Chapter 11: Escalation

Evelyn stood at the edge of the community center, looking out at the smoke rising from the far end of the city. The flames flickered in the distance, consuming what little remained of the world she had known. The air felt thick, polluted by fear, as if the very sky was holding its breath before everything collapsed. The sounds of distant sirens, shouting, and the crackling of fires were a constant reminder of how little time they had left.

The center was no longer a place of refuge—it was a battleground, a fragile haven teetering on the edge of survival. Inside, the people who had once trusted in the Collective’s leadership were now beginning to question everything. It wasn’t just the lack of resources or the endless fights over what little they had left—it was the knowledge that the end was closing in. They had all seen it coming, but now that it was here, the fear was palpable.

And then there was Liam.

She hadn’t seen him since the night he’d made his decision to leave. The weight of his absence hung over her like a cloud she couldn’t shake. There had been no dramatic farewell, no promises to return. He had simply walked out, leaving behind an emptiness she couldn’t fill. His departure had not only left a hole in her heart but in the center’s leadership. Liam had been the optimistic voice, the one who reminded her that they could hold it together even when everything seemed impossible. Now, with him gone, it was up to Evelyn to keep the remaining pieces from falling apart.

But she was running out of pieces.

The refugees continued to arrive in droves, each group more desperate than the last. Every day, more people crowded the hallways, the dining area, the small rooms where they used to have community meetings. There was no space left. No food. No answers.

Evelyn’s thoughts were interrupted by the shrill ring of her phone. She reached for it, her fingers shaking as she answered.

"Ev," Mara’s voice was frantic on the other end. "It’s getting worse. They’re trying to breach the gates."

Evelyn’s heart skipped a beat. "What do you mean, breach the gates?"

"I mean there’s a mob outside," Mara said, her voice tight with panic. "They’re demanding food, water… and they’re not listening to us anymore. They’re angry. I don’t know how much longer we can keep them out."

Evelyn’s breath caught in her throat. The gates—the last line of defense. They had always assumed that they could control the flow of people, that they could provide just enough for everyone to survive. But now, even the gates that had once seemed impenetrable were no match for the desperation of those outside.

"I’ll be there in five minutes," Evelyn said, already moving toward the main entrance.

When she arrived, she found a chaotic scene. The front gates, reinforced with whatever materials they could gather, were being battered by a crowd of people. Some were shouting, others were pounding their fists against the gates, and a few were trying to scale the walls, their faces twisted with desperation.

"Get back!" one of the guards shouted, brandishing a baton. "We can’t let you in!"

Evelyn pushed her way through the crowd, her heart hammering in her chest. She couldn’t see Mara or the others, but the scene was overwhelming. Her thoughts spun wildly, but the one thing she knew for certain was that they couldn’t let the gates fall. Not now, not when they were so close to the edge.

She turned to one of the guards. "Where’s Mara?"

The guard looked around in panic. "She’s trying to negotiate with them, but they won’t listen. They keep demanding food and water."

Evelyn’s mind raced. If they let anyone else in, they risked overwhelming the already fragile system. But if they didn’t, the crowd would turn violent. And if the situation escalated, it could mean the collapse of everything they had worked for.

"We can’t keep this up," the guard said, his voice trembling. "If we don’t do something soon, they’ll tear the gates down."

Evelyn’s breath quickened. The walls around her seemed to close in, the weight of the decision too much to bear. She thought of the people inside—those who had trusted her to keep them safe. If they opened the gates, they would risk everything. But if they didn’t, the consequences could be even worse.

"Ev!" Mara’s voice cut through the chaos. She appeared at the edge of the crowd, her face pale and drawn. "We can’t keep them out. We need to open the gates, or they’ll storm the place."

Evelyn’s heart sank. It was the one thing she had been trying to avoid. But now, it seemed like there was no other option. "How many are there?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Too many," Mara said, her voice cracking. "We’ve already turned so many away, and the rest are getting angry. They’re starting to chant for food, water... and they’re not leaving until they get it."

Evelyn stared at the gates. Her mind felt frozen, the weight of the decision too much to bear. What would happen if they let them in? Would they all survive? Or would it be the final spark that set everything ablaze?

"I’ll make the call," Evelyn said finally, her voice firm despite the fear in her heart. "We let them in. But we need to do it slowly. One group at a time. We don’t have enough to feed everyone, but we can offer shelter for a while longer. They’ll have to understand that we’re doing the best we can."

Mara nodded, relief flooding her face, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. "Thank you, Ev. We’ll get them inside and make sure things don’t get out of hand."

Evelyn took a deep breath, her gaze shifting to the angry mob outside the gates. She knew it wasn’t enough. There was never enough. But for now, it was all she could give.

As the gates creaked open, a new wave of refugees poured in. Their faces were grim, their clothes torn, their bodies hollow from days of hunger and thirst. As they flooded into the center, Evelyn could feel the shift—the point of no return. They had crossed a line, and there was no going back now.

Inside, the center was already stretched to its breaking point. There were no more rooms, no more space to give. The people who had arrived earlier were already growing restless, eyeing the newcomers with suspicion and fear.

Evelyn watched as the refugees filed in, some looking around in confusion, others scanning the crowd for any signs of hope. But Evelyn knew better. Hope was a currency they had all run out of.

The gates were open, and the floodgates of survival had been breached. There was no telling what would happen next.