Day 5: Safety...

As the first light of dawn began to filter through the boarded-up windows, Ethan stirred from his fitful sleep. He'd taken the last watch, allowing the others to rest as much as possible.

Ethan carefully untangled himself from Zoe, who had curled up next to him during the night. He gently shook her awake, then moved to rouse the others. As the group began to stir, Ethan pulled out his map, comparing it to Zoe's sketches from the night before.

"Alright, listen up," he said softly, gathering everyone around. "We're about an hour and a half from the marina at our current pace. There's a clinic and pharmacy about 30 minutes from here. We'll head there first, see what supplies we can scavenge. Then we'll get back on the main street and make a straight shot to the marina."

The group nodded, and as they packed up their meager belongings and prepared to move out, Ethan pulled Zoe aside.

"You're going to stay right behind me, okay?" he said, his voice low. "No matter what happens, you stay close. Got it?"

Zoe nodded solemnly, her hand instinctively moving to the hilt of her machete. Ethan felt a pang in his chest at the sight. She was too young for this, too young to be carrying a weapon and fighting for survival.

They moved out in formation, Ethan taking point with Zoe close behind. Mike brought up the rear, his eyes constantly scanning for threats. The streets were eerily quiet as they made their way towards the clinic, the only sounds their muffled footsteps and the occasional distant cry of a bird.

As they approached the Home Depot, Ethan held up a fist, signaling the group to stop. He peered around the corner, his keen eyes searching for any sign of movement. Seeing nothing, he waved the group forward.

They continued west, the landmarks of their city now twisted and strange. As they drew closer to the clinic, Ethan began to notice subtle changes. The debris on the streets seemed less random, as if it had been deliberately cleared in some areas.

Then, in the distance, he saw it. A figure moving on a rooftop, the unmistakable silhouette of a rifle visible against the sky. Ethan's heart raced. Military presence.

"Eyes up," he whispered to the group. "We've got company. Military, looks like. Stay alert."

As they continued, more signs of military presence became evident. Figures in combat gear patrolled the streets in the distance. Ethan saw more lookouts on rooftops, their binoculars scanning the area.

Finally, they reached the clinic. Red tape marked the ground in front of the building, creating a perimeter. And then Ethan heard it - a faint, almost imperceptible hum. His eyes widened as he realized what it meant.

"This is it," he said, his voice tight as he whispered. "This must be one of the safe corridors they mentioned. The sound emitters."

The group paused at the edge of the taped area, uncertainty written on their faces. Ethan took a deep breath and stepped forward, crossing the line. The hum grew slightly louder, a constant, soothing vibration that seemed to surround them.

Inside the perimeter, the change was immediate and startling. People moved about openly, their voices at normal volume. There was no sign of the Death Angels, no atmosphere of constant fear.

Military personnel moved in and out, carrying supplies and equipment. Civilians waited in lines, receiving medical attention and supplies. It was a scene of near-normalcy that felt almost surreal.

The others in the group surged forward, their faces alight with relief. They began to pepper the nearest soldiers with questions, their voices rising in excitement. Ethan, however, held back, something felt off, though he couldn't quite put his finger on what.

He scanned the crowd, searching for any sign of Megan, but his sister's face was nowhere to be seen. Zoe tugged at his sleeve, her eyes wide as she took in the scene around them.

Ethan knelt down beside her. "What do you think, kiddo?" he asked softly. "Should we stay here or keep moving?"

Zoe's eyes darted around, taking in the busy clinic, the relieved faces of their companions, the efficient movements of the military personnel. Then she looked back at Ethan, her gaze steady and determined. She pointed down the road, in the direction of the marina.

Ethan nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. "I think you're right," he said. "We keep moving. The marina's still our best bet."

He straightened up, moving to where the others were eagerly talking with a group of soldiers. "Hey," he said, cutting through their excited chatter. "We need to keep moving. The marina's not far now."

Margaret turned to him, her eyes bright with hope. "But Ethan, look at this place. It's safe here. We could stay, get proper medical attention. Maybe even find a way to contact our families."

Ethan shook his head. "This is temporary," he said firmly. "The marina is our best chance for real evacuation. We need to keep going."

The others looked uncertain, glancing between Ethan and the relative safety of the clinic. Mike stepped forward, his face set in a grim expression of understanding.

"Ethan's right," he said. "We've come this far. We stick to the plan."

Arthur scoffed. "You two can go on your suicide mission if you want. I'm staying here where it's safe."

Sara and Jack exchanged a look, then turned to Ethan. "We... we think we'll stay too," Sara said softly, her hand resting protectively on her stomach. "For the baby's sake."

Ethan nodded, understanding in his eyes. "Alright," he said. "You do what you think is best. But we're moving on." He looked at Timothy and Margaret. "What about you two?"

Timothy fidgeted with his cross, looking torn. "I... I think I'll stay," he said finally. "Maybe I can help here, offer spiritual guidance to those in need."

Margaret hesitated, her eyes moving between the clinic and Ethan. Finally, she sighed. "I'm coming with you," she said. "They've got enough medical personnel here. I might be more use out there."

Ethan nodded, he turned to those staying behind, his face solemn. "Good luck," he said. "Stay safe. If we find anything at the marina, we'll try to send help back this way."

With final hugs and tearful goodbyes, Ethan, Zoe, Mike, and Margaret prepared to leave the safety of the sound corridor. As they stepped back across the red tape, the comforting hum faded away, replaced once again by the eerie silence of the death-haunted city.

Ethan took point, his eyes constantly scanning their surroundings.

As they moved deeper into the city, something felt... off. Ethan couldn't quite put his finger on it, but years of training had honed his instincts. He held up a closed fist, signaling the group to stop. His eyes narrowed as he surveyed the street ahead.

