The air grows colder, sharp as ice cutting through the alleyway. The walls and metal around us frost over, a creeping wave of cold pushing forward like an oncoming storm.
"Looks like whatever killed this guy is coming back. We should get out of here before it reaches us," Isaiah says, his expression tense.
We start moving in the opposite direction, keeping an eye on the advancing ice field.
"It's not catching up that fast. Maybe we can outrun it," Zack suggests.
"But wouldn't the officer have been in the cold before he died?" Chris asks.
"What?" Isaiah turns to him.
"The cop. He was frozen solid, right? So how did he die? Shouldn't he have been frozen in place like the others?"
A heavy silence settles between us. If the cold didn't kill him, then what did?
Suddenly, the icy storm picks up speed. The thin layer of frost spreads faster along the buildings. Panic grips us.
"Shit, it's getting faster!" Zack shouts.
We sprint toward the town square, dodging frozen patches as we go. The same lifeless civilians from before still roam the streets, oblivious to the chaos around them. Then, the blizzard catches up, sweeping past the towering buildings, consuming everything in its path.
One by one, the people freeze in place, their bodies locked in motion as if time itself had stopped for them.
"Shit, shit, shit—what do we do?!" Zack yells, desperate.
Isaiah's eyes dart around before he spots an open building. "Shelter! There!" He points at a business entrance labeled Star-Link Industries.
We make a run for it, barely reaching the entrance before Zack lets out a pained scream.
"Ah! Fuck!" He stumbles inside as ice spreads across his leg. Isaiah and Chris slam the doors shut behind us, shielding us from the storm.
Zack collapses onto the floor, panting. His jeans are laced with ice, the frost spreading slowly.
"You okay?" I ask, kneeling beside him.
"Do I look okay?! This shit burns, man! I can't feel my leg!"
I press my fingers to the frozen fabric—cold enough to burn skin on contact. Ice so cold it burns?
I grip Zack's arm, helping him up, throwing it over my shoulder for support.
"Why was this the only building open?" Chris asks, glancing around.
It's a good question. We've been here for hours, but every building we passed before had fake doors—just imitations of real structures. So why was this one real?
I glance down at the ring on my finger. "Yo, Goldie, you got any answers?" I whisper.
No response. Nothing but silence.
"Huh? Who you talking to, man?" Zack shoots me a look.
"No one," I mutter. I need to be more careful.
Isaiah takes control again. "At this rate, we're gonna starve before that blizzard kills us. We should look around for food or anything useful."
He's right. He's been right about a lot of things. It's good having someone like him—a soldier who knows how to handle high-stress situations. While we've been panicking, he's been keeping us alive.
We searched the lobby first. The Star-Link Industries sign glows in neon blue above the reception desk, a corporate symbol positioned behind it. Chris rummages through the counter while I help Zack into a chair.
"Hey! I found some water and candy!" Chris calls out.
"Yo! You're pushing me, kid!" Zack grumbles.
Isaiah yells from down the left hall. "There's a vending machine here!"
"Same over here!" I shout back from the right side.
We regroup, gathering what we could scavenge. Isaiah builds a small fire using stuffing from a couch and some broken wood from the front desk. Zack shares a trick for getting all the snacks out of a vending machine with just a single coin.
"So, we got enough food for a few days. Then what?" Zack asks, his tone serious.
We all turn to Isaiah, waiting for a plan. He thinks for a moment before speaking.
"Zack's leg isn't looking good for walking. You and Chris stay here and warm up. Jayden and I will search the rest of the building."
No one argues. Isaiah and I start toward the right side of the building, leaving Zack and Chris by the fire.
I press the elevator button, but nothing happens.
"Figures," Isaiah sighs. "We should take the stairs anyway. Getting stuck in an elevator right now will only make things worse."
I nod. His thinking is sharp—always a step ahead.
We reach the stairwell. The steps go up several floors, but below us, a long passageway stretches into darkness. Flickering lights barely illuminate the basement level.
Isaiah catches my stare. "What are you thinking?"
"That whatever's down there looks like something straight out of a horror movie."
Isaiah rubs his chin. "Judging by everything so far, this place seems to be the center of whatever the hell is happening here. And my gut tells me that the basement holds the answers."
He's smart—calculating everything, reading the situation. I'm glad I trusted him.
"Let's search the upper floors first. Once everyone's rested, we'll tackle the basement together."
Floor by floor, we move through the building. Each level looks the same: cubicles, offices, and a manager's room. It's a standard corporate workspace, nothing unusual—until we reach the top floor.
The executive level.
The biggest office has a sign reading CEO - Steve Mullen. Inside, everything is fancier than the lower floors. Framed jerseys line the walls—Durant, James, Curry, Bird. Signed basketballs and footballs sit in glass cases alongside expensive artwork.
I approach the memorabilia before spotting a black and gold safe in the back.
"Damn. This guy was loaded," I mutter.
Isaiah skims through some documents on the desk. "This place was a tech lab. These files approve experiments and lab tests in, 'B-34.'"
I frown. "Sounds like the basement to me."
"Exactly. We'll regroup and check it out once Zack's back on his feet. Might finally get some answers."
We return downstairs. Chris is passed out on the couch.
"Yo, you're back! Find anything good?" Zack asks, tossing a signed baseball in the air.
"Just a rich guy's office and some documents," I reply, throwing the ball at him.
Isaiah eyes Zack's leg. "How's it feeling?"
"All good now, soldier boy."
"Good. Get some rest. I'll take first watch."
"First watch? Of what? It's just us here," Zack scoffs.
"We don't know that. We haven't checked the basement. Whoever sent us here might still be watching."
Before Zack can argue, I cut in. "I agree. Can't hurt to be careful. I'll take second watch."
"Whatever." Zack turns over, grumbling.
I twist the ring on my finger as I lay back, staring at the ceiling.
For now, we rest. But soon, we'll find out the truth.