Chapter 171: Real small world, huh?
The soldier tilted his head back, pressing the small paper pouch between his fingers before popping it under his lip.
His jaw worked slow.
A breath in through his nose—sharp, satisfied.
Like that mattered more than anything else.
Like what was happening infront of him didn’t exist.
Blood and spit pooled from Aubrey’s mouth as she stayed bent over, one hand braced against her knee. It dripped, thick and dark, hitting the concrete in uneven drops.
The soldier in front of her cracked his knuckles.
"That’ll teach you to respect the big boys in charge, bitch."
Aubrey didn’t move.
For a second, it looked like she might just stay there.
Then—
A laugh.
Low. Dry. Wrong.
She lifted her head slowly, one eye squinting through the swelling, blood smeared across her lip.
"You compensating for something?" she muttered, flashing a crooked, bloody grin.
The soldier’s face tightened instantly.
His fist came up—
"Don’t waste it, John."
Another soldier leaned against the barrier nearby, watching like it was a show.
John paused.
Then smiled.
Not a nice smile.
Aubrey barely had time to register it before his boot slammed into her stomach.
The air left her in a sharp grunt as she hit the ground hard, shoulder scraping against the concrete.
"You’re right," he said, looking around like he needed an audience. "Ain’t worth the paperwork if I accidentally kill one of these freaks."
Aubrey curled slightly, coughing once, blood and spit mixing again.
Around her—
Terri stood tense, hands raised halfway like she was ready to step in but knew better.
Hale had his eyes closed for a second, jaw tight, like he was forcing himself not to react.
Isabella...
She just stood there.
Frozen.
Like she didn’t know where to look.
John noticed.
His eyes narrowed.
"You."
Isabella flinched.
"...me?"
He took a step closer.
"Yeah, you."
His gaze dragged over her, slow.
Then flicked back to Aubrey on the ground.
Then back again.
"You and this dyke scissor or something?"
Aubrey’s head turned slightly.
Her expression darkened.
Isabella didn’t answer.
Didn’t move.
Her silence said enough.
John chuckled under his breath.
"Yeah. Thought so."
He gestured lazily.
"Step forward. Gotta run a screening."
Hale’s eyes opened.
"She’s already —"
"Step forward," John repeated, sharper this time.
Isabella swallowed.
Then stepped.
Slow.
Careful.
Like each step had to be chosen.
Aubrey pushed herself up onto her elbows, watching.
Her breathing was heavier now.
Rough.
John circled Isabella once.
Then stopped behind her.
His hands came up.
And landed.
Not quick.
Not professional.
Slow.
Deliberate.
One hand on her shoulder.
Sliding.
Testing.
Isabella stiffened instantly.
Her fingers curled at her sides.
"That’s wicked, John," one of the other soldiers called out with a grin.
A couple of them laughed.
Another leaned forward, watching closer.
"Make sure she ain’t hiding anything," he added.
John smirked.
"Oh, I will."
His hands moved again.
Lower.
Lingering.
Isabella’s breath hitched.
Her face twisted slightly, like she was trying not to react, trying not to give them anything.
Aubrey saw it.
Every second of it.
Her jaw clenched so hard it hurt.
Her fingers dug into the ground as she pushed herself up further.
Blood smeared across her chin.
Her vision narrowed.
The noise around her dulled.
All she saw—
Was him touching her.
Something in her snapped loose.
She got to her feet.
Slow.
Unsteady.
But standing.
Her hands curled into fists.
Her body leaned forward—
"Okay! Okay, fine!"
Terri’s voice cut through everything.
Sharp.
Loud.
Enough to pull attention.
John paused.
His hands stilled.
Terri stepped forward, forcing a shaky smile.
"You made your point," she said quickly. "She—Aubrey—she’s got a mouth on her, yeah, but she didn’t mean anything what she said."
Aubrey’s head snapped toward her.
Terri didn’t look.
"She won’t undermine you again," Terri added. "We get it. Really."
A beat.
John looked between them.
Then at Isabella.
Then back to Aubrey.
His hand dropped.
