Chapter 55: Home Part III

Chapter 55: Chapter 55: Home Part III

The moment Killian stepped into the lobby—

He froze.

Mr. Gonzales.

The security guard lay motionless on the floor.

Blood stained the marble.

The furniture had been overturned.

A broken broom lay nearby.

A shattered chair.

Blood droplets.

Signs of a struggle.

And—

The head.

The destroyed head.

Killian’s pupils contracted violently.

Impossible.

No.

No.

No.

His breathing became uneven.

His heart began to pound.

His eyes immediately darted toward the date displayed on his watch.

His face went pale.

Too early.

It was too early.

The dead weren’t supposed to wake up until tomorrow.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow!

Cold sweat covered his back.

How?

What changed?

Did he remember wrong?

No.

Impossible.

He had lived through hell.

He remembered.

He remembered all of it.

The hunger.

The blood.

The endless despair.

He remembered watching cities fall.

He remembered burying friends.

He remembered spending years wondering why he had survived when others hadn’t.

He remembered.

So why?

Why had they awakened early?

Then—

His expression changed.

Penelope.

Had she returned?

Was she still outside?

No.

No.

No.

He immediately turned toward the elevator.

Then stopped.

His eyes narrowed.

No.

He didn’t trust it.

Not anymore.

What if it malfunctioned?

What if something trapped him inside?

What if—

Killian spun around and rushed toward the emergency staircase.

Twenty-five floors.

He didn’t care.

He ran.

Past the first floor.

The fifth.

The tenth.

His breathing became ragged.

His suit was soaked with sweat.

His heart pounded wildly.

Only one thought remained.

Please.

Please let her be safe.

Please.

The fifteenth floor.

His legs burned.

The eighteenth.

His lungs screamed.

The twentieth.

And finally, the Twenty-Fifth Floor.

He burst into the hallway.

Breathing heavily.

His hair messy.

Dark circles beneath his green eyes.

And there—

Standing beside her apartment door—

Was Penelope.

Standing.

Still awake.

As though she’d been waiting.

Waiting for him.

The moment she saw him—

Relief flooded her beautiful amber eyes.

And she smiled.

"Killian?"

His body froze.

She was safe.

She was alive.

Thank God.

His breathing remained uneven.

His hands trembled slightly. He walked towards her.

Stopping right in front of her. Staring at her deeply.

And for one terrifying moment—

He almost reached out.

He wanted to.

He wanted to inspect her.

Check her arms.

Check her face.

Ask if she had been hurt.

Ask if she’d encountered one of those things.

Ask if she was really okay.

But—

Killian stopped himself.

Because they were just friends.

And because boundaries mattered.

So instead—

He simply stood there.

Looking at her.

As though making sure she was real.

Penelope blinked.

Then her expression changed.

"Killian?"

She stepped forward.

Alarm filled her eyes.

"What happened?"

His lips parted.

But no words came out.

Because the moment he saw her standing there—

Safe.

Alive.

Waiting for him—

The fear he’d been suppressing all day finally surfaced.

And for the first time since his rebirth—

Killian felt terrified.

Not for himself.

But for her.

"Earth to Mr. Remington." Penelope said as she waved a hand in front of his face.

Snapping him out of his thoughts.

"I saw one." he said slowly. "laying dead."

Penelope blinked. She was sure her team had not seen one when they got home.

"Where?" she asked, making sure.

"Lobby. Traces of a battle. I thought..." he said. "I thought it was you and your team who dealt with it."

"No." Penelope shook her head. "We didn’t encounter any zombies here."

"Here?" Killian repeated. "What do you mean, ’here’?"

"Well...we encountered a small horde of zombies when we went to the construction district." Penelope said.

Killian froze.

His green eyes widened.

"A horde?"

Penelope nodded.

"There were quite a few."

His expression became ugly.

"When?"

"Earlier this evening."

"Earlier?"

Penelope blinked.

"Yes."

Killian’s heart sank.

Earlier.

Too early.

Everything was too early.

The dead.

The attacks.

The awakening.

Everything.

Something had changed.

Something had gone terribly wrong.

