Clear Water, Hidden Danger

Chapter 46 – Expect the Unexpected

Hawk spotted them first—shapes jerked out of the dark on 36th, too far for the resonance to hit me yet.
A moment later the hum caught up, sharp and heavy, telling me they’d locked onto our engine.

“New cluster,” he muttered, leaning forward. “Not the same ones from the highway.”

I tightened my grip on the wheel. “Couldn’t leave well enough alone, huh?”

More Phase III stepped from side yards, between cars, out of the shadows of apartment buildings. Not a wall. But enough to turn one mistake into disaster. Enough to make one thing absolutely clear:

We were not taking this mess anywhere near NLC.

I keyed the mic. “Neal, come in.”

Her voice cut through static. “Go.”

“We picked up a fresh pocket on 36th. We can’t come to NLC.”

“Copy. Options?”

“One: You split the convoy. Break off one MCU and send it straight to CWP with Cruz’s essentials. Same route you came in on. Blackhawk Drive only.”

“Understood. MCU Three prepping now.”

“Two,” I continued, “you hold position at NLC until sunrise. Battalion stays with you. You’re secure enough there.”

“Affirmative.”

I killed the transmission and exhaled once through my teeth.

Hawk pointed out the window. “We bottleneck them again.”

I followed his line of sight.

A narrow gap between houses. Dark streets winding behind it. Tight lanes. Dead ends. Exactly the kind of suburban choke we needed.

“Same trick twice?” I asked.

“It worked twice in Kandahar,” Hawk said. “Why break tradition?”

I swung left onto Lookingglass.

The truck roared into the neighborhood grid, headlights bouncing off garage doors and parked sedans. Behind us, the Phase III mass compressed instantly. Bodies slamming into each other, tripping, piling, choking the entry point.

Left onto Courtney Dr.

The road tightened even more. Fences. Mailboxes. Overgrown hedges clawing at the flanks of the truck.

Left toward Mirror Lane.

The bottleneck slammed shut behind us, the roar choking into a thick, congested grind.

Left onto S 33rd St.

Right onto Lookingglass—crossing our own trail, forcing the cluster to collapse into its own confusion.

Then the final turn.

Left back onto 36th.

Open road.
No pursuit.
Not a single body keeping pace.

Hawk leaned back in his seat. “Done. They’ll be in that cage all night.”

I keyed up again. “Neal, status?”

“We’re rolling,” she said. “MCU Three just cleared Blackhawk. Fire Engine with them. ETA ten.”

“Good. We’ll hit CWP from the north. See you soon.”

I pushed the truck down 36th—clean, silent, no tails—until the street met La Platte Road. The familiar turn pulled the tension out of my shoulders.

Home.

We rolled into the CWP north gate minutes before the emergency MCU and Fire Engine arrived. Guards recognized us instantly and waved us through.

Cruz and Alaina were already moving—gloves on, sleeves rolled, crates half-opened. No drama. No hesitation. Just medical urgency.

Hawk and I didn’t need instructions. We grabbed the oxygen cylinders, IV kits, antibiotic bundles—everything Cruz flagged earlier—hauling them across the loading bay straight into the admin hall.

“Set that against the wall!” Cruz barked, grabbing a regulator unit. “And crack that case for me!”

Alaina cleared a path through the crowd. “Right here! Bring the trauma kit here!”

The seconds mattered. Every one. Fatima had maybe hours left if Cruz didn’t get her stabilized. And for once, everything moved perfectly:

Iron Battalion offloaded crates.
CWP staff cleared tables.
Civilians passed equipment hand-to-hand.

No chaos.
Just momentum.

Once Cruz took over fully—hands already deep in the work—I stepped back and finally let myself breathe.

I walked down the hall and found my family.

Alex met me first. No words. Just her arms around my neck. The kids wrapped around my waist and leg. For a moment—just one—I let the adrenaline wash off.

Then I headed back out.

The MCU that returned wasn’t alone.

Two more vehicles were pulling in behind it—packed.

Men and women jumped down.
Some I recognized from the original six who left the plant.
Others were new.
All of them wore the same expression:

They’d made a decision.

One of the older military guys stepped forward. The kind of man whose posture still screamed Army even without the uniform. Sleeves rolled, jaw set, eyes reading the perimeter before they ever read me.

He nodded once.

“I’m Master Sergeant Bobby Hike, United States Army. We’re not staying at NLC,” he said. “Not tonight. Not after what we saw.”

“Yessir,” Boro added, stepping up behind him.

Prince slid into place beside him like it was rehearsed. “Same here.”

I studied Hike for a beat. “Why come back now?”

He shrugged once, simple and honest.

“There’s safety in numbers,” Prince said.

Hike didn’t miss a beat. “But there’s survival with men who don’t die when monsters touch them.”

No awe.
No worship.
Just soldier math.

Morales crossed his arms, voice firm. “We’ve been out here long enough to know who’s actually keeping the roads alive. And that’s where we want to be.”

The returnees stood tight behind them. Familiar faces from FEMA. A couple from Station 4. A handful of NLC stragglers who looked like they’d lost everything except the will to keep walking.

I nodded once.

“You come through this gate,” I said, “you’re CWP. No halfway. You pull weight. You follow structure. You protect what we protect.”

MSG Hike straightened, like that was exactly the answer he expected.

“That’s why we came.”

Behind them, Iron Battalion watched quietly. Respectfully. Already part of the fabric forming around the loading bay.

Lights flickered across the walls.
Voices echoed through the admin hall.
Cruz shouted for saline.
Hawk rolled his shoulders, breathing heavy.
The returning group scattered to help.
And for the first time all day, the plant didn’t feel small.

It felt alive.
Busy.
Growing.

A coalition in motion.

And all of it born out of one truth:

Expect the unexpected—
and be ready to move when it happens.

========================================
ANONYMOUS FIELD LOG — ENTRY ALPHA
CLASSIFIED — PROJECT ECHO CLEARANCE REQUIRED:

Radio traffic logged Anchor’s deviation from 36th following emergence of an independent Phase III pocket unrelated to the main 370 mass. Cluster density assessed through ambient acoustics only; no approach detected within CWP perimeter. Transmission confirmed secondary bottleneck routing (Lookingglass to Courtney to Mirror to S 33rd) and successful reentry onto 36th with no trailing bodies. CWP initiated emergency intake per Cruz’s priority-supply instruction. Multiple civilians arrived with MCU return group; perimeter integrity confirmed. No resonance spike events recorded.

========================================
ANONYMOUS FIELD LOG — ENTRY BRAVO
CLASSIFIED — PROJECT ECHO CLEARANCE REQUIRED:

NLC monitored open-band traffic as Anchor reported obstruction on 36th preventing safe arrival. Convoy-split order received; MCU redirected to CWP with critical medical material while NLC entered overnight hold pattern with Battalion security. Facility perimeter remained clear; no Phase III movement detected within auditory range. Return-of-civilians confirmed via comms traffic during CWP intake. NLC conducting end-of-run inventory and maintaining lockdown posture pending next directive.

If you want these placed at the end of the final manuscript version of Chapter 46, or formatted for your CW1 chapter master file, just say the word.