The Infection — Chapter 1: The Party

By Nin Nin and KillSwitch

I’ve never liked crowds. Too many voices, too many eyes. Looking back, maybe I felt it even then, that faint pressure in the air, like the world itself was holding its breath.

“Did you reach, Angela?” Nate’s voice came through the car speaker, warm but distant.

“Yes, I did,” I said. “It’s already so crowded.”

“Of course it is. You’ve been excited about this party all week,” he laughed.

“I was only excited because I thought you’d be here,” I murmured, cheeks warming even though he couldn’t see me.

There was a pause. “Ann, I’m sorry. The meeting came up last minute. They needed me on the road.”

“You always have something at the last minute,” I whispered, sharper than I meant.

“I know.” His voice softened, coaxing. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

I sighed. “It’s fine. Just come soon, okay?”

“I will. Where are you now?”

“Still in the car.”

“Then go inside. They’re probably waiting for you.”

“I know. It’s just… a lot of people. That’s Mrs. Langsmith for you. She never does anything small.”

“That’s true,” he chuckled. Then, after a beat: “What about Sara? Is she okay?”

“She’s fine,” I said, relieved to change the subject. “She’s with Joshua tonight.”

“Joshua,” Nate muttered, drawing out the name. “Bet he loved that arrangement.”

“Don’t start,” I warned gently, though a smile tugged at my lips.

“Hey, I’m just saying, the guy’s what, forty-two? And you…”

“…am not talking about this with you right now,” I cut in, laughing despite myself. “It’s complicated.”

“Yeah, yeah. I know you love her,” Nate said, softer this time. “That’s what matters.”

“It is,” I whispered, my chest tightening.

Then I noticed movement, someone waving across the lot. Jasmine.

“Oh, Nate, I should go. Jasmine saw me.”

“Alright. Be safe, Ann. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

The call ended with a soft click, leaving me alone with my own breathing.

My name’s Angela. I work as an accounting clerk at a medical firm, though I don’t plan on staying there forever. Hospitals make my skin crawl and the smell of disinfectant always turns my stomach. Most days I drown in files and numbers; most nights I study, hoping for something better. At least I have Sara, my almost-fourteen-year-old stepdaughter, even if she’s spending tonight with her dad, Joshua. And then there’s Nate, not her favorite person, but mine.

I pushed open the car door, smoothed the wrinkles from my dress, and stepped into the cool evening air. Jasmine was standing by her car, still waving, her bright smile waiting for me. Then she suddenly looked up at the sky, her hand frozen mid-wave.

“Did you see that?” she asked, squinting. “There was this green light… and now it’s gone.” She laughed, shaking her head. “Probably nothing.”

I glanced up too, but saw nothing. When I looked back at her, confused, she just grinned and waved harder. “Anyway, never mind that, heyyyy Angelaaa!”

I laughed and waved back. “Heyyy Jasmineee,” I said, matching her tone.

“What were you doing in the car?” she giggled.

“Nothing really. Nate called.” I smiled.

Jasmine’s the kind of girl everyone notices. Curly hair, long legs, and that easy confidence that makes people want to be around her. With a name like Jasmine, you’d think she’d be Middle Eastern, but nope, she’s as white as they come.

“Ohhh, Nate,” she smirked, raising her eyebrows. “And where’s he hiding?”

“Work. Last-minute stuff,” I said as we started walking toward the house.

“Well, that’s fine. I got you.” Jasmine threw her arm around me, practically bouncing. “Tonight’s gonna be fun!”

I just smiled. That’s Jasmine, all energy, all the time.

“So, how are you two doing? I heard you moved in together?” she asked.

“Yeah… last month.”

“That’s amazing, Angela.” She squeezed me with that big grin of hers.

By then we’d reached the house, a big three-story place lit up like Christmas. Music thumped from inside, though the lawn was strangely quiet. Mrs. Langsmith sure was rich. I mean, who else had a house this big and still made it feel warm? She could throw the loudest parties and somehow keep the neighbors happy.

