Page 153 of My Undead Love Life

My throat tightened. “Yes,” I whispered.

Sofia nodded. “Of course you have. But your question why? That’s the key.”

“She’s insane,” Luck whispered to Oxi.

“Yeah,” Oxi murmured back. “But like…helpful insane.”

“I’m going to eradicate it,” Sofia continued, like she hadn’t heard them. There was no way she hadn’t. Every light in the lab seemed to hum around her words. “Every last trace. That’s the goal.”

The room went quiet. There was something in her eyes. Not just determination. Obsession. She had the kind of obsession that kept someone alive when loneliness should have devoured them. It was the kind that could save the world. Or break itself trying.

Keith stepped closer to one of the screens, his awe shifting into concentration. “You’ve mapped the mutation spread?”

“Partially,” Sofia blurted. “It’s evolving faster than expected, but I’m adapting as fast as it is. Mostly. Sometimes it wins the week. I win the month. Usually.”

Mad looked at the lab around us. “You’ve been doing this alone?”

Sofia’s hand paused over a tablet. Then, she smiled again, too brightly. “Not entirely. I have machines.”

“That isn’t what he asked,” I said softly.

Her gaze met mine, but there was a darkness in it. “Machines interrupt less.”

Something about that bothered me more than I expected.

I felt bad for her. She clearly cared about humanity. She had built this place into a fortress of science and survival, but she was going at it alone, surrounded by notes and samples and voices on radios that worshipped monsters.

“Actually,” Sofia said abruptly, “before we go any further, sit.” She pointed toward a row of metal benches with soft cushions lined along the wall. “All of you. Right this second.”

Mad looked like he wanted to refuse, but his body betrayed him by swaying slightly.

“Sit,” Sofia repeated. “That wasn’t a suggestion. You’re all running on intense cold exposure, calorie deficit, dehydration, I’m assuming grief, adrenaline, and what I also assume is a complicated romantic structure.”

Luck slowly sat. “She got all that from looking at us?”

Sofia grabbed a large plastic bin from under a counter. “The romantic structure and grief was a guess. The rest is obvious.”

We sat.

The moment my body hit the cushion, I realized just how cold I still was. The bunker was warm, but the warmth hadn’t fully sunk in. My muscles remained locked in survival mode. My shoulders ached from being hunched against the wind for hours. My hands trembled in my lap.

Keith sat close enough that his thigh pressed against mine.

Oxi was on my other side. Luck sat beside him, already trying to pretend his leg wasn’t bothering him. Mad took the end of the bench, still positioned where he could see every door.

Sofia disappeared briefly and came back with a handheld scanner, a thermos, a medical kit, and a lot of energy. “Hands out,” she instructed.

We obeyed.

She moved down the line quickly, scanning each of us with efficient movements. The device beeped softly as it passed over our skin.

“Core temperatures seem to be recovering. Mild cold burns. No open infected wounds visible. No active bite signatures still. It’s nice to do a second test.” She passed the scanner over Mad, then Keith, then Oxi. “Several scars. Many bruises. Exhaustion.”

Luck perked up slightly. “Can it detect our lack of sleep?”

“No. Your faces can.” Sofia moved to me, taking my hands in hers. Her fingers were warm. She turned my hands over, studying the tips of my fingers and the faint redness along my knuckles. “Cold burns,” she noted. “But you’ll be fine. Pain?”

“Some.”