None of this is changing with the seasons
autumn 1985
Julianna was six again.
The hallway was long and dim, the fluorescent lights above flickering faintly, buzzing like trapped flies. The walls were an unwelcoming shade of beige, stained and peeling in some places. She swung her legs nervously from the too-high plastic chair she sat in, the heels of her sneakers occasionally tapping the tiled floor in rhythm with her uneven breaths. The air smelled rubber and sterile, with a faint undertone of something sour she didn't have a name for then.
Her mother was pacing. Quiet, but pacing. Her heels clicked against the tiles, a strained metronome to the anxiety Julianna could feel bubbling beneath the surface. There was a clipboard in her hand, though Julianna didn't know what it said. All she knew was her mother's face—tight, drawn, eyes glassy but focused. She had looked like that for weeks now, but here, it was worse.
"They said it's risky," her mother murmured, more to herself than anyone else, though her voice still felt like it pressed on Julianna's chest. "But it's our only chance."
Her dad was behind those double doors. She stared at them, unblinking. They had wheeled him through earlier, his face pale and slick with sweat. His breath had been shallow and wet, and he hadn't said much to her, just smiled faintly and told her to 'be brave.' That smile hadn't reached his eyes. She had clutched her stuffed hedgehog, nodding as if she understood.
"Multiple... Multiple System Atr-something." She didn't remember the full words, only the way they made her mother's voice crack when she repeated them to someone on the phone weeks earlier. The words had stuck, floating around in Julianna's head like loose threads she didn't know what to do with.
Her mother paused her pacing, signing the clipboard with a jerky, decisive motion before thrusting it toward the waiting doctor. His voice was deep, calm, too calm. He talked about things Julianna didn't understand—something about nerves, organs, and 'transplantation.' His words were heavy and hard, dropping into her ears like stones. She looked at him, at the white coat he wore, and decided she didn't like him.
A hand on her shoulder, small, familiar. She looked to her side and saw Jeff. He sat next to her, his face pale and worried in a way that didn't fit on him. His hand squeezed her shoulder reassuringly, though his fingers were trembling. "It's gonna be okay, Jules," he whispered, his voice barely above a breath. "You're gonna help him."
The words didn't sit right. Help him. The doctors had said something like that, too, hadn't they? Something about how she could do it, how it had to be her. A small girl with small veins but the right blood. Her dad's chance. She didn't understand what it all meant, but she had nodded, like a good girl, because everyone had been so serious when they explained it to her.
And then they took her to a room.
The bed was cold beneath her, the crinkly paper underneath her legs making her squirm. A nurse hovered nearby, talking softly, saying something Julianna didn't register. Her hands fidgeted in her lap, twisting her fingers until they ached. Jeff hadn't been allowed to come with her, and she had wanted to ask why, but her throat felt stuck.
She stared at the ceiling, her small body still, though her mind was buzzing.
Then the room began to shift.
The ceiling lights dimmed and flared, an erratic pulse that felt like it synced with her heartbeat. The air grew heavier, thicker, pressing against her chest. The nurse was gone, but she couldn't remember when she had left. The door wasn't closed anymore, it wasn't even there.
And then there was a voice.
"Julianna."
It was soft, warm, familiar. She blinked, sitting up. Her father stood at the foot of the bed, his outline blurry, like she was looking at him underwater. His face was pale and gaunt, just like it had been on the gurney, but his smile was too wide, stretching unnaturally across his face.
"You didn't save me, Jules."
Her breath hitched, her little fingers gripping the edges of the bed. "I—" Her voice came out small, trembling. "I tried—"
"Did you?" His tone was playful, almost mocking, and he tilted his head as he spoke, his body suddenly jerking forward a step. His hand, pale and skeletal, reached out toward her. "You were supposed to help me. But you didn't. Look what you did."
There was blood now, dark, sticky, pooling at his feet and spreading across the floor in tendrils that seemed to reach for her. She tried to scramble backward, but her legs wouldn't move, her body frozen as his smile grew sharper, darker. His chest was soaked in red, the fabric clinging to him like a second skin. His words echoed in her ears, overlapping and twisting, becoming nonsensical.
"You didn't save me. Y͟o͟u͟ ͟d͟i͟d͟n͟'͟t͟ ͟ You didn't. You didn't. ɎØɄ ₭łⱠⱠɆĐ ₥Ɇ ."
She opened her mouth to scream, but no sound came out. The blood reached her feet now, warm and wet, climbing her skin like it had a mind of its own.