It was then I noticed her. A girl standing off to the side of the porch, half in shadow, her gaze fixed on the sky where Jasmine had pointed earlier. Her lips moved soundlessly, like she was whispering to herself, praying, or chanting, or maybe just talking to no one. The words didn’t carry to where I stood, but the way she swayed, almost in rhythm with the thrum of the air, sent a shiver down my arms.

“Angela?” Jasmine tugged me toward the door, breaking my stare.

When I glanced back, the girl was already gone.

We walked up to the door. Margaret Langsmith was written neatly on the little nameplate. I smiled as I pressed the bell, wondering if anyone inside could even hear it over the music.

The door swung open a moment later.

“Angela, you made it!” Mrs. Langsmith said, her voice warm and cheerful. She had to be around fifty, but you’d never guess it looking at her or the way she carried herself. Her dark skin seemed to glow under the porch light, and with her braids pulled neatly back, she looked like she could have passed for ten years younger. Somehow age just didn’t stick to her.

I returned her warmth. “Yes, Mrs. Langsmith, I just got here.”

“Don’t be too formal, sweetie. Call me Maggie,” she said, her expression easy and kind.

“Oh… um, okay. Maggie,” I said, still a little hesitant.

“And Jasmine, glad you made it too,” she added, turning toward her.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Jasmine grinned.

“Haha, good. Come on, let me show you around.” Maggie motioned us inside.

The place was buzzing. Music thumped, people danced, drinks in hand. It didn’t feel like a party thrown by someone in her fifties at all; more like teenagers had taken over.

“Everyone, this is Angela and Jasmine!” Maggie called out.

A round of cheers went up, names echoing back at us. I smiled, cheeks warm, not sure what to do with all the attention. Jasmine, of course, was already waving and laughing like she’d been here all night.

And then I froze. Near the wall, holding a glass of water, stood the same girl from the hedges. Under the lights she looked smaller, her face tilted upward, eyes fixed on the ceiling as though she could still see the sky beyond it.

Instinctively, I followed her gaze, trying to catch whatever held her so intently. For a second, I thought I saw a faint ripple across the plaster, a trick of the light maybe, but before I could focus, Maggie’s bracelets jingled.

“Okay, drinks are over there,” she said brightly, pointing toward the bar. “Food’s on the table. And the party,” she threw her hands toward the dance floor, “is right hereee!”

I blinked and looked back, but the girl hadn’t moved, still staring upward as if no one else in the room existed.

“Do whatever you like, just don’t head outside.” Maggie continued.

“Oooh, why? Monsters out there?” Jasmine teased.

“Haha, maybe,” Maggie chuckled. “But mostly I’d rather not get on the neighbors’ bad side.”

“Fair enough,” Jasmine said with a playful snap of her fingers.

I nodded, and Maggie slipped away to greet more guests.

“She’s amazing,” Jasmine whispered.

“Yeah… she really is,” I said, smiling.

“Okay, first things first, drinks, then dancing!” Jasmine tugged at my arm.

I pulled back gently. “Maybe in a bit. You go ahead.”

“You sure?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I’ll join you,” I promised.

“Alright, don’t run off on me,” she winked before disappearing into the crowd.

I slipped away from the crowd and found a quieter corner near the hallway, thumbing my phone. A few rings, then Sara’s voice answered, muffled but bright.

“Hey, Mom.”

“Hey, sweetheart. You doing okay? Having a good night?”

“Yeah. Dad ordered pizza again.”

I smiled. “Classic Joshua. Let me guess, extra olives?”

She laughed. “Always.” Then her voice softened. “Um… can I ask you something?”

“Of course. What’s up?”

“I was thinking of going to Casey’s this weekend. A bunch of school friends are meeting there.”

I raised a brow. “So… a party?”

“Mom, it’s not like that.”