That's when he saw it. A group of people, walking openly down the middle of the road. They were talking, their voices carrying on the still air. Ethan's heart raced. What were they thinking? Didn't they know the danger?

But as the moments ticked by, no Death Angels appeared. The group continued on their way, seemingly unconcerned.

Ethan exchanged a bewildered look with Mike. Something wasn't right. He pulled out his small whiteboard, scribbling quickly:

"SOMETHING'S WRONG. NO DEATH ANGELS. STAY ALERT."

The others nodded, tension visible in their postures. They continued on, moving more quickly now, but still maintaining their silence out of ingrained habit.

As they progressed, they encountered more people behaving as if the world hadn't ended. Children played in overgrown parks, their laughter echoing off empty buildings. A group of men worked to clear debris from a street, calling instructions to each other without lowering their voices.

It was as if they had stepped into a parallel universe, one where the nightmare of the past months had never happened.

After what felt like an eternity of surreal normalcy, they rounded a corner and the marina came into view. Ethan's jaw dropped.

The entire waterfront had been transformed into a massive military installation in just 5 days. High walls of prefabricated materials and sandbags surrounded the area. Atop these walls, Ethan could see the distinctive shapes of sound emitters - far larger and more numerous than any he had encountered before.

Military vehicles of all types were parked in neat rows. In the harbor beyond, warships were anchored.

As they approached the main gate, a soldier stepped forward, his rifle held casually but ready. "Halt and identify yourselves," he called out.

Ethan raised his hands slowly, motioning for the others to do the same. "We're survivors," he said, his own voice sounding strange to his ears after so long speaking in whispers. "We heard about the extraction point at the marina."

The soldier nodded, his posture relaxing slightly. "You heard right. Welcome to Safe Zone Alpha. We'll need to process you, standard procedure. Any weapons need to be declared now."

As they surrendered their weapons and prepared to enter the compound, a commotion near one of the inner gates caught Ethan's attention. A group of people were emerging, medical personnel by the looks of their attire. Among them, a familiar face that made Ethan's heart leap.

"Megan?" he breathed, hardly daring to believe it.

His sister's head snapped up at the sound of her name. Her eyes widened in disbelief, then filled with tears. "Ethan? Zoe?!"

What followed was a blur of motion and emotion. Megan sprinted towards them, protocol forgotten as she threw her arms around Zoe, pulling her into a fierce embrace. Sobs wracked her body as she held her daughter close, her hands running over Zoe's face and hair as if to convince herself this wasn't a dream.

Ethan stood back, his own eyes misting over as he watched the reunion. After a long moment, Megan looked up at him, her tear-streaked face breaking into a radiant smile. She reached out, pulling him into the embrace.

"I thought... I thought I'd lost you both," she choked out between sobs.

Ethan held his sister and niece tightly, allowing himself a moment of vulnerability. "We're here," he murmured. "We made it."

As the initial wave of emotion subsided, Megan pulled back, wiping her eyes. "How did you get here? When did you arrive?"

"Just now," Ethan replied. "We've been making our way across the city. Megan, how long have you been here?"

Megan took a deep breath, composing herself. "It's a long story. I was with a group of survivors when we were found by a military patrol. They had some kind of portable sound emitter. They brought us to a pickup point where a helicopter deployed a larger device, creating a safe zone for evacuation."

She gestured at her medical attire. "They needed all the medical personnel they could get. Guess I finally got that nurse job, huh?" She attempted a weak joke, her voice still thick with emotion.

As they talked, a small crowd had gathered, curious about the new arrivals and the emotional reunion. A man in a crisp military uniform approached, his bearing marking him as someone in authority.

"Mrs. Ryder," he said, his tone respectful but firm. "I understand this is a joyous occasion, but we need to follow proper procedures. Your family members need to go through intake and medical screening."

Megan nodded, straightening her posture. "Of course, Colonel. I'll escort them myself, if that's alright."

The colonel nodded his assent, then turned his attention to Ethan. His eyes narrowed slightly as he took in Ethan's bearing and the way he carried himself. "You military, son?"

Ethan hesitated for a fraction of a second. He could feel Mike's eyes on him, knew his old friend was aware of his full background. But something held him back from full disclosure.

"Ex-military, sir," he replied carefully. "Did my time, got out a few years back. Nothing special."

The colonel nodded, seemingly satisfied. "Well, we can use all the experienced hands we can get. Once you're cleared, report to Lieutenant Hawkins for assignment."

As they were led away for processing, Ethan's mind raced. The scale of the operation here was far beyond anything he had imagined. As they walked, Megan began to explain more about the sound emitters.

"It's still early days," she said, her voice low. "But from what I've gathered, they've found a way to create large-scale sound barriers that the Death Angels can't penetrate. Like actively repel them."

Ethan frowned. "But how?"

Megan shrugged. "I'm not privy to all the details, but apparently, they're using a complex, constantly shifting frequency pattern. It's like... imagine trying to walk through a wall that keeps changing its shape and density. The Death Angels can't figure out how to get past it and if they try to…."

"Have you seen any of them?" Mike asked. "The Death Angels, I mean. Around the perimeter?"

Megan shook her head. "No, they avoid this area entirely now. In the early days, a few tried to breach the perimeter. They were... dispatched quickly." She shuddered slightly at the memory.

"Killed?" Ethan pressed. "How? And where are the bodies? I haven't seen any evidence of dead Death Angels since we arrived."

A shadow passed over Megan's face. "They take them," she said softly. "For research. I don't know the details, and frankly, I don't want to. But whatever they're learning is helping to keep us safe."