The Reckoning Road ii
Chapter 9(ii) – The Reckoning Road
POV: Blair
The road hummed beneath the tires, and the carriers groaned with every bump. Inside ours, the mood was light—surprisingly. A few soldiers laughed at some old war story, passing around a battered flask like it still held the same magic as before the world ended.
Our sergeant sat near the back, legs stretched out, his helmet pushed up as he talked about fighting in Sector 4 before it fell. He had this way of storytelling that made you forget how close to death we all were. Even Scarlett cracked a smile.
"Sector A/1," he said, "ain't seen that place since it was a government ghost town. Bet it still smells like policy and bad coffee."
The first hour passed with more jokes and the occasional road check. But I kept my eyes on the gaps in the tarp. Something in me felt tight—restless.
Then the sound changed.
BOOM.
The explosion lit up the road ahead. The jolt threw some of us sideways. Scarlett caught Jane before she hit the floor.
"Contact!" someone shouted from the front.
The sergeant was up instantly, barking orders. "Weapons out! Eyes forward!"
We scrambled.
Gunfire erupted in the distance. Sharp. Heavy.
The front of the convoy… it was smoke and chaos. The first two carriers had flipped—one was on its side, burning. Something had thrown them. Something strong.
"What the hell—" I whispered. "What did Grey call them?"
Revenants.
---
POV: Luke
I looked across the carrier at Grey. He already had his blade out, eyes narrowed. He nodded once.
And I moved.
The moment I jumped out, I hit the ground running, heading toward the flank where the screaming came from. More explosions echoed—one behind me. The shockwave knocked me to the dirt. I rolled, my ears ringing.
The third carrier was a heap of metal now. Black smoke climbed toward the sky.
Scarlett was already moving. Firing arrows in rapid succession like a trained machine. Every shot landed.
Jane was crouched low, covering a group of retreating soldiers. She was shouting something—I couldn't hear her.
Grey was ahead, fast and surgical. He carved through a Revenant like it was made of paper.
I flanked opposite him, mirroring his path.
Then four of them lunged for him at once.
He was occupied.
Two more came for me—fast, agile, and twitching like broken puppets. I slashed with my knife. It barely cut skin.
One hit me across the shoulder. I staggered.
The second clawed me in the chest and threw me into a bent guardrail. My head slammed against metal.
White sparks.
I couldn't think. Could barely breathe.
But something inside me was… shifting.
Burning.
---
POV: Jane
I saw it happen.
Luke hit the rail hard, his body crumpling like paper. I gasped and almost broke cover
When he stood up... slowly
---
I blinked once. Then again.
That wasn't the Luke I knew.
The boy who joked too much, who always tried to keep things light. The one who still fiddled with his brother's broken watch. That Luke had vanished the moment his body snapped.
It was subtle at first—easy to miss.
His body convulsed against the rail like it was fighting something inside. Not pain. Something more violent. Something waking up.
His hand trembled as he tried to stand, but then his fingers curled with unnatural strength, crushing the edge of the broken guardrail like it was tinfoil. His shoulders rolled with a pop, as if something dislocated and reformed at once.
His breath quickened—short, animalistic bursts.
A faint hum—like static—hung in the air around him.
Then he stood.
Fully.
His blade lifted, but there was no hesitation in his stance now. His posture was no longer defensive—it was surgical. Calculated. Like Grey's.
Only louder. Fiercer.
The Revenants lunged at him again.
The first never reached him.
Luke spun with precision, a blur of movement, his knife slicing through the thick, rubbery hide like it wasn't even there. The second Revenant grabbed him, but Luke didn't flinch. He grunted, twisting under its grip and slamming it into the dirt with bone-breaking force.
Crack.
The impact echoed across the clearing.
His eyes… there was something in them. Not glowing like fire—no. Just a faint light. A ripple, deep beneath the surface. Like the moment before lightning.
It wasn't rage. It wasn't instinct.
It was something else.
A voice beside me whispered, "Did you see that?"
Scarlett. She had stopped firing. Just watching. Her eyes were wide—not with fear, but something close.
Disbelief.
Amy stepped up behind her. "That's not… normal," she said, voice quiet. "That's not adrenaline."
I glanced at Grey. He was busy finishing off the remaining enemies—silent and precise, as always—but something about his movement changed.
He knew.
Luke was panting now, staring down at the corpses around him. His hands trembled—not from exhaustion, but like he wasn't sure what he'd just done.
He looked… afraid.
Of himself.
I took a hesitant step toward him, rifle lowered. "Luke?"
His eyes darted up, meeting mine.
Not wild.
Just lost.
The ground around us was littered with bodies—undead and broken steel. Smoke burned in the distance.
And Luke stood in the center of it.
The trigger had been pulled.
And whatever had been buried inside him?
It wasn't going back.