“Relax, I didn’t say no. But if it’s a party, better to just admit it.”

She sighed. “Fine. It’s kind of a party.”

“I knew it.”

“Mom!”

I chuckled. “I know, honey. You’re thirteen.”

“Fourteen. Almost fourteen,” she shot back quickly.

“Right, right. Miss Almost Fourteen, ready to make her own decisions.” I softened my voice. “Just promise me you’ll be careful.”

“I will. Can you… talk to Dad about it? He told me to ask you.”

“Ohhh, so I get to be the bad guy?”

“Pleeease.”

I laughed again. “Alright, but you owe me. Don’t think I’ll forget.”

“Deal. Thanks, Mom.”

“Anytime. What’s Dad up to?”

“He’s fine. Just glued to the TV. He keeps saying the military’s running drills near the coast, trucks, helicopters, the whole thing. But…” She hesitated. “It doesn’t look like drills.”

My smile faded. “Okay. Just stay inside tonight, alright? I’ll check in again soon.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Okay. Love you.”

“Love you too, Hun.”

When I stepped into the main hall, the music and laughter felt almost too bright. I drifted toward the bar, weaving past couples and dancers, but stopped when a voice cut through the noise.

“Breaking news tonight,” the announcer’s voice cut through the music. “Strange green lights have been spotted in the sky…”

“Pfft, nothing but rumors,” a guy scoffed.

“Exactly. They make up anything for views,” another agreed.

I glanced at the screen, a shaky video of a green glow flickering above the clouds. My stomach turned a little. Green light… didn’t Jasmine say something about that?

Meh. Drink first.

At the bar, I poured myself a glass of Cuban rum, my favorite, and took a slow sip. The warmth steadied me. My phone buzzed with a news alert: Unidentified object spotted crashing near the coast.

“Great…” I muttered, about to open the link.

A burst of laughter broke nearby. I glanced down the counter and froze.

Her.

The same girl I’d seen outside. Now she stood at the edge of the bar, half-shadowed, a glass of water in her hand. She wasn’t drinking it, just holding it, fingers wrapped so tight the glass looked ready to shatter.

She didn’t fit here. Not with the music pounding and everyone else laughing and shouting. She looked misplaced, like she’d wandered into the wrong world and hadn’t realized it yet.

Two guys drifted close, grinning at each other. Their voices cut through the music, sharp and deliberate.

“Careful, Ruth. You’ll scare someone off just standing there like that.”

The other snorted. “Does she ever talk? Or does she just creep people out for fun?”

They waited for her to flinch, to argue, to do something. She didn’t.

Her eyes stayed fixed, not on them, not on me, but somewhere past all of it. For the briefest second I thought she was staring right through the ceiling, back toward the sky she’d been watching earlier.

The laughter lingered, then the boys slipped away, swallowed by the crowd.

She remained. Small. Silent. Unmoving.

I hesitated, then stepped toward her. “Want something stronger?” I asked, holding up the bottle in my hand.

Her eyes flicked to me. There was nothing fragile in them, just an odd stillness, like she was measuring me for reasons I couldn’t guess.

Then she shook her head, almost gently. “No. Thank you. But… that’s kind of you.”

Her voice was soft, almost drowned out by the bass, but it clung to me all the same.

For a moment I thought she’d say more. Instead, she only tightened her grip on the glass, as if it were the only thing keeping her anchored here.

Before I could think of what else to say, another voice cut in.

“Hey.”

I turned. A tall guy leaned against the bar, a grin stretched too wide across his face. Too close. Too practiced.

“Uh… hi?”

“Wondering if I could have this dance,” he said. It didn’t sound like a question.

“I can’t,” I answered quickly. “I’m here with my boyfriend.”

He tilted his head, eyes narrowing just enough to make my skin crawl. “Boyfriend? Didn’t see him with you. Thought you came in with that Jasmine chick.”

