Chapter 12: No One Hears Screams in District 11
The girl's name was Mari.
Hernan didn't ask. He read it off her hospital tag.
She'd been transferred to a local clinic in the outer edge of District 9 — still dirty, still bleeding, but breathing. Technically off the grid. No press. No reports.
But someone had spoken.
An audio trace had appeared on the dark channels — a whisper of a Zodiac execution, logged on a street scavenger's recorder.
A half-second clip. Muffled. But enough.
Enough to ruin everything.
So Hernan went back.
Alone.
He moved through the ruins of District 11 like a ghost — no wristband, no cadet uniform, just a grey hood and a medtech crate he'd stolen from the dorm supply closet.
The streets were quieter now. Buzzards gone. The air smelled like ozone and soot.