"Tch. Whatever."
He stepped back, already losing interest.
Isabella didn’t wait.
She moved fast—straight into Aubrey, arms wrapping around her like she needed to hold onto something real.
Aubrey stiffened for half a second.
Then one arm came up around her.
Tight.
Protective.
John flicked out a cigarette, lighting it like nothing had happened.
The other soldiers started drifting off, one of them digging into his pocket.
"Man, I need more paks," he muttered.
Another snorted. "You sure you ain’t getting addicted, man?"
"’Course not. I’m better than that."
Their voices faded as they walked.
The tension didn’t.
Not right away.
It sat in the air.
Heavy.
Ugly.
Terri let out a breath.
"...what a bunch of dicks."
Aubrey pulled away from Isabella slowly.
Her face was still set.
Still burning.
"I had that handled."
Terri looked at her.
"No, you didn’t."
Aubrey scoffed.
"I was about to."
"And then what?" Terri shot back. "You swing? You get us all dragged off somewhere worse?"
Aubrey stepped forward.
"And what, we just let them do that?"
"It’s their world," Terri snapped, frustration breaking through. "Not ours. Not anymore."
"Seriously??? The infected’s world out there, and now it’s these idiots?? Just because they’re in uniform doesn’t mean we just bend over—"
"It means we survive!"
The words hit harder than intended.
Terri’s chest rose and fell quickly.
"...This isn’t Chicago," she said, voice tighter now. "This isn’t Texas. You don’t mouth off and walk away clean."
Aubrey laughed once.
Bitter.
"Easy for you to say."
Terri frowned.
"What’s that supposed to mean?"
"You’re used to it," Aubrey said. "Getting pushed around. Playing it safe."
Terri’s face hardened.
"At least I’m trying to make this place stable for us."
"By letting shit like that slide?"
"By keeping us alive long enough to find Adrian," Terri snapped. "That’s the goal. Or did you forget?"
Aubrey’s mouth opened—
"And after that?" Terri pushed. "We go back. Carl. Adira. That’s the plan."
Her voice cracked just slightly.
"This is our shot at something normal."
Aubrey stared at her.
"Normal?" she echoed. "You call that normal?"
Terri didn’t answer right away.
Her silence said enough.
Aubrey shook her head, stepping closer.
"That’s not normal, Terri. That’s—"
"Stop."
Isabella’s voice cut in.
Soft.
But enough.
They both looked at her.
Her hands were still shaking slightly.
Her eyes moved between them.
"...please," she said.
That was it.
The argument died there.
Not resolved.
Just... paused.
And somewhere down the corridor—
A soldier laughed.
—
The silence sat wrong.
Too heavy.
Too aware.
It didn’t make sense how quiet things had gotten after all that noise, all that movement—like the room itself was holding its breath, waiting to see who’d snap first.
I could still feel it in my chest.
Adrenaline.
Not gone.
Just...settled. Sitting there, making everything sharper than it needed to be.
Saul leaned back against the wall, a cloth pressed tight to his nose. Blood had soaked through it already, dark and spreading. His breathing came uneven, through his mouth, shoulders rising and falling like he was trying to steady himself and failing.
Jackson stood a few feet off, arms folded.
Staring at me.
Not blinking much.
Not hiding it either.
Cherie hovered closer to the center of the room, her hands fidgeting at her sides, eyes flicking to me, then away, then back again like she didn’t know where to land.
Naomi didn’t even try.
She kept her gaze off me completely, jaw tight, arms folded like she was holding herself together.
No one sat near me.
No one.
Except—
Lila.
Her hand was locked around mine, fingers tight, almost digging in. I could feel the tension in her grip, the way it didn’t loosen even a little.
Like if she did, something would go wrong.
I exhaled once, dragging a hand down my face.
"Listen—"
"Question."
Jackson.
Of course.
I looked at him.
Really looked this time.
The way he held himself. The way his eyes stayed on me, like he was trying to pull something out of me without touching me.
Yeah.
This wasn’t gonna be good.
"What was the name you said when you came in?" he asked. "The guy. You said he and his people were here."
