The walls were too close. The air was too still. And the sound of her heartbeat thundered louder than the infected above them. Tess pressed her back against the cold metal of the storage unit, her breath catching as the groans echoed from outside. Seven of them. Maybe more. Just one thin roll-up door between her and the shredded faces of the turned. Across from her, Milo crouched in the dark, clutching a crowbar and a pistol with one bullet left. His shirt was soaked in sweat. The veins on his neck glowed faintly—the Phoenix-9 still burning under his skin. They hadn't meant to hide here. The supply run went wrong fast—an alarm tripped, a swarm unleashed, and no exits left but the back alley full of trash and rusting shipping containers. They dove in and slammed it shut. Milo whispered, "How long before they move on?" Tess shook her head. "Could be minutes. Could be hours." "What if they don't?" She didn't answer. Just looked at his hands—shaking, glowing, gripped white-knuckle around the crowbar. And then, she noticed it. It thumped like a war drum. He felt her stare. "It's louder now, isn't it?" "Since Phoenix," he said. "Since the mutation. I think it wants out." He swallowed. "Whatever they made me into." Outside, footsteps dragged. Something brushed against the door. Tess instinctively reached out, grabbed Milo's arm, pulling him closer. Everything went still. A hand slammed the metal door. A snarl. Then another slam. Milo raised the gun. Tess touched his wrist. Just the sound of their heartbeats. Tess finally slumped against the wall. "I can't tell what's worse—waiting, or wondering if you'll become one of them." "I already am," Milo said softly. "No," she said. "You're not." "You heard it, Tess. My heartbeat isn't normal. It's louder than ever. I'm glowing." "It means I'm changing." "And you think that makes you less human?" She crawled over to him, pressed her forehead to his. "I've killed people who turned. Watched friends lose their minds. But you're still here. Still you." She placed his hand on her chest. "You're not the only one still burning." When the sun finally rose and the infected moved on, they opened the door to silence. But inside, for the first time in a long time, something was louder than the dead. Even in hiding, even in hell— a heartbeat means you're still fighting.