Home / Other / Concrete Veins / Chapter 4: The Things We Buried
Chapter 4: The Things We Buried
Author: Twix
last update2025-05-26 18:14:42

9:42 PM – East End Safehouse, Hidden Flat Above Guerra’s Junkyard

The safehouse wasn’t much to look at—cracked linoleum floors, a sink that moaned every time it spat out water, and a couch that had seen better centuries. But it was safe. Off-grid. Forgotten.

Jay had rigged the place with half a dozen motion detectors and a modified drone parked on the roof that he swore had been built using parts from a stolen government surveillance bot and an old gaming console. Dorian didn’t ask questions. He just needed Malik stable.

Malik lay stretched out on the couch, a thermal blanket draped over him, his breathing shallow but steady. The IV Jay had set up was connected to a medbag they kept for emergencies—a leftover from Dorian’s old Ghost Unit days. Antivirals, hydration fluids, synthetic protein drips.

“You sure he doesn’t need a hospital?” Jay asked, pacing in a circle and chewing on the sleeve of his hoodie.

“He can’t go to a hospital,” Dorian said without looking up. He was sitting at the edge of the couch, one hand resting on Malik’s arm. “They’d track his blood the moment he hits a scanner.”

Jay raised an eyebrow. “That’s... very comforting. Also extremely illegal.”

Dorian finally looked up, eyes dark and tired. “Everything we’ve done since yesterday is illegal.”

Jay paused, then nodded slowly. “Okay. Good point. I guess I’ll go make tea and quietly spiral into an anxiety attack.”

He disappeared into the kitchen, muttering about chamomile and death by conspiracy. Dorian turned back to Malik.

He hadn’t seen his brother in five years. Not since the Ghost Unit was disbanded after the “incident” in Sector Ten—the night Malik was declared KIA. That night haunted Dorian. The explosion. The screams. The silence afterward.

He thought he’d buried Malik under a collapsed building and a government lie.

But here he was.

Alive.

Barely.

Malik’s eyelids fluttered.

“Dorian?” he rasped.

Dorian leaned forward. “Yeah. You’re safe.”

Malik blinked slowly, his face pale and worn. “You look older.”

“Thanks. You look like you died and came back to haunt me.”

Malik chuckled, but it ended in a cough. “Close enough.”

Jay peeked in, holding a chipped mug. “Tea’s hot. And probably safe. No promises.”

Dorian nodded toward the table. “Leave it. Then give us a minute.”

Jay placed the mug down, threw Malik a mock salute, and vanished again.

Dorian waited until they were alone.

“What happened?” he asked softly. “That night—Sector Ten. I saw you go down.”

Malik licked his dry lips. “There was no explosion. That was the cover story. We were betrayed. Someone tipped off the target. Voss showed up mid-op. Said he had a new directive.”

Dorian’s jaw clenched. “Voss was supposed to be in Europe.”

“He lied. He said Ghost Unit was obsolete. Said we were being dismantled—recycled.”

Malik’s eyes turned hollow. “They hit us with tranquilizer darts. Took the whole team. I was the only one who fought back. I escaped the transport, but not for long. They found me weeks later. Hooked me to machines. Told me I was... special.”

Dorian’s voice dropped. “Because of the serum?”

Malik nodded.

Dorian sat back, stunned. “The same prototype we tested in Blacksite Zero?”

“Modified version,” Malik said. “Back then, it was just strength enhancers and neural boosts. Now it’s different. It rewrites your system. Copies itself. Replicates inside your bloodstream.”

Dorian’s heart pounded. “So you’re… carrying it.”

“They said I was Patient Zero. The first stable host. They ran tests. Took samples. I think they’re building an army, D. Not soldiers. Weapons.”

Dorian ran a hand down his face.

It was worse than he’d feared.

Malik looked at him. “You remember the file we found in Prague? The one marked ‘Legacy Protocol’?”

Dorian nodded. “That was a dead op.”

“It wasn’t dead,” Malik said. “It was a blueprint. For what they’re doing now.”

Jay’s voice cut in from the kitchen. “Hey, uh… not to interrupt your horror movie flashback, but we’ve got a problem.”

Dorian jumped to his feet. “What kind of problem?”

Jay walked in holding a tablet, frowning. “The facial scan you made of one of the goons who jumped you at the warehouse? Ran it through old G-Unit databases. Guess where he used to work?”

“Where?”

“Rookstone Correctional.”

Dorian blinked. “A prison guard?”

“Yeah. But not just any guard. He worked in Cell Block Zero—off-books. No public record. Rumor was it’s where they kept the worst of the worst. Black site inside a prison.”

Dorian crossed his arms. “What’s it mean?”

Jay zoomed in on the guard’s photo. “It means whoever’s behind this isn’t just recruiting ex-military or mercs. They’re recruiting ghosts. People who officially don’t exist.”

Malik sat up straighter, eyes alert despite the pain. “Voss said he wanted control. Maybe that’s it. He’s building a shadow unit.”

Dorian nodded slowly. “Like Ghost Unit… but loyal only to him.”

Jay leaned on the table. “So what do we do?”

Dorian looked at Malik. “You said they called you Patient Zero. That means there’s others.”

“There were,” Malik said. “But most didn’t survive. Some… changed.”

Jay paled. “Changed how?”

Malik didn’t answer.

Dorian turned to Jay. “We need to find out where they’re keeping them. If Voss is building something—we end it now.”

Jay held up a finger. “Before we go charging into another warehouse full of psychopaths with military-grade steroids—maybe we take one night to rest, heal, and not die?”

Dorian glanced at Malik, who was already swaying.

He sighed. “Fine. One night.”

Jay pumped a fist. “I’ll microwave some noodles. Very anti-climactic, but our bodies will thank us.”

Malik smirked faintly. “Still weird how you ended up with Dorian.”

Jay shrugged. “I have many talents. One of them is not dying when everyone else does.”

Dorian cracked a small smile. It didn’t last long.

Because outside the window, down in the shadows of the alley, a flicker of motion caught his eye.

A silhouette.

Standing.

Watching.

Gone the second he blinked.

He stepped to the window, heart pounding.

Nothing but darkness.

But he knew what he saw.

Someone had found them.

Again.

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