For a second—
I didn’t get it.
My brain stalled.
Then it clicked.
My stomach tightened.
Why would he even—
I opened my mouth.
Stopped.
Bill.
That’s what I was about to say.
Bill.
The name sat right there, ready to come out.
But something about the way he said it—
That drawl.
That accent.
Same kind I’d heard before.
Same kind that had been behind guns. Behind orders. Behind people who didn’t hesitate.
Texan.
My pulse hit once.
Hard.
Then steadied.
"...Bernard," I said, easy. "Bernard and his people."
I shrugged slightly.
"Just some folks we ran into before getting here. Good people."
The lie came out smooth.
Too smooth.
Jackson didn’t react right away.
Neither did Saul.
They both just looked at me.
Weighed it.
"...Bernard," Jackson repeated slowly.
His eyes narrowed just a fraction.
"Could’ve sworn I heard something different."
I held his gaze.
Didn’t blink.
Didn’t shift.
Deny.
Deny.
Deny.
A beat passed.
Then another.
Saul adjusted the cloth at his nose, wincing slightly, but his eyes stayed on me too now.
They didn’t believe me.
Not fully.
But they didn’t push.
Not yet.
Which was worse.
Cherie clapped her hands once.
Too loud.
Too forced.
"Well— uh... looks like the gang’s all back together, huh?" she said, smiling like she could stitch the room back together with it.
No one smiled back.
I didn’t say anything.
Didn’t feel like I should.
Didn’t feel like I knew these people enough to even pretend.
Saul and Jackson especially.
The way they looked at me—
Like I’d already done something.
Like I just hadn’t been caught yet.
A second dragged.
Then I spoke again.
"You should know Aubrey and Isabella are alive."
I said it flat.
Like it didn’t matter.
Like it was just...information.
Cherie’s head snapped toward me.
"...you’re bullshitting me, right?"
There it was.
That look.
Hope mixed with disbelief, like she didn’t want to let herself lean into it too fast.
I smirked slightly.
Small.
"I’m not."
I leaned back just a little, eyes flicking toward Saul and Jackson.
"Figured they’d be here," I added. "You know how they are."
My tone shifted.
Just enough.
"They don’t really sit around when their people go missing."
Jackson caught it.
Of course he did.
His arms tightened across his chest.
Saul’s eyes moved between me and Cherie.
Like he was putting pieces together he didn’t like.
Cherie didn’t even notice.
Her focus stayed on me.
"...you saw them?" she asked.
"Not directly," I said. "But I saw enough."
That wasn’t a lie.
Not really.
"They made it," I added. "Same as us."
Something softened in her face.
Relief.
Real.
Naomi shifted slightly at that, her expression tightening again, like the idea of more familiar faces didn’t sit right with her.
Lila’s grip on my hand tightened.
I glanced down at it.
Then at her.
Her eyes were on Cherie.
Sharp.
Unreadable.
There was something there.
Something simmering.
Possessive.
I squeezed her hand once, subtle.
She didn’t look at me.
Didn’t loosen her grip either.
Jackson finally moved, uncrossing his arms.
"Lot of people you just happen to know," he said.
I looked at him.
"World’s small like that."
He huffed lightly.
Didn’t smile.
"Yeah," he muttered. "Real small."
Saul pushed himself off the wall slowly, still holding his nose.
"You run into trouble with that...Bernard?" he asked.
There it was again.
That name.
Sitting wrong in my ears.
I shrugged.
"Nothing we couldn’t handle."
That answer didn’t help.
I could tell.
The room shifted again.
Tighter.
More aware.
Cherie looked between all of us, like she was trying to keep things from slipping again.
"...okay," she said quietly. "Okay. That’s...that’s good. That means—"
"It means we’re not alone," I cut in.
My eyes stayed on Jackson.
"Never were."
Another beat.
No one argued that.
But no one agreed either.
And in that silence—
I could feel it again.
That same thing from earlier.
Not just tension.
Not just distrust.
Something worse.
Like we were all in the same room...
But already on different sides of something none of us had said out loud yet.