Red Dot Protocol: Survival of the Logistics Officer

Chapter 10: The Fever and the Kiss

"Get back, Sarah!" Wei Xian lunged forward, grabbing Sarah by the waist and pulling her clear as Gabriel’s body hit the floor with the sound of a falling sandbag.

Gabriel’s fingers clawed into the concrete, his nails scraping until they bled. His chest heaved, a wet, rattling sound echoing off the bunker walls.

"Wei Xian, look at his vitals!" Sarah scrambled to the monitor, her face pale. "His oxygen saturation is bottoming out, and his white blood cell count—it’s not fighting the infection. It’s replicating it!"

"How long?" Wei Xian knelt beside Gabriel, gripping the Major’s shoulder to keep him still.

"Minutes. Maybe less. The virus is rewriting his genetic structure in real-time," she stammered, her hands trembling as she grabbed a handful of needles. "I can't stop this with standard antibiotics."

"You don't need antibiotics," Wei Xian said, his voice cold and steady. He tapped his temple, the HUD projecting a complex, shimmering helix of light above his palm. "I need you to pull my blood. Now."

"What? Your blood is the only thing keeping you stable. If you drop your own viral load, you’ll be wide open to the same mutation!"

"Do it, Sarah! He’s the only one who can keep the peace if we get out of this. Just pull the line!"

"This is madness," she muttered, grabbing an IV bag. "If I kill you both, I’m locking this bunker from the outside. You know that, right?"

"If you don't do it, he’s going to turn into one of those things, and then we’re all dead anyway. Make the cut."

Wei Xian felt the sting of the needle, the rhythmic pull of the pump a sharp contrast to the chaotic humming in his own brain. Beside him, Gabriel’s eyes snapped open. They weren't brown anymore. They were bruised, clouded, and burning with a frantic, subterranean heat.

"Tan," Gabriel rasped, his voice sounding like two stones grinding together. "Don't bother. Just put a bullet in my head."

"Shut up, Gabe. You’re not dying on my watch," Wei Xian spat, watching his own blood flow through the clear tubing into the Major’s vein.

"You’re wasting it," Gabriel coughed, a spray of dark, viscous fluid hitting the floor. "I can hear them. The others. It’s like a frequency in the back of my skull. They’re calling."

"Block it out," Wei Xian leaned closer, his brow slick with sweat. "Remember the training? The mental compartmentalization? Use it."

"It’s not training, it’s biology," Gabriel gasped, his grip tightening on Wei Xian’s forearm. His strength was inhuman; he left deep indentations in Wei Xian’s tactical vest. "Why are you doing this? We were rivals. I spent three years trying to bury you."

"And I spent three years trying to stay ahead of you," Wei Xian retorted. "I didn't keep you alive because I like you, Gabe. I kept you alive because the world is going to burn, and I’m a coward. I need a soldier to hold the shield while I work."

Gabriel let out a wet, broken chuckle. "You’re a terrible liar, Wei Xian."

"And you’re a terrible patient. Stay still."

Sarah watched the monitor, her jaw set. "The synchronization is taking hold. Wei Xian, your heart rate is spiking to 140. If you hit 160, your own system will trigger a failsafe shutdown."

"Then keep the flow steady," Wei Xian ordered, his vision blurring. He felt the cold creep into his veins, a parasitic chill that fought against the warmth of his own blood. "Gabe, look at me. You remember the old firing range at Jurong? The one with the rusted target stands?"

Gabriel blinked, his eyes tracking Wei Xian with difficulty. "What?"

"The target stands. You beat me by two points every single time. It drove me crazy. I used to go back at night just to practice, wondering how you always held the line so damn steady."

"You were... always too impulsive," Gabriel murmured, his breathing slowing. The dark veins beneath his skin began to fade, retreating from his throat toward his shoulder. "You wanted the win, but you never cared about the process."

"I care about the win tonight," Wei Xian breathed, his head swimming. "Hold the line, Major. Don't let that frequency take you."

The silence in the bunker grew heavy. Sarah monitored the vitals, her expression shifting from panic to profound confusion. "The replication is stalling. Your blood... it’s acting like a dampener. It’s forcing the pathogen into a dormant state."

"Keep it coming," Wei Xian whispered.

"I’m stopping the transfusion," Sarah said, pulling the needle. "Any more and you’ll go into shock."

Wei Xian slumped against the crates, his skin pale, his hands shaking. He looked at Gabriel. The Major was still, his eyes closed, the bruised tint in his irises fading to a faint, lingering crimson—a permanent mark of what he had endured.

"Is he?" Ah Beng poked his head out from behind a pile of rice bags.

"He’s stable," Sarah whispered, checking Gabriel’s pulse. "For now."

Gabriel opened his eyes. They were human again, though that ghostly red shimmer remained at the very edges of his pupils, like a dying ember. He sat up, his movements stiff but coordinated. He looked at his own hands, then at Wei Xian.

"I still have the scent," Gabriel whispered. "I can smell the rot outside. Even through these walls."

"That’s the upgrade, Gabe," Wei Xian said, wiping blood from his lip. "You’re not just a soldier anymore. You’re a sensor."

"And what happens when the sensor decides to stop listening to the programmer?" Gabriel asked, his tone unreadable.

"Then I guess we’ll find out who’s the better shot," Wei Xian answered, offering a weak, lopsided grin.

Gabriel reached out, grabbing a discarded canteen and taking a long, desperate gulp of water. "Fair enough."

The bunker was quiet for a heartbeat, the only sound the humming of the air filtration system. Then, a sharp, metallic clang echoed from above.

It was followed by a rhythmic, heavy thudding against the metal grate of the ventilation shaft. It wasn't the sound of the wind. It was the sound of something heavy, something powerful, dragging itself across the ceiling.

Scritch. Scritch. Thump.

"They found the vent," Sarah whispered, her face draining of color.

Gabriel stood up, his hand moving automatically to his holster. He didn't look like a dying man anymore. He looked like a predator sensing a threat. He glanced at Wei Xian, the red in his eyes catching the dim emergency light.

"You said they’d have to go through you to get to the others," Gabriel said, his voice calm, dangerous. "Let’s see if that's still true."

The ventilation grate groaned. Bolts began to pop, one by one, like gunshots in the quiet room.

"Get behind the secondary bulkhead," Wei Xian commanded, pulling a flashbang from his belt. "This is going to be loud."

"Wait," Gabriel tilted his head, his eyes fixing on the ceiling. "It’s not just one."

Above them, the entire ceiling panel buckled. The sound of dozens of clicking, frantic voices poured down into the shaft.

"The whole nest," Wei Xian realized, his blood running cold. "They tracked our heat."

The grate fell, crashing to the floor, and a torrent of pale, rotting hands poured out from the darkness of the shaft like a waterfall of gore.