And then he wasn't smiling anymore. His eyes were hollow, sunken pits of nothing, and his body collapsed into the blood, dissolving like sand into the tide.
The sound of the monitor flatlining rang in her ears.
She gasped and sat upright, heart pounding, liquid dripping down her temple, her chest heaving as she gulped in air like she previously had it restricted . Her body felt damp—sweat clinging to her skin despite the crisp morning chill in the forest. She blinked rapidly, disoriented, her eyes darting around the now-muted surroundings. The eerie bioluminescence was gone, replaced by a dull, grayish light filtering through the trees. Dawn had long since passed, and the sky above was pale blue, daylight, soft but unforgiving.
The dream was already slipping through her fingers like smoke. But the feeling lingered, the fear, the guilt. Always the guilt.
It hadn't been a dream. Not really. It was a memory, distorted and bleeding together with her own subconscious. And no matter how much time passed, she couldn't shake the feeling that she had failed him. That it had all been her fault. It always would be.
"Julianna?"
The voice grounded her before anything else did. Warm and low, cutting through the haze of her mind. She turned her head slightly, her body still trembling from the remnants of the nightmare, and saw Natalie crouched beside her.
Natalie's hands were on her. One was braced on Julianna's shoulder, the other curled around her forearm, steady and firm. The contact was startling. No one ever touched Julianna like that—not casually, not softly. The warmth of Natalie's palms seeped into her, calming the shivers wracking her limbs. Her breath hitched again, but this time it wasn't from panic.
"You're okay," Natalie murmured, her gaze sharp but full of something else—concern, maybe. "You're fine. Breathe."
Julianna tried, but her chest felt tight, constricted, like the air couldn't find the space it needed. She closed her eyes for a moment, focusing on Natalie's hands. The roughness of her calloused fingers, the solid touch of them grounding her. It was strange, disarming. No one was ever this close. Not Misty, not even Jeff, as much as Julianna adored them.
"I—" Julianna's voice cracked, barely audible. She swallowed hard, her throat dry. "I'm fine."
"You're not," Natalie said, her tone blunt but not unkind. "But it's okay. Whatever that was, it's over." She gave Julianna's arm the faintest squeeze, as if to anchor her. "You're here."
The words hit her more than they should have, sharp and tender all at once. Julianna exhaled shakily, her shoulders dropping slightly as the tension began to ebb. She glanced down, realizing for the first time how tightly she'd been gripping the hem of her sweatshirt. Her knuckles were white.
"It felt so real," she admitted quietly, not looking at Natalie. Her voice wavered, embarrassment creeping in despite the fact that Natalie was just trying to help.
"What did?" Natalie's voice was gentler now, her hand not moving from Julianna's arm. She didn't press, didn't demand, just asked. Like it was safe to answer.
Julianna hesitated, her lips pressing together. "A dream. I think. But it wasn't just a dream. It was a memory. From when I was a kid." Her voice grew quieter with each word, as if saying it out loud made it more fragile, more real. "It was my dad."
Natalie didn't say anything at first. Her eyes softened, her fingers brushing lightly against Julianna's wrist.
Julianna flinched, not at the touch but at the tenderness in her tone. It was too much, too close. "It doesn't matter," she muttered quickly, trying to push herself up to sitting. But Natalie's hand on her shoulder kept her from moving too fast.
"It does matter," Natalie said firmly, not unkindly. "But fine. If you don't wanna talk about it, I'm not gonna make you. Just stop trying to hide everything all the time, okay? You don't have to do that."
Julianna looked at her then, really looked at her, and for a moment, the tightness in her chest eased. Natalie wasn't looking at her with pity. It was something else, something harder to name but no less powerful.
"Okay," Julianna whispered. Her voice cracked again, but she didn't care this time. "Okay."
Natalie gave her a small nod, then finally let go of her arm. The absence of her touch was almost as startling as the touch itself had been. Julianna had to resist the urge to reach out and pull her back, to keep that warmth a little longer.
Instead, she sat up fully, her eyes flicking to Javi. He was curled on his side a few feet away, his face pressed into his arms, still fast asleep. His chest rose and fell steadily, his quiet breaths a comfort against the overwhelming noise still lingering in her mind.
"Guessing it's like... eight or nine," Natalie said, glancing up at the sky through the trees. She stood slowly, squinting, stretching, and brushed the dirt off her knees. "We should wake him soon, though. We gotta keep moving."
