“Are you feeling unwell?” The woman at the checkout asked anxiously.
“No, I’m fine,” I replied with a short nod. For some reason, everyone seemed overly concerned about my health today. Did I really look that awful? “Thanks.”
I smiled tautly and quickly disappeared into the labyrinth of shelves, escaping her watchful gaze. I spent the next ten minutes wandering aimlessly and browsing through books. Pulling one volume after another from the shelves, I read the blurbs, flipped through the pages, and skimmed the first lines that caught my eye… Yet I was certain I didn’t retain any of it; I was simply trying to drown out the endless cycle of overlapping thoughts.
In my mind, I was already drafting the article, visualizing the layout of the online publication’s page, and working out which phrases should be highlighted in bold. Despite this detached state, I still managed to select about seven books for purchase – simple paperbacks that were easy to carry due to their compact size and light weight. Among them were a couple I had already read.
It was hard to predict how long we would be staying in °22-1-20-21-14. Much depended on how talkative Givori would be, the general state of the city, and the activities of the Reapers. With that in mind, I figured it was wise to prepare something to occupy myself with beyond work.
I chuckled to myself, feeling a dull ache of melancholy spreading through my body. If I had the chance, I’d definitely explore the city – walk around, try the local cuisine, visit some landmarks… After all, it was rare for loyal citizens of the State to leave their assigned territories, where everyone was essentially "tied" from birth.
I cast a fleeting glance toward the local guidebooks. A shelf of those could just as well be labeled "cruel irony" everywhere.
Without thinking, I picked up a couple of pens and pencils.
Sam was probably right. We had come here for a sensational story, striking visuals, and information – and we got plenty of them. The trip wasn’t in vain, and that alone was worth so much. If I were religious, I might have offered heartfelt thanks to the Heavens.
I hadn’t heard Sam approach, so when his voice suddenly sounded by my ear – "Steph, I’m here" – I nearly dropped the books.
“You scared me,” I exhaled tightly, shaking my head. “Just give me a minute, and we’ll go.”
“You can't be left alone in a bookstore,” the guy winked.
And why would he have a reason to be down? Sam was holding a bag of food; we had the material we came for, plenty of work ahead, and no chance of getting back into the hospital today. Givori wasn’t likely to agree to an evening coffee chat, either. This day was shaping up to be a well-deserved break after a grueling trip and a morning filled with unpleasant moments.
Besides, nothing was stopping us from talking to the locals in °22-1-20-21-14. Who knows, we might even manage to speak with some military personnel – maybe luck would favor us there, too.
For a moment, I froze, replaying the journey here in my mind. The documents we’d prepared were impeccable; we’d passed all the customs checkpoints with ease. But…
How had my file disappeared from the investigation database? Why hadn’t the Reaper found me in their system? Where had my name gone? The memory of that night at the checkpoint resurfaced, chilling me to the bone.
“Steph?”
“Ah? Yeah… You’re right,“ I replied with a forced smile. Slowly, we began walking toward the checkout, glancing around.
Upstairs, the noise was growing louder: the sirens, which my ears had gradually gotten used to, blared more frequently; I thought I could hear echoes of gunfire reverberating through the streets – or perhaps it was just the confusion caused by the sound of cash registers and arcade games on the upper floor.
The small queue at the checkout barely moved; the cashier, half-asleep, scanned purchases without any sense of urgency. We waited with melancholic patience; Sam even had time to dash off to the philosophy section. Meanwhile, outside the bookstore, a commotion began. Voices grew louder.
I felt my insides tighten and freeze, my senses sharpening as if on high alert.
The customer in front of us left the store, studying their purchase intently. Sam paid first and stepped aside, flipping through a book, while I kept glancing out the glass panels. The confusion outside was thickening. People were hastily leaving the grocery store and heading toward the stairs.
There were no siren sounds. There was no smoke. Visually, nothing seemed to have changed – yet panic had clearly gripped the crowd.
“Miss, your purchases!” The cashier's insistent voice snapped me back. I nodded distractedly, quickly stuffing the books into my bag. I exchanged a worried glance with Sam, but he merely shrugged.
“Let’s get out of here and head back to the trailer,” I said firmly, grabbing Dort by the arm just above the elbow and practically dragging him toward the doors.
A second. Two. Just as Sam and I were nearly out of the bookstore, a piercing scream shattered the air – a scream filled with icy terror and desperate pain. For a moment, déjà vu yanked me back to the hospital, flooding my senses with the stench of antiseptics and spoiled blood.
I tightened my grip on Dort’s hoodie, holding him in place, and then I saw it…
It wasn’t violence in the usual sense. It was something far more sinister. Time seemed to slow, and every detail of the horrific scene seared into my vision.
There were two of them – just regular people, not patients from the third ward – disfigured, frenzied, rabid. They had attacked someone – a man or woman, it was impossible to tell now – and pinned them to the floor. Screams, inhuman shrieks. Words choked in a throat filling with blood. A dark pool spread across the marble under the body.
Everything blurred. Paralysis set in. Noise, chaos, panic erupted. People rushed toward the exits, trampling over one another, knocking others down, and crushing them underfoot. Screams, crashes, wailing. A horrible guttural growl echoed through the air. Then I realized there weren’t just two of them. My gaze caught more attacks in the crowd – new ones, and more still. The entire scene lasted mere seconds, though it felt like an eternity. A shop assistant nearby darted toward the door to shut it.
“No!” I shouted, trying to step back, but Sam stood frozen in place, pale as a sheet.
“Get inside or get out!” The girl screamed.
“Sam!” I shouted, shaking Dort hard. We bolted back.
What would have happened if we hadn’t gone back? If we’d hesitated for another moment? If we’d let panic drive us toward the staircase, into the city? What then?
The girl’s trembling hands managed to shut the doors. The sounds outside grew muffled… I stood there, staring blankly through the glass, watching as a group of people toppled a young man to the ground. They crowded around him, preventing any chance of escape. He flailed his arms, struggling to push them off, to get up. But they held him in a tight circle. Within seconds, his arm stiffened with convulsions.
The next moment, a man in shredded clothing slammed into the glass. My heart plummeted as I staggered backward. He turned awkwardly, his hands and face pressed against the glass. His lifeless, yellow-tinged eyes locked onto mine. Devoid of lips and cheeks, his jaw dropped to his neck, exposing his larynx.
A loud scream filled my ears, and I didn't immediately realize it was my scream. Everything went black in front of me, and I felt myself falling.
A dim sky, heat rising from the ground. Stifling. A flock of birds on the horizon. Screams. Rivers of blood, filled with snakes. Falling snow, spiraling down. A black sun, with an eye opening at its center. Columns. A forest. Damp earth underfoot. Graves. Givori. His bandaged arm. The bookstore.
And