost fell, but Noah caught her under the arm and pulled.Behind them, the zombie wave hit the Authority line.Old headshots didn't work like they used to. Noah saw a zombie take a round to the temple and keep coming, skull too thick, neck muscles driving it forward. A soldier panicked and fired again and again. The zombie didn't drop until the fourth shot, and by then it had already bitten someone.The rule was clear. Yesterday's win could be today's death.Noah didn't waste bullets. He grabbed the tire iron again and swung low, smashing knees, taking legs, buying space instead of clean kills. It was ugly, slow, and it worked just long enough.They ducked into a parking garage entrance, slipping through a broken gate as the street turned into a feeding pit.Inside, the air was cooler and smelled like oil and dust. Shadows made the world feel smaller again. Noah kept moving, pulling Mara behind a concrete pillar.Mara doubled over, spitting, one hand at her side. "They… they tagged me," she rasped.Noah stared. "What?"She rolled up her sleeve with shaking fingers. Under her skin, near the inner arm, a tiny bump rose like a bead."Scanner," she said. "When they took me. I felt it. I hoped it was nothing."Noah's throat tightened. Another leash. Another way to vanish people.He didn't ask permission. He pulled out his knife.Mara grabbed his wrist. "Make it fast."He cut. Blood welled. Mara bit down on her own sleeve to keep from screaming. Noah's fingers dug in, slick and shaking, until he pinched something hard and tore it free.A tiny black pellet, smaller than a fingernail.He crushed it under his boot.Mara sagged against the pillar, shaking. "Now we're even," she whispered, and it wasn't a joke.Noah checked his pocket and felt the Authority pass there. A thin beep started, faint but steady, like a heartbeat.He froze.It wasn't a pass. It was a beacon.He had stolen it, and it had stolen him back.Noah pulled it out and saw the tiny light blinking from the edge. He looked up at the garage ceiling as if the drone could see through concrete.Mara followed his stare. "What is it?""Tracking," Noah said. "Riley's gift."A bitter laugh almost escaped him, but it died in his chest. If he kept it, they would find them. If he broke it, they would lose doors, checkpoints, and any chance to chase Owen clean.He snapped it in half.The sound was small, but it felt like burning money. He threw the pieces down a dark stairwell, then listened for the beep. It faded. Maybe the signal would die there. Maybe it would pull the dogs in the wrong direction. Either way, it was a choice, and he would pay for it.Mara wiped blood from her arm, eyes hard. "We need wheels."Noah scanned the garage. Old cars sat dead in rows. Most were stripped. One still had glass in the windows and a clean dashboard. A service cart nearby held a battered toolbox.Noah broke the driver window with the tire iron. The alarm didn't scream. The battery was too dead for that. He ripped the steering column open with raw force, wires snapping like tendons.His hands still trembled from the crystal. His vision pulsed at the edges. And deep in his gut, the craving rose again, stupid and loud.More.More skulls.He swallowed hard and shoved the thought down, because Mara was watching him like she was ready to shoot him if he turned.He twisted wires together.The engine coughed.Then it started.The sound echoed through the garage like a drum.Outside, distant voices shouted. Boots hit pavement. The Authority had not forgotten them.Noah slammed the car into gear. Mara climbed in, clutching her ribs, pistol ready. They shot out of the garage exit, tires squealing onto the broken street.Ahead, down the road, a white transport van cut through traffic like it owned the world. A drone floated above it, guiding it. Another Authority vehicle trailed behind, keeping distance.Noah leaned forward and pushed the gas.They gained fast, but the road was a trap. Wrecks, bodies, debris, and zombies that drifted toward noise like iron to a magnet. Noah swerved hard, clipped a mirror, and kept going. Mara held the dash to stay upright, her face tight with pain.Noah got close enough to see the second van's rear doors.A small, clear window. Wire mesh.And through it, for one heartbeat, he saw Owen's face.Strapped down. Eyes open. Alive.Relief hit Noah like a punch, and it made him sloppy. The car fishtailed. He corrected too late, tires skidding over wet grit.The trailing Authority vehicle pulled alongside.Elena sat in the passenger seat, calm as ever, her gaze locked on Noah through her window. She raised one hand and held a small black remote.Then she pressed it.The rear doors of the transport van popped open.Not wide. Just enough.A metal cage slid out on a rail and slammed onto the road.Inside it, zombies screamed and thrashed, packed tight like meat.The cage latch snapped, and they spilled out in a living wave, right in Noah's path.Noah's eyes widened as the swarm flooded the lane, and his hands jerked the wheel on pure instinct.The car was going too fast to stop.