Chapter 3 :Dead Zone East

They moved fast now.
Quieter.
Deeper.
Every sound was sharper.
Even their own breath felt like it echoed too loud.

The older boy led them through a collapsed train tunnel,
once painted white,
now burned black.
Graffiti smeared every surface.
Half of it looked fresh
like someone had been tagging messages in the dark.

“We shouldn’t be here,” Rook whispered.
“This is Sector B. No one came out of here last winter.”



The girl with the slingshot didn’t slow down.

“That’s the point,” she said.
“No one expects us to come this way.”



The tunnel opened into a large underground space.
Abandoned platforms, torn seats,
and silence so heavy it pushed down on their lungs.

And then they saw it
the Black Wall.

It stood at the end of the chamber,
thirty feet high, covered in scorch marks.
No doors.
No handles.
Just a single red handprint, fresh and dripping.

The boy stepped forward slowly.
He pressed his palm against the cold steel.
A low click.
Then silence again.

Suddenly
a flash of light.

A camera.

Someone was watching.

The boy didn’t move.

“We’re not ghosts,” he said aloud.
“You know that.
We’re still breathing.
And we came for answers.”



A speaker crackled from the ceiling.

Static.

Then a voice deep, mechanical, filtered.

“Four entered. Four silent. Four marked.
Step back or disappear like the rest.”



The girl raised her slingshot.

“Say that again,” she muttered,
“I dare you.”



The boy stepped in front of her.

“We’re not turning back,” he said clearly.
“You left us out there.
You shut the gates.
Now we walk through, or we tear this wall down ourselves.”



There was a pause.
Then the wall made another sound
Clank.
Whirr.
Drag.

A narrow doorway opened.
Not enough for all.
Just one.

“One may enter,” said the voice.



Rook stepped forward.

The boy stopped him.

“No. It’s me.”



He turned to the others.

“If I’m not out in ten minutes,
go back to the checkpoint.
Wait three hours.
If I’m still not there burn the map.”



He stepped inside.

Darkness swallowed him.

Then the door sealed shut with a metallic slam.




Inside the Black Wall…

The hallway was narrow.
Lit only by flickering red lights above.
The air smelled like oil and dust.
And fear.

He walked straight,
hands ready.
Footsteps light.

Then voices.

Low. Muffled.

He reached the end of the corridor and pushed open a door.

And found them.

Five men sitting around a table.
Each in black coats.
Faces scarred.
Eyes like broken glass.

In the center of the table:
a binder.
On its cover his photo.
His face.
And three stamped words:

“Target: Incomplete Termination.”

“You finally came,” said one of the men.
“Just like your brother.”



The boy’s jaw locked.

He hadn’t heard that name in two years.

“You know where he is?”



The man smiled.

“No one knows where ghosts hide.
But we know what he left behind.
And now, it’s your turn to carry it.”



The boy stepped forward.

“Tell me what this is.”



The man slid the binder across.

“This is everything.
Your past.
Your mission.
And the truth about who really lit the first fire.”



The boy opened it.
What he saw made him freeze.

A name.
A location.
And a list of codewords he thought were myths.

Behind him, another voice whispered in the shadows:

“Welcome back, kid.
Dead Zone was waiting for you.”