Harem Apocalypse: My Seed is the Cure?!

Chapter 375: Top Floor of the Piers Shops

"What’s wrong?" Summer asked the second we stepped into the main hall.

The space opened up wide around us in a big circular shape, the kind of place that probably looked impressive as hell before the world collapsed. Several escalators cut up through the center, stairs rose off to the sides, and storefronts ringed the whole floor from every direction. Open sightlines. Too many angles. Too much space.

Which also made it a perfect place to get boxed in.

And, right on cue, I could already see movement.

Infected were starting to gather below and around the edges, drawn in by us, drifting first, then fixing onto our position.

"Nothing," I said. "Let’s move."

Summer nodded and started up one of the dead escalators, taking the steps quickly. I followed for a few seconds, then stopped her halfway by catching her arm.

She turned and frowned at me. "What is it? You’ve been acting weird ever since I said I wanted to come back here."

I looked past her first, scanning the upper levels, then down again at the floor below where more Infected were starting to gather. "If memory serves," I said, "the last time you came here, you were running for your life from those fast Infected scared the hell out."

She gave me a flat look. "The last time I came back here, I recovered the shoes we dropped and everything went fine."

"That doesn’t make me feel better."

She kept staring at me, waiting.

I exhaled through my nose. "Fine. I felt something weird up there."

"Weird how?"

"The same kind of wrong I get around Starakian technology."

That got her full attention.

She looked up toward the top levels, then back at me. "That alien tech that’s made to kill Symbiote Hosts?"

"Made against us, yeah," I said. "But that doesn’t mean it’s harmless to normal people. If anything, it’s worse for you. You don’t have anything protecting you from it."

That shut her up for a second.

Summer raised her eyes toward the upper levels again, thinking now instead of teasing. "When you say top floor," she said, "which one? Because there’s the terrace level above the mall too."

"That’s the problem," I said. "I can’t place it exactly. I just know it’s above us."

And I hated that.

There was the top floor of the mall itself, then the terrace level above that meant for restaurants and whatever entertainment used to pull people up there. What I felt could’ve been coming from either one. All I knew was that every step higher we went, I’d be getting closer to it.

I looked at her again. "What do you even want up there this time? Last time it was shoes. Please tell me there’s something actually worth scavenging now. What kind of store is it?"

Summer’s mouth curved a little. "You’ll see. Just follow me."

"Summer."

I tightened my hand slightly on her arm to stop her from turning away again.

That made her finally take me seriously.

I wasn’t messing around. Not about this place. Not about that feeling. And definitely not with her. She was my friend, whether she liked hearing it put that plainly or not. On top of that, she was Marlon’s daughter, which made the whole thing even more complicated in ways I really didn’t need spelled out.

I didn’t want anything happening to her here.

Not because I’d have to explain it later.

Because I didn’t want it happening at all.

She looked at my hand on her arm, then back at my face. Her expression softened a little.

"Don’t worry," she said. "We’ll be quick. And you’re here to protect me with your superpowers, remember?"

I held her gaze for another second, then let out a breath.

"Alright," I said. "But if this turns bad, I’m dragging you out whether you like it or not."

"I know."

So I let go and followed her higher.

We moved fast up the escalator, then the next one, keeping ahead of the sounds rising from below. The Infected could follow us into the hall, but the escalators slowed them down badly. Their footing was terrible on the thick metal steps. The first ones trying to climb kept stumbling into each other, tangling their limbs, crashing forward, dragging others down with them in a pathetic pile of snarling bodies and grasping hands.

I didn’t laugh.

But I did feel a little better seeing it.

"Good," I muttered. "At least they’re stupid."

Summer glanced down once and gave a small grimace. "That’s disgusting."

"Better disgusting than fast."

We kept climbing.

The higher we got, the more that feeling came back.

Faint at first. Just a pressure behind my ribs, an itch under my skin, the same way certain Starakian things seemed to press against something in me without ever making physical contact. Then, step by step, it sharpened. Not pain. Not yet. More like my body recognizing something hostile before my mind could put shape to it.

I slowed without meaning to.

Summer noticed immediately. "You feel it again?"

"Yeah."

"Stronger?"

I nodded once.

That was enough to wipe the last of the joking mood off her face.

Now she stayed closer without me asking, one hand gripping the strap of her bag, her steps quieter than before. I kept my eyes moving the whole time. Upper railings. Dark storefronts. Open seating areas. Bits of broken glass. Too many blind spots. Too much room for something to come from the side while I was focused ahead.

The mall had gone quiet in that especially bad way.

When we finally reached the upper floor of the mall, I stopped.

Summer stopped too and looked at me at once, picking up on the change in my face.

I closed my eyes for a second and tried to feel it properly this time, not just the vague pull from before, but the exact direction of it. That same ugly pressure pressed against the inside of my skull, faint but steady, like something up there was humming in a language my body hated.

Then I lifted my head.

"It’s on the terrace level?" Summer asked.

"Yeah," I said, letting out a breath. Honestly, I felt a little relieved. "Yeah. It’s above us."

"Good. Then let’s go. It’s not far."

And before I could tell her not to bolt ahead again, she was already moving.

