Chapter 2

I steadied myself and scanned the cabin. Several people sat inside—faces I knew better than my own.

Claire kept her eyes on the road outside the window, one hand resting beside her holster, calm and composed. Jack was lowering his head as he adjusted his gloves, unhurried, as if this run beyond the walls were just another routine errand.

Three more squad members sat in the back row. Their posture was loose, but their eyes stayed alert.

Harris laid his rifle across his knees, pressing his thumb against the magazine as he checked the feed lips. The day headquarters arrested me, he’d been the first to draw, standing in front of me and yelling for me to run—then he took a bullet to the chest. Now he was alive, breathing evenly, and even raised his eyebrows at me.

“Captain, you looked like you were having a nightmare,” Harris said under his breath. “Want some water?”

I didn’t answer right away. I leaned back into the seat and forced my breathing to steady.

Last life, I died in a dungeon, under Claire’s needle. At least I’d been given a chance to start over.

I replayed the timeline carefully. That was right—we were on an outbound mission, heading to an abandoned gas station to recover serum the Main City had accidentally left behind.

My gaze settled on Claire.

Her jawline was tight, as if she were holding something in.

At this exact point in my last life, she should have been discussing routes with me—how to get those few vials of serum back through the dead zone safely.

Then I heard her speak to Jack in a lowered voice.

“If anything happens later, stay close to me.”

It was quiet, and the cabin was loud. Anyone else might have missed it. I didn’t—and I was sure she hadn’t said that last time.

Jack glanced up at her and smiled warmly. “Don’t worry. I won’t slow you down.”

Claire didn’t respond. She simply fixed her eyes even more firmly on what lay ahead.

I didn’t move. I didn’t question her. But my mind began calculating at full speed.

There was only one explanation for that warning—Claire had come back too.

She remembered Jack would “get into trouble” here, so she was protecting him in advance.

If she had been reborn, that meant she’d returned with last life’s hatred and conclusions already in place.

I couldn’t expose her right now.

If I confronted her in the vehicle, she would go on guard immediately. And we were outside the walls with a full team—nothing was more dangerous than infighting.

Besides, Jack was sitting right there. Any single sentence could be twisted into a weapon in his hands.

I needed to take the initiative back—but in a way I could control.

My eyes shifted to Jack.

In my last life, I’d collected plenty of evidence. The zombies hadn’t gathered here by accident—they’d been lured. Our route hadn’t leaked—it had been fed out deliberately. And the only person who could manipulate a mission like this while keeping his own hands clean was Jack.

He was the warlords’ line inside the city.

Turning back wouldn’t help.

Even if I ordered the driver to turn around right now, Jack could still use the radio—or bait he’d planted ahead of time—to pull the horde onto us along the road.

If I couldn’t avoid the trap, then I would finish the game—finish it inside an area I could control.

I set a new objective for myself: no rushing to clear my name, no rushing back to the city. On this mission I had to accomplish one thing first—fake my death and disappear.

Only if I was “dead” would Claire shift all her attention back to Jack. Only if I was “dead” would Jack believe the threat was gone, move more boldly, and expose bigger cracks.

More importantly, once I stepped out of the City Defense system’s public identity, I’d no longer be bound by its procedures and permissions. I could dig him out in a far more direct way.

We stopped at an abandoned toll station for a quick resupply. While Claire got out to “catch up” with Jack and had no time to watch me, I issued orders to the people in the vehicle.

“Everyone check your ammo now,” I said. “Move spare mags to your hands—don’t bury them in your packs. Count your grenades, flares, and rope.”

Harris executed immediately, passing it on to the other two members. “You heard him—swap mags, count your gear. Don’t slack.”

One of them chuckled. “Captain’s extra cautious today.”

I didn’t explain why. I only added what mattered most. “Memorize the extraction route again. There are service roads on both sides of the gas station. If anything goes wrong, take the overpass first—don’t drop into the low ground. We’re not here to die. We’re here to bring the goods back.”

I was shrinking casualties in advance, carving out room for the chaos that was coming. Too many people died last time. I wasn’t going to watch these teammates fall again.

After the break, the vehicle got back on the road. The terrain ahead worsened. Through the windshield, broken guardrails and toppled signs appeared, and the outline of the gas station emerged through the dust. Several abandoned cars lay across the roadway, their windows black and empty, like something inside was watching us.

The onboard alarm stayed silent, but a faint hiss of static came through the radio—as if something were interfering with the signal.

The driver cursed. “This damn place—signal’s drifting again.”

Jack lifted his head, voice gentle. “Probably too much metal around here. It messes with reception. Don’t get nervous.”

It sounded reasonable—almost like reassurance.

Then Claire spoke abruptly. “Stop. I’m getting out to check the terrain.”

“I’ll go with you,” Jack said at once.

Claire shook her head, lowering her voice even further. “Stay in the vehicle. When I said stick close to me, I didn’t mean for you to play hero.”

The armored vehicle stopped with a jolt, and everyone in the cabin rocked slightly.

Claire pushed the door open and climbed down. Wind and dust rushed in. I didn’t get out immediately—I only watched her from the doorway. She crouched, ran her fingers over the tire tracks, then looked toward the overpass not far away, as if searching for something suspicious.

That was not something she would have done in my last life. If she was checking early now, it meant she remembered where things would go wrong.

I pulled my eyes back and turned to the team inside the cabin. My voice wasn’t loud, but it was enough to press down every sound. “Second check. Harris, take someone and confirm the comms on the rear vehicle. Same channel for everyone. If you hear static, report it first—don’t switch channels on your own.”

Harris nodded. “Understood.”

I added one more line. “Anyone who gets out reports to me first. No solo moves.”

I didn’t take his joke. I held his gaze for two seconds, making sure he understood this wasn’t politeness—it was restraint.

Outside, Claire stood up, brushed the dust off her gloves, and started to head back.

Right then, the static in the radio suddenly surged.

The driver frowned. “What the hell is—”

The next second, the vehicle alarm shrieked.

Not a normal fault tone—an external proximity alert. The sound was sharp enough to make your scalp tighten.

Harris snapped his muzzle up at once. The other two members braced their rifles at the firing ports, so synchronized it looked practiced.

I didn’t waste breath on “prepare to fight.” I issued orders. “Lock all doors, open firing ports. Keep thirty meters between front and rear vehicles—don’t let the formation break. Claire, get back in the vehicle now!”

Claire didn’t hesitate. She spun and sprinted for the door.

And farther out, the dust began to churn unnaturally, as if an entire mass were moving across the ground. That wasn’t wind. Those were footsteps—countless footsteps layered into a single tremor.

I tightened my grip on the weapon. My knuckles went white.

“They’re here.”