Signs
Chapter 34
"Sure, why not — I haven't had anything to drink since this morning," Jane said, holding her knees, barely upright, while Alex sat nearby, quietly contemplating every life choice that had led him here.
The three of them stepped inside, stopped short by the sheer number of bottles lining the walls. The entrance alone was wide enough to fit ten people comfortably, and the first floor — of the bar's two — opened into a space clearly built for private events, the kind you only ever heard about from people with money.
"So, what'll it be?" Kaito asked, slipping into the role of bartender, already setting out two glasses.
"I'll take a glass of the Jenny's red wine," Jane said, wiping the dust off a chair before settling in and clearing her throat. Out of the three of them, she was the one who actually knew her way around a drink, and she figured she'd earned this — one glass, after everything they'd been through, wouldn't hurt.
"Just water for me, please," Alex said, quietly judging Jane's choice. He wanted to say something, but he didn't feel close enough to her — or brave enough — to push it.
"Coffee it is," Kaito said instead, already pouring Jane's wine, the rich smell of roasted cocoa and strawberry curling through the bar.
"This brings back memories," Jane said, breathing it in, smiling.
"You might not know this, but my line of work can get pretty unsettling sometimes," she added, swirling the glass gently in her dominant hand, eyes somewhere far off in the past.
"Here you go," Kaito said, setting a steaming cup down in front of Alex.
Alex blinked at it, stunned. *I asked for water. I'm sure I asked for water. Did that happen again?* He stared at the cup a moment longer, working through it in his head, before finally giving in and taking a sip.
"Thanks. It's really good," he said, a little awkwardly, managing a small smile.
While he drank, the bar's interior pulled his attention. For a place in a neighborhood this upscale, it was strangely clean — but the furniture told a different story, shoved aside in a way that read as panic rather than tidiness. Outside, a broken window suggested someone had hurled a chair through it trying to get out. This wasn't the kind of bar fight you saw in movies.
He didn't dwell on it long. Unsettled as it was, he got up and headed for the restroom — only to freeze a few steps later when a faint beeping sound reached him from a room nearby. He hesitated at the door, nerves getting the better of him, before curiosity won out.
Palms sweating, knees unsteady, he crept up to the door, gripped the hinge, took a breath, and pushed it open in one motion.
The room beyond was dark, no natural light reaching it at all — and being alone in it put every nerve in his body on edge.
The sound turned out to be coming from an indoor solar unit, left waiting for someone to flip it over from grid power. Relief washed through him. He switched it to solar, and the lights flickered on, along with the TV out where Kaito and Jane were sitting.
"...God, I'm an idiot," he muttered to himself with a laugh, continuing on toward the restroom.
"Lighten up a little," Jane said, glancing toward Kaito, who was busy rifling through the cabinets for anything useful.
"I'm listening," he said, not looking up from what he was doing.
"Back when Chase and his crew left — why didn't you go with them? He seemed pretty invested in you," she said, watching for his reaction. She had no idea the two of them had been at odds, or that Kaito hadn't exactly left by choice.
"Mm... I don't know. Guess I was scared to go back to dealing with the undead," he said, a little too fast. "Besides, I'd just come from campus — pulled an all-nighter finishing a paper that was due the same day everything went to hell." His voice carried just enough nerves to give away the deflection.
Before she could push further, unsatisfied with the answer, the TV cut to a pre-recorded broadcast about the outbreak.
The footage showed a man in military uniform standing at a podium, swarmed by reporters.
*"Mr. Myers, what can you tell us about the recent deaths at the train station?"* one asked.
*"We're still investigating,"* he answered.
*"Would you say those deaths are connected to the death of the Prime Minister at St. Jones Airport?"*
*"No comment."*
*"And the rumors about the harbor — that a cruise ship's been quarantined, stranded for three days?"*
*"Just a coincidence,"* he said.
"Whoa — they're tearing him apart," Jane said, just as Alex stumbled back into view, soaked in blood. An undead had been locked in the bathroom the whole time, and when he'd opened the door, it had nearly made a meal of him. He sat down quietly, eyes fixed on what he thought was just the news.
The reporters kept pressing, demanding to know if the deaths were connected to a controversial figure known only as Dr. Niell — and then the footage cut out.
Unsettled, Kaito grabbed one of the remotes from the cabinet and kept pressing buttons until the screen switched over to the bar's own CCTV recording.
"*Oh my god,*" Jane breathed, horrified at what played out in front of them. The footage showed mass panic — people clawing over each other to get outside, screaming, the chaos only growing worse. *"HELP ME—"* one voice cried out before being torn apart on camera. The rest fled without looking back. Within five minutes, the bar sat empty — and the camera had kept recording ever since.
"What the hell happened to this town?" Kaito asked, equal parts confused and desperate for an answer. No one had one. The only truth any of them could hold onto was the need to survive one more day.
"It started in the restroom," Alex said quietly, still covered in blood.
Jane went silent, her mind struggling to process it. A thought crept in, unbidden — *what if it had been me.* Alex, frail as he looked, poor posture and all, had somehow handled the undead alone, quietly, without losing his composure. There was clearly more to him than she'd given him credit for.
"Are you okay? Do you need anything?" Kaito asked, concern written across his face. The man in front of him seemed almost unnervingly calm, despite the blood — the adrenaline hadn't worn off yet, that much was obvious.
"Yeah," Alex said, voice steady, cheerful even. "I'd like another coffee. One teaspoon of sugar, please." Not a single stammer.