I swore under my breath and followed after her.

"Now can you tell me what you came here for?" I asked as we crossed the floor. "You dragged me all the way up here. I think I earned an explanation."

"You’ll see," she said over her shoulder.

Then she slowed just enough to glance at the corridor ahead, where a few Infected had already turned toward us from farther up near the access to the terrace.

"I’ve never gone this far before," she added. "Can you deal with them for me?"

I looked at her.

She looked back at me with an expression way too innocent for someone making requests like that.

"Yes, yes," I muttered.

I moved in front of her and tightened my grip on the hand axe.

The first Infected came at me clumsy and quick, dragging one foot just enough to ruin its balance. I stepped in before it could get close, buried the axe into the side of its head, yanked it free, and turned immediately toward the next one. Another lunged from the right. I shoved it back with my forearm, let it stumble into the railing, then split its skull before it could recover.

Behind me, Summer let out a low sound that was somewhere between impressed and disturbed.

"My god," she said, "you really move like some character in a movie."

I didn’t answer.

I just kept going.

There were too many to be careless with her standing behind me. Normally I could’ve moved faster, rushed the line, taken ugly risks and trusted myself to pull through. Not here. Not with Summer this close. So I stayed measured. Quick, but clean. No wasted swings. No charging blindly into anything I hadn’t checked first.

A corpse in a store uniform shambled out from a side entrance with one arm hanging wrong. I caught it across the neck, finished it with the back edge of the axe, then stepped away before another one could grab at my jacket. One came down from farther up with enough speed to be annoying, but not enough to be one of the real fast ones. I braced, let it commit, then drove my boot into its knee and finished it while it folded.

The whole time, I kept listening for anything worse.

No screaming. No rushing feet. No sign yet of one of those things moving in the dark.

Just the slow, ugly work of clearing a path.

It took longer than I wanted. Close to fifteen minutes by the time I was satisfied enough to let Summer move without me barking at her every two seconds. My shoulders had started burning from the repetition, and the hand axe felt heavier by the end of it, tacky in my grip from old blood and fresh.

Still, the way ahead was clear.

For now.

Summer stepped around the last body and hurried forward before I could stop her.

"Hey—"

She ignored me and ran ahead through the upper stretch leading toward the terrace access. I followed with a grimace, already expecting her to stop in front of some stupidly specific shop full of shoes or books or some random thing only she would cross half a dead mall for.

Instead, she stopped in front of a store with bright faded letters over the entrance.

Fun Birthday.

I stared at the sign for a second.

Then I looked at her.

Summer just smiled.

Not one of her smug smiles. Not one of the teasing ones. This one came out smaller, softer, almost excited in a way I hadn’t seen much from her. Before I could ask anything, she stepped inside and flicked on a torchlight.

The beam cut through the dark.

"Careful," I said automatically.

I pulled out my own torch, switched it on, and followed her in.

The store had that same stale smell the whole mall carried, but stronger here, dust, cardboard, old sugar, plastic, forgotten air. The light from our torches slid over shelves packed with party junk. Bright paper decorations. Packs of candles. Plastic plates. Banners. Balloons. Gift bags. Boxes shoved on higher shelves. There were still cartoon characters grinning off faded packaging like the world had never ended.

I lowered the axe a little and looked around in confusion.

"Alright," I said. "Explanation."

Summer was already sweeping her light across a display rack, checking labels and boxes with quick careful movements.

"Next week is Shannon’s birthday," she said.

I blinked.

"Wait. Seriously?"

She glanced back at me and nodded. "Yeah."

That actually caught me off guard.

For some reason, with everything going on, I hadn’t even thought about birthdays still existing. The world had gotten so ugly and practical that things like that felt like they belonged to some other life.

Summer kept moving through the store, a smile pulling at her mouth again. "I wanted to do something nice for her."

I watched her for a second without saying anything.

Then my light passed over the shelves again and I started understanding why she’d dragged me all the way up here. There really was everything. Decorations still in sealed packs. Balloons in bags. Candles in different colors. Plastic cake toppers. Ribbons. Even boxes and baking supplies shoved toward the back.

Summer had already crouched by one of the lower shelves and picked up a container. "And not just this stuff," she said. "There should be ingredients too. Chocolate, sugar, baking mixes, things like that. It’s only been three months since the outbreak. A lot of it might still be good."

She opened a carton, checked the date, then looked pleased.

"See? This one’s fine."

I couldn’t help it.

I smiled.

"That’s... actually really thoughtful," I said.

Summer looked up at me. "I know."

That made me snort.

"Of course that’s your answer."

She stood up, dusting off one knee. "So? Are you helping or are you just going to stand there being touched by how kind I am?"

"I’m helping," I said.

Then I swept my torch across the shelves again, this time seriously. "If we’re doing this, I guess we’re doing it properly. Big birthday. Decorations, balloons, candles, all of it."

Her smile widened at that.

"Exactly."

So we split up through the aisle, still close enough to keep each other in view, and started gathering whatever Shannon would need for the kind of birthday the world had no business allowing anymore. I reached up for a pack of colorful streamers while Summer checked another shelf for chocolate and candles.