I never thought I’d miss the sound of traffic. Now, silence is the worst noise—because it means something’s watching. We’ve been holed up in an old subway station for three days. Mira says we need antibiotics. Jax found a pharmacy on his map. I know it’s a risk. But staying here means waiting to starve—or turn.

I check my knife. One bullet left. My hands don’t shake anymore. That’s how I know I’m not human like I used to be.

'We go at dawn,' I say. 'Quiet. No guns unless we have to.'

Jax nods. Mira looks at me like she’s seeing the corpse I’ll become.

Outside, a child’s laughter echoes down the tunnel. Too high. Too clean. No kid’s alive out there.

It’s bait.

Do we investigate the voice? Do we flee now while we still can? Or do we set a trap—and see what walks into it?