Heat prickled at my neck. “He’s around,” I said, trying to sound steadier than I felt.

“Right,” he drawled. “Then one dance won’t hurt. Promise I don’t bite.”

Movement at my side. Ruth had stepped closer. Not much, just enough that I could feel her presence. Solid. Strange.

“She’s fine,” she said softly. “Leave her be.”

Kevin’s grin faltered, then curled sharper. His eyes flicked toward her like a knife.

“Of course. Ruth the watchdog. Always hovering.” His voice dipped lower, crueler. “You wonder why nobody talks to you? It’s because you act like a weirdo.”

The words cut deeper than they should have.

Ruth didn’t move. Shoulders drawn in, eyes dropping back to her glass. She didn’t argue. Didn’t fight. Just absorbed the insult like she’d been absorbing them her whole life.

I wanted to speak. To push back. To tell him to shut up. But the words tangled in my throat, smothered by the bass and the weight of his sneer.

Kevin lingered a beat longer, satisfied, then shoved himself off the counter and vanished into the crowd. His laughter trailed behind him like oil on water.

I turned back. Ruth was still there. Fingers white against the glass.

“I… I’m sorry,” I murmured, though the words felt thin, almost useless.

Her lips curved faintly, but her eyes stayed far away. “Don’t be. You did nothing wrong.”

She lifted the glass to her lips, taking a slow sip, as if that was the end of it.

But the air around her stayed heavy, wrong, as if the whole room’s noise couldn’t quite touch her.

I lingered beside Ruth, not sure what else to say. The music pounded, people moved around us in bursts of laughter and light, but for a moment it felt like the two of us were standing in a quieter world, just slightly out of step with the rest.

“Angela!” Jasmine’s voice cut through the noise, bright and insistent. She bounced toward us, cheeks flushed from dancing.

Ruth glanced up at her, then back at me. “Nice to meet you,” she said softly.

“Angela,” I replied, giving her my name as if it meant more than just a word.

Her faint smile flickered, and then she was gone. She didn’t walk away or push through, she was simply gone into the crush of the crowd so quickly I almost doubted she’d been there at all.

Jasmine looped her arm through mine. “There you are. Don’t go hiding on me.”

I let out a small laugh. “Wasn’t hiding.”

“Good. Because now it’s your turn.” She pulled me onto the dance floor, spinning me into the pulse of the music.

For a while, I let myself sink into it, Jasmine laughing, tugging me close, spinning me until the world blurred. And I actually smiled. But after a few songs, my lungs burned.

“Water,” I said, patting her arm before slipping away.

At the bar, I poured myself a glass and finally checked my phone. My stomach dropped when I saw three missed calls from Nate and dozens of unread texts. Before I could open them, the screen lit up again.

“Nate?” I answered fast, pressing the phone to my ear.

Static. And then his voice, ragged, broken. “Ann… Ann, somethin’s… wrong…”

“What? Nate, I can’t hear you.” I pushed through the hallway, searching for a better signal.

“Don’t… go outside. Do you hear me? Don’t…”

“Nate? You’re breaking up, I—”

Then, suddenly, his voice cut through the static, sharp and clear as a knife. “Angela, stay safe. They’re here.”

The line went dead.

I froze, phone still to my ear. Here? Who’s here?

Before the thought could settle, the hall went dark. A blackout. Gasps rippled through the crowd.

Then came the sound, a deep, rolling boom from outside that rattled the glass.

We all turned to the doors at the far end of the hall. The yard beyond was drenched in an eerie glow. Green light bled across the sky, rippling like a curtain of fire. It poured over the lawn, the windows, the faces pressed to the glass.

Sirens wailed in the distance. Screams rose from the street. Another explosion shook the ground beneath us.

I pressed closer to the glass, my breath caught in my throat.

And for one heartbeat, I remembered Ruth, her eyes lifted to the sky as if she’d been waiting for this.

Whatever this was, it wasn’t a party anymore.