Bel And Sigh

This is chapter 4 of Artificial Apocalyse

Chapter 1
Chapter 2
CHApter 3

Bel’s grip on the rock didn’t loosen as Marcus stood frozen at the edge of the clearing, his hands raised in surrender. The faint glow of the moon cast long shadows across his face, and despite the tension in his posture, his voice was calm.

“I don’t know how to convince you,” Marcus said evenly, “but if I were one of them, I’d have attacked you by now.”

Bel didn’t move, her eyes narrowing. “You could just be waiting for the right moment.”

Marcus sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. “Fair enough. But honestly, if I were like them, I wouldn’t be talking to you. I’d already be clawing at your throat, wouldn’t I?”

Sigh, crouched slightly behind Bel, nodded, his voice chiming in with nervous optimism. “He’s got a point. Ragers don’t… uh… talk. They just charge at you, jerking around like broken marionettes. Trust me, they don’t do calm and collected.”

Marcus’s brow furrowed as he glanced between the two of them. “Ragers?”

Bel shot Sigh an annoyed glance but didn’t lower the rock. “He’s talking about the people controlled by the Neural Links. We’ve been calling them Ragers because it fits.”

Marcus blinked. “That’s what they’re like? Jerky movements, aggressive?”

“Like a zombie movie,” Sigh added, gesturing vaguely with his hands. “But smarter. Sometimes they work in groups, and they’re freakishly strong.”

Marcus absorbed the information, his lips pressing into a thin line. “I’ve seen people like that, but I didn’t know the Neural Links could… do that to someone.”

Bel’s eyes narrowed further, her grip tightening. “If you’ve been out here since this started, how do you not know what’s happening?”

“I’ve been avoiding everyone,” Marcus said quickly, his voice sharp with frustration. “You think I stop to observe the Ragers when they’re trying to kill me? I just run. That’s how I’ve survived.”

Bel stared at him for a long moment, her instincts still screaming not to trust him. But what he said made sense—or at least enough sense not to kill him outright. She lowered the rock slightly but didn’t let go.

“Fine,” she said, her tone cold. “You can stick with us for now. But the second you make me regret this, I’ll make sure you don’t get the chance to do it again. Got it?”

Marcus nodded, his hands still raised. “Got it.”

Sigh let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “Well, this is the part where I’d usually make an awkward joke, but, uh… maybe let’s just get moving?”

Marcus pointed toward the tree line. “There’s a maintenance shed deeper in the park. It’s out of the way, and I don’t think the drones scan that far. It’s safe, I promise.”

Bel’s glare lingered on Marcus for a moment longer before she motioned for him to lead. “If it’s not, you’re going first.”

Marcus nodded silently and turned, leading them into the shadows of the trees.

The trees grew denser as they followed Marcus deeper into the park. Shadows stretched and shifted with every breeze, and the faint sounds of the city—distant sirens, shouting, the unnerving buzz of drones—seemed muted here, swallowed by the forest.

Bel stayed a step behind Marcus, her eyes fixed on his every move. She carried the sharp-edged rock in her hand, fingers tight around its rough surface, ready for anything. Sigh trailed behind her, his breathing a little heavier, his laptop bag bouncing against his side with every step.

“How much farther?” Bel asked, her tone clipped.

Marcus glanced over his shoulder, keeping his voice low. “Not far. Just past that grove up ahead.”

The group pressed on in silence, the tension between them thick. Marcus’s pace was steady, but Bel noticed how he glanced around occasionally, as if checking for something—or someone. Her grip tightened on the rock.

Finally, the shed came into view, half-hidden by overgrown ivy and surrounded by dense bushes. It was small, with peeling paint and a sagging roof, but it looked solid enough. Marcus pushed through the foliage and reached the door, testing it with a careful shove. The old wood creaked but held.

“Here,” he said, stepping aside. “It’s not much, but it’s out of the way.”

Bel swept past him, her eyes scanning the interior. The shed was cramped and musty, filled with rusted tools, coiled hoses, and dusty shelves lined with cans of paint and grease. The smell of mildew was strong, but it was dry, and the walls seemed sturdy.

“It’ll do,” she said flatly, stepping inside. She jammed the rock into her pocket and grabbed a rusty shovel leaning against the wall, wedging it against the door as a makeshift barricade. “Just in case.”

Sigh flopped onto an overturned bucket with a dramatic sigh of relief. “Finally. My legs are killing me.”

Marcus leaned against the far wall, his expression calm but his eyes wary. He folded his arms across his chest, watching as Bel scanned the room with methodical precision.

“So what’s the plan now?” he asked, breaking the silence.

“We figure out our next move,” Bel replied curtly. “Starting with how to avoid the drones.”

“And the Ragers,” Sigh added, resting his chin on his hand. “Can’t forget about them.”

Marcus hesitated, his gaze flickering between the two of them. “How long have you been dealing with this? The drones, the… Ragers?”

“Since yesterday,” Sigh said, running a hand through his hair. “We were streaming, just playing a game, and suddenly—bam. Everything went to hell.”

“Streaming?” Marcus asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah. Twitch. You know, video games, commentary, live chat,” Sigh explained, waving a hand vaguely. “Our viewers actually warned us before we noticed anything. That was fun.”

Bel shot him a look. “Focus, Sigh.”

“Right, sorry,” Sigh muttered, straightening up. “But yeah, it’s been nonstop running ever since. And Bel’s been carrying us, obviously.”

Marcus nodded slowly, processing their story. “Sounds like you’ve got some experience with this already. That’s good. Means you know how to stay alive.”