Julianna nodded, her fingers absently brushing against the grass beneath her. "Yeah. Okay."
But even as she agreed, her mind lingered on the feel of Natalie's hands, the way they'd steadied her when she hadn't realized how unsteady she'd been.
The forest felt eerily quiet as the three of them sat in a loose circle, the events of the past few hours pressing heavy on their shoulders. Javi stirred first, his face scrunched with sleep, then slowly blinked awake. His wide, brown eyes darted around before settling on Julianna, who offered a faint, reassuring smile.
"Are you feeling okay?" she said softly, her voice rasping from the strain that lingered in her chest.
Javi nodded, sitting up and rubbing his face with both hands. "Yeah... just tired." His gaze flicked nervously toward the forest around them. "Are we... are we safe?"
"As safe as we can be," Natalie cut in, leaning back on her hands. Her sharp eyes scanned their surroundings, always watchful. "For now, at least. But we can't stay here long."
Javi frowned and looked between them. "What are we going to do? How are we going to find everyone?"
Julianna felt her throat tighten as she glanced at Natalie. No one had an easy answer, but they couldn't sit here in silence, waiting for someone, or something, to find them.
"I don't know," Natalie admitted, running a hand through her messy blonde hair, exhaling in response to the exhaustion deteriorating her too. "The radio was in Misty's bag. We don't have a way to contact anyone."
"Not Misty, not the others at the high school, not Kansas City," Julianna murmured, her tone laced with frustration. She hated how helpless it made them. How helpless it made her feel. "Even if we did, we don't even know where anyone is right now."
Javi's shoulders slumped, his hands tightening into fists in his lap. "So... what? Do we just wander around until we run into them?"
"Not exactly." Julianna reached into her jacket pocket, feeling the crinkled edges of the map she had taken from the base. She pulled it out carefully and unfolded it on the ground in front of them. "I grabbed this when we were in the TBC base," she said, motioning toward the faintly printed title at the top: The Bastion Collective.
Natalie raised an eyebrow. "You didn't think to mention this earlier?"
"I... forgot," Julianna said defensively, though her cheeks flushed. "We've been a little busy. Anyway—look."
She smoothed the paper out, revealing two sides: one that outlined the military base they had escaped from, and the other, a broader map of Allentown. Both were marked with neat lines and sections, places claimed by the Collective. The entire city had been split into grids, each labeled with specific codes and symbols. It wasn't hard to see their intent: the entire area was under their control.
Javi leaned closer, staring at the map with wide eyes. "They took over everything..."
"Seems like it," Natalie muttered grimly, her fingers tracing one of the grids. "This isn't just a little operation. These guys mean business. And we were in the middle of their city."
Julianna nodded, her eyes flicking between the map and her companions. "We can't stay in Allentown. That much is obvious. They're probably already looking for us." She paused, hesitant, then added, "But Kansas City... it's still the plan, right? That's where we were all supposed to meet up."
"Yeah," Natalie said, leaning back again and crossing her arms. "If the others got away, and they probably did, then it makes sense they'd stick to the plan and head for Kansas City. It's the most logical choice."
Javi glanced between them nervously. "What if... what if they're not going there? What if they go somewhere else?"
"They won't," Natalie said firmly, though her tone softened slightly when she saw the worry in his face. "They know we'd all end up lost if we didn't stick to the plan. Kansas City is the best shot we've got. And it's not like we're gonna stop looking for them once we get there."
"Exactly," Julianna agreed, though her voice faltered slightly. She wasn't as sure as she wanted to sound, but she didn't want Javi to feel more scared than he already did. "We'll keep heading that way. If we don't cross paths with them sooner, we'll figure something out once we're there. We know that they have the working radio or whatever it is in Kansas City. We'll find a way."
Javi stared down at the map for a long moment, his lips pressed tightly together. Then he nodded. "Okay. Kansas City."
"Good," Natalie said, already moving to pack up her things. "But we need to get moving soon. The longer we sit here, the more likely they'll find us. And something tells me the TBC doesn't take kindly to escapees."
Julianna folded the map carefully and tucked it back into her pocket. She glanced at Javi, who still looked unsure but resolute, and then at Natalie, who was fixing her headband and already scanning their surroundings like she expected soldiers, or infected, to burst through the trees at any moment.
"We'll make it," Julianna said quietly, more to herself than to anyone else. But she caught Javi's eye as she spoke, and he gave her a small, hesitant smile. It wasn't at all reassuring, but it was enough to make her believe, even for a moment, that maybe they would.