Aurora clutched her stomach, her trembling fingers slick with purple blood. The same eerie color that flowed from every zombie, staining her torn dress. She stumbled but kept her footing, her wide, unblinking eyes darting between Jack and Zoe.

Zoe’s rifle stayed steady, aimed squarely at Aurora’s head. "Jack, why won’t you let me put it down?" she demanded, her voice sharp and unyielding. "Has it infected your mind? Is it controlling you?"

"No!" Jack stepped between them, his arms outstretched, shielding Aurora. "She’s different, Zoe. Just look at her skin! She’s… human. At least, part of her is."

Zoe’s grip tightened on the rifle as she took in the scene. The creature’s skin wasn’t decayed like the other zombies they’d encountered. It was pale, but smooth, almost alive. But the blood—purple as ever—was undeniable.

"You’re seeing what you want to see," Zoe snapped. "That thing is bleeding like the rest of them. It’s dangerous. We can’t risk it."

Before Jack could respond, Aurora straightened up. Her hand fell away from her stomach, her wound having healed on its own. The purple blood stopped flowing.

Zoe’s heart skipped a beat. "No… No way. How did it—?"

Aurora turned her head slowly, her eyes locking onto Zoe’s. Then, in a voice that was hoarse yet unmistakably human, she spoke.

"Why… shoot? Why… Aurora?"

Zoe froze, her mouth hanging open. Zombies didn’t talk. They didn’t think.

"Jack," she whispered, her voice now laced with fear, "what the hell is going on?"

Jack placed a calming hand on Zoe’s rifle. "Lower it," he said softly. “ Just for a second. I’ll explain everything. But you need to trust me."

Jack sprayed a neutralizing agent over his arms, wincing as the chemical fizzed against his skin. The stinging eased, but the tension between him and Zoe did not. She stood a few feet away, gripping her rifle, her gaze flickering between Jack and Aurora like she couldn’t decide which one of them was the bigger threat.

Aurora, oblivious to the turmoil, rummaged through their bags with a wide-eyed curiosity. She held up a flashlight, clicked it on, and gasped at the beam of light like a child discovering fire for the first time. Then she moved on to a can of beans, shaking it and tilting her head as if trying to decipher its secrets.

"Zombies don’t do that," Zoe muttered, her voice tight with disbelief.

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"Exactly," Jack replied, his tone clipped.

"But zombies don’t think, Jack." Zoe’s voice rose as she spoke, her words tumbling out in rapid succession. "The virus doesn’t leave room for intelligence. It infects animals, humans, anything it can sink into, and it turns them into monsters. Dangerous, mindless monsters that kill for no reason. Not for food, not for survival. Just to kill."

Jack let out a sharp breath and turned to her. "I know, Zoe. You don’t need to remind me." He paused, softening his tone. "And you need to watch your blood pressure. You’re worked up again."

Zoe clenched her jaw but fell silent. She inhaled deeply, willing herself to calm down.

Aurora, seemingly sensing none of the tension, looked up from the bag she was digging through. She had found a packet of crackers and was holding it up triumphantly like she’d just discovered buried treasure.

Zoe rubbed her temples and then turned to Jack. "Fine. Let’s say she’s different—whatever that means. What are you planning to do with her? Keep her like some kind of pet?"

Jack met her gaze evenly. "I don’t know yet. But first, we’re getting to the military base. One problem at a time, Zoe."

"And then what?"

Jack sighed. "We’ll figure that out when we’re there. You’ll have ammo for a month at least for your gun."

The mention of ammunition gave Zoe something else to latch onto. She nodded reluctantly, letting the thought of restocking calm her nerves.

Aurora, meanwhile, had found a roll of duct tape. She was turning it over in her hands, inspecting it like it was the most fascinating object in the world.

Jack finally found the military base he had been talking about, just a few meters south into the dense jungle. It wasn’t what Zoe expected—a grand facility or heavily armed fortress. Instead, it was a squat concrete bunker, partially hidden under layers of vines, with two imposing metal doors at the entrance.

Zoe stepped ahead, her curiosity pulling her out from the cover of the trees.

"Hold up!" Jack whispered, grabbing her arm and pulling her back behind a thick trunk.

"What? Why are you—" she started but froze when Jack silently pointed toward the base of the bunker’s walls.

Zoe squinted, her eyes scanning the grey surface. At first, she saw nothing. Just lifeless concrete and some overgrown moss. But then—her heart lurched.

Camouflaged perfectly against the bunker walls were several motionless hulking figures. Their grotesque forms vaguely resembled bears, but their fur was patchy and sickly, their muscles swollen unnaturally under decaying skin. Their heads were poised unnervingly, as if listening for the faintest sound.

"Oh, God," Zoe breathed, instinctively stepping back into the shadows. "Those things... have they seen us?"

Jack shook his head. "Not yet. They’re just standing there, waiting."

"For what?"

"I don’t know," he whispered. His tone was low, calm—but his grip on her arm betrayed his tension.

Behind them, Aurora tugged at Jack’s shirt. The girl peered out from her hiding spot, her pale eyes flicking toward the bear-like zombies.

"They’re guarding it," Zoe muttered. "Of course, they’d guard the base. They’re... they’re trained, or controlled, or—"

"Shh," Jack cut her off, his gaze still locked on the creatures. "We don’t want to be heard."

Aurora let go of Jack’s shirt and took a slow step forward, her face illuminated faintly by the light filtering through the canopy.

Zoe turned to Aurora, her voice a frantic whisper. "Are you crazy? Get back here!"

Aurora didn’t answer. Instead, her lips curled ever so slightly into a smile.

Jack noticed it—small, almost imperceptible.