Bel’s eyes narrowed. “What about you? You said you’ve been running since this started. What else do you know?”

Marcus shrugged, his tone neutral. “Not much. Just that staying in one place too long is a death sentence. The drones are relentless, and the Ragers don’t stop once they’ve got your scent. You can’t fight them, not directly.”

“Then why were you hiding in the park?” Bel asked, her voice sharp.

“It’s open,” Marcus replied calmly. “Fewer places for the drones to corner you. And the Ragers… they don’t come here often. Too much space, not enough Neural traffic.”

Sigh tilted his head. “Neural traffic? What does that mean?”

Marcus hesitated, a flicker of something unreadable crossing his face. “Just a theory. The Ragers seem to cluster where there are more people. Less activity out here means fewer of them, that’s all.”

Bel didn’t look convinced, but she let it go. For now. She turned her attention to Sigh, who was already pulling out his laptop.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Trying to figure out a way to stop this,” Sigh said, his fingers dancing across the keyboard. “If I can find a weak point in the Neural system—like a blind spot in the signal—we might be able to exploit it.”

Marcus frowned slightly, stepping closer. “You really think you can do that?”

Sigh grinned, a spark of his usual humor returning. “Hey, I’m good with tech. Plus, if I can’t figure it out, we’re probably doomed anyway. So, no pressure.”

Bel ignored the comment, turning back to Marcus. “If you’re sticking with us, you follow our lead. No wandering off, no making decisions without telling us first.”

Marcus raised his hands in a placating gesture. “Fair enough. You’re in charge.”

“Good,” Bel said, her tone leaving no room for argument. She moved to a corner of the shed, crouching down to examine the tools and supplies. “We’ll rest here for a bit, but we need to keep moving soon. The drones won’t stay away forever.”

As she spoke, the faint hum of a drone echoed through the trees, distant but unmistakable. Everyone froze, the tension in the room spiking.

“Speak of the devil,” Sigh muttered, closing his laptop. “Guess resting isn’t on the menu after all.”

Bel grabbed the shovel from the door and motioned for the others to stay quiet. She pressed her ear to the door, listening intently.

The hum grew louder, then softer, then louder again, as if the drone was circling the area.

“It’s scanning,” Marcus whispered, his voice barely audible.

“How do you know?” Bel shot back, her eyes narrowing.

Marcus hesitated, then shrugged. “I’ve been dodging them long enough to recognize the pattern. Trust me.”

Bel’s instincts flared again, but she shoved them aside. “Stay ready,” she said, her grip tightening on the shovel. “If it finds us, we run.”

The shed settled into a tense silence as the faint hum of the drone faded into the distance. The three of them waited a moment longer, holding their breath, before Sigh let out a quiet exhale.

“Guess we’re safe. For now,” he muttered, leaning back against the wall.

Bel scanned the room one last time, then nodded reluctantly. “We need rest. Running on fumes isn’t going to keep us alive.”

Marcus slid down to sit against the far wall, his posture relaxed but his eyes wary. “I’ll take the first watch.”

Bel’s gaze lingered on him, skeptical. “I’ll handle it.”

“You sure?” Marcus asked. “You’ve probably been up longer than I have.”

“I’m sure,” Bel said firmly, grabbing an old wrench from a nearby shelf and sitting near the door. She adjusted the makeshift barricade with one hand while keeping the other on her weapon. “Get some sleep.”

Sigh didn’t need any convincing. He stretched out on the ground, using his laptop bag as a makeshift pillow. “Wake me up when it’s my turn. And, uh, try not to let the Ragers eat me.”

Bel smirked faintly despite herself. “I’ll do my best.”

Within minutes, Sigh’s soft snores filled the shed. Marcus leaned back against the wall, his head tilting slightly as he closed his eyes. Bel kept watch, her grip on the wrench tightening every time a branch rustled or a gust of wind creaked through the trees outside.

Eventually, though, exhaustion crept in. The adrenaline ebbed, her limbs grew heavy, and her eyelids drooped despite her best efforts. She shifted her position, trying to stay alert, but sleep claimed her before she realized it.

When Bel woke, the shed was bathed in the pale, gray light of dawn. Her body ached from the hard ground, but it wasn’t the discomfort that set her on edge—it was the silence.

Too quiet.

She sat up quickly, her heart pounding as her eyes darted around the room. Sigh’s makeshift bed was empty, his laptop bag still lying on the floor where he’d left it. Marcus was gone too, his spot against the wall vacant.

“Damn it,” she muttered under her breath, scrambling to her feet.

She checked the door—still barricaded. But the small window on the far side of the shed was slightly ajar, a faint breeze rustling the cobwebs inside. Bel’s stomach churned. Had they left willingly? Or had something taken them?

A faint sound outside caught her attention—leaves crunching, distant but distinct. She grabbed the shovel and edged toward the window, peering out cautiously. The forest was still, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that someone—or something—was watching.

Her mind raced as she considered her next move.

What happens Next: The Choice Is Yours

Choice A: Search for Sigh and Marcus immediately.
Bel could grab her supplies and follow the faint trail outside the shed. The crunching leaves and the open window were clues—if she acted fast, she might catch up with them before it was too late. But rushing into the unknown could be a trap, especially if the drones or Ragers were involved.
Winner: Keep reading in Chapter 5

Choice B: Stay and assess the situation.
Bel could stay in the shed and take a moment to analyze the situation. Maybe Sigh and Marcus had left for a reason, or maybe they’d been taken. Either way, charging into the forest unprepared could leave her vulnerable. If she waited, there was a chance they might come back—or she might find more evidence of where they’d gone.

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