And he hated not knowing why.

Penelope immediately noticed his expression.

"Killian?"

He slowly raised his head.

"Tell me exactly what happened."

Seeing the seriousness in his eyes, Penelope didn’t joke.

She carefully recounted their trip to the construction district.

Their encounter.

Their escape.

Kai’s near miss.

Ben’s fear.

Erik’s injuries.

Everything.

Killian listened quietly.

But the more he listened—

The uglier his expression became.

When she finally finished, silence fell.

Then—

"He could’ve died."

Penelope froze.

"What?"

Killian closed his eyes.

"Kai, he could have died tonight."

His voice softened.

"Do you understand."

He took a deep breath.

"The timing is wrong."

"The numbers are wrong."

"The awakening is wrong."

His voice became hoarse.

"Everything is wrong."

Penelope frowned.

"Wrong?"

Killian nodded.

"The dead weren’t supposed to wake up today."

"They weren’t supposed to gather in groups so quickly."

"The city shouldn’t descend into chaos yet."

His eyes darkened.

"But it will. Zombies are forming hoards. When they first awakened before, they were still mindless. They started forming hoards after a few days. Not on the first night of awakening."

Penelope’s expression gradually became serious.

She knew Killian wasn’t joking.

Because this wasn’t the calm and composed Mr. Remington.

This was the Killian who had survived the apocalypse.

And right now—

He looked disturbed.

Truly disturbed.

"Do you think someone changed something?" Penelope asked quietly.

Killian became silent.

Then—

"Maybe."

His answer sent chills down her spine.

"Maybe?" she repeated.

Killian looked toward the staircase.

His voice lowered.

"The zombie downstairs."

"The one in the lobby."

"You said your group didn’t kill it."

Penelope nodded.

"And I certainly didn’t."

Silence.

The two looked at each other.

Neither spoke.

Because both had reached the same conclusion.

Someone else.

Someone else had fought in that lobby.

Someone else had survived.

And whoever they were—

They had reached the same conclusion as them.

Destroy the head.

Penelope’s voice became soft.

"Could it be another survivor?"

Killian’s expression remained dark.

"Perhaps."

"But survivors aren’t always friends."

His answer startled her.

She looked at him.

And suddenly remembered.

Killian had lived through this.

He had seen humanity at its best.

And at its worst.

"Killian..."

His eyes softened slightly.

"I’m not saying they’re enemies.

But neither can we assume they’re allies."

Penelope nodded slowly.

That made sense.

In desperate times—

People changed.

Sometimes for the better.

Sometimes for the worse.

Then—

Killian’s expression changed.

His eyes narrowed.

"No."

Penelope blinked.

"What?"

He looked toward the floor beneath them.

"The furniture."

"The broken broom."

"The chair."

His pupils contracted.

"There were signs of panic."

"He wasn’t experienced."

Penelope froze.

"He?"

"The person who fought."

"He struggled."

"He improvised."

"He was afraid."

Killian’s eyes became thoughtful.

"This wasn’t done by a veteran."

Penelope’s eyes widened.

"You can tell all that?"

Killian nodded.

"Yes."

"Which means..."

He paused.

And for some reason—

His voice became even heavier.

"Whoever they are..."

"They’re just beginning."

"And if they survived..."

"They’ll either become very strong..."

"Or die."

Silence.

Neither of them found comfort in those words.

Because they both understood.

The apocalypse had begun.

And somewhere in this building—

Another player had entered the board early.

Friend?

Enemy?

Victim?

Monster?

Neither of them knew.

But one thing was certain.

From this moment onward—

The future no longer belonged solely to Killian and Penelope.

And for the first time since his rebirth—

The man who had relied upon his memories above all else...

No longer trusted tomorrow.

And somehow—

That terrified him more than the zombies.

Outside.

The city remained silent.

But neither Penelope nor Killian noticed.

Because standing in the hallway together—

They both understood.

The game had changed.

And yet-

Neither of them realized.

That just five floors below—

A blonde woman was currently forcing her cousin to drink water while lecturing him about physical fitness.

Completely unaware—

That two people upstairs had already classified her existence as a potential threat.