Jason sat in silence, listening to the steady whump of helicopter blades slicing through the air. Below, the town sprawled in eerie stillness.
"Found a landing zone!" he shouted over the noise, pointing out the window. "Right there — in the middle of that black field!"
The pilot leaned over, gave a thumbs-up. "Starting descent to the LZ," his voice crackled through the headset.
Jason exhaled and leaned back into his seat. Another small town. More enemies to fight.
The chopper landed with a jolt. Jason slid the door open, nodding back to the pilot as he shut everything down.
"Rotors spinning in two hours," he said. "Comm check every thirty minutes."
Another thumbs-up. Jason hopped out, boots hitting scorched dirt.
He surveyed the scene.
"Jesus... what the hell happened here?" he muttered, pulling out his phone. He dialed the base.
"I'm on-site. Send me the coordinates."
A woman's voice came through, tense and quick. "And? What's it like?"
Jason scoffed. "Ghost town. We flew over some kind of corruption — spreading slow, but eating everything in its path. You knew that already, didn't you?"
The woman didn't miss a beat. "Of course I did. There were five signatures here. An hour ago, two vanished — probably fled. One is dead. One's the target. The enemy. The source of the spread."
She hung up.
"Nice talk," he muttered.
His phone pinged. Two red dots appeared on the map — one deep in the corrupted zone, the other miles away.
He started walking.
The streets were cracked. Abandoned. Silent.
He passed a children's center with a gaping hole in the side and paused.
"What the hell did this?"
Just outside the hole, he found… something. A mangled corpse — no, a thing — too ruined to identify.
He snapped a photo and sent it back.
His phone dinged with a reply seconds later:
"You found the dead one. Strong. Mutated. Could've taken you in a fight."
Jason rolled his eyes — but that last part stuck with him. Stronger than me? Then who killed it?
He moved on, boots crunching through broken glass and scorched leaves.
He passed the ruins of a college. Checked his phone again. He was close — fifteen minutes at most.
As he moved deeper into the town, he noticed something else.
No bodies. No enemies. No signs of resistance.
"Something's not right... where the hell is everyone?"
Finally, the signal drew him to a small store. A mini-mart, half-collapsed but intact enough to hold someone inside.
Jason checked his tracker again. He moved closer — the red dot moved closer. Moved away — the signal got weaker.
He smiled.
Found you.
"Zap, this is Blackbird. Comm check. Over."
Jason grabbed the radio from his vest
"Blackbird, this is Zap. Comm check received. Over."
Jason clipped the radio back into his vest and made his way toward the door.
Jason slowly pushed the door open, his hand on his holster.
"Hello?" he called out. "Anyone in here?"
Silence answered.
"Damn it," he muttered, pulling out his phone to double-check his coordinates.
Suddenly, the air dropped — a crushing weight pressing down on him. Jason fell to his knees.
What the hell—?
He struggled to lift his head, every movement a battle, until finally he looked up — and saw her.
A woman. Mid-twenties. Expression unreadable. Eyes like burnt-out stars.
"Who are you?" she asked, her voice flat.
Jason slowly raised a hand. "Not... an... enemy," he wheezed.
The heaviness vanished in an instant. Jason dropped forward, gasping, bracing himself on one knee.
"Leave," she said, turning her back on him. "There's nothing left in this town."
Jason coughed, catching his breath. "I'm not here to scavenge. I'm here for you."
She didn't stop.
He followed her down the aisle — she was stuffing Chef Boyardee and soup cans into a battered backpack.
"I'm with a government agency," Jason began, trying to sound official. "We're recruiting talented individua—"
"Not interested."
The words hit like a wall.
Jason stood there, stunned. "Listen, I know you've lost people. We all have. But the best thing we can do now is keep moving forward—together."
She didn't reply. Just kept grabbing cans, mechanically.
He stepped beside her, knelt down. "Look... Chef Boyardee's too heavy. It won't last and it'll wear you down. You need lighter, high-protein stuff."
He pointed to the beef jerky. "That. And you'll need water. A lot more than you think."
He picked up a can, handed it to her. Their fingers brushed. She didn't react.
Jason stood and made for the door. Just before stepping out, he turned back.
"I'm parked in that big black field a mile or so out. We leave in ninety minutes. If you change your mind…"
He didn't finish the sentence. He just left.
Outside, he sank onto the old bench near the store window, rubbing his temples.
Gravity manipulation, he thought. That's a new one.
Ten minutes passed.
Footsteps.
He looked up — and there she was, backpack slung over her shoulder, striding toward him.
He stood. "So... I take it you're coming with me?"
She nodded once, dark eyes locking with his.
"Good. Then tell me one thing while I've got your attention—" he met her gaze carefully, "—what happened here?"
Her expression didn't change.
"They all died," she said, voice empty. "In that field you landed in. All of them. To one person."
Jason's heart skipped. "Shit... Are they still around?"
Her eyes narrowed. "No. They're gone."
Something about the way she said it made him drop the subject.
"I'm Jason," he offered, extending a hand.
She walked right past him.
"Zora."
Charming, he thought, and fell into step beside her.
They walked in silence all the way back to the field.
Every attempt at conversation — shut down with a grunt, a glare, or nothing at all.
Once they reached the helicopter, Jason gave the signal. The pilot nodded, rotors roaring louder as they lifted off the ground.
Within moments, they were airborne.
Jason glanced at Zora.
She hadn't said a word since they left the mini-mart — just stared out the window in silence, arms crossed.
But when they passed over a particular neighborhood within the corruption zone, she lingered.
Her gaze fixed on a single house below, longer than anything else.
Then, slowly, she sighed.
As if making peace with something.
She leaned back, closed her eyes, and said nothing more.
Jason watched her for a moment, then pulled out his phone and tapped out a message:
Got her. En route to the President's camp. Touchdown in one hour.
He slid the phone back into his vest, leaned into the seat, and exhaled.
The rhythmic hum of the rotors filled the space between them.
For now... it was enough.