Morning light filtered through the boarded windows of the abandoned gas station, casting thin golden stripes across the dusty floor. Elena knelt beside Runner, carefully removing yesterday's bandages with practiced precision.

  "The wound is clean, no signs of infection," she murmured, more to herself than to her patient. Her fingers probed gently around the sutures. "How's the pain level?"

  Runner attempted a casual shrug that didn't quite mask his discomfort. "Manageable. Better than yesterday." His characteristic energy was subdued, but the color had returned to his face.

  Elena nodded, applying fresh antiseptic with methodical care. "Good. The antibiotics are working." She secured a clean dressing over the wound, then turned toward Viktor, who sat against the wall observing their exchange.

  "And your burns, Viktor?"

  "Healing," he replied succinctly. The raw, blistered skin of yesterday had already begun to regenerate, though the process was clearly slower than his usual recovery. "Daylight will be... uncomfortable but not debilitating."

  Elena's expression conveyed her skepticism, but she didn't contradict him. Instead, she surveyed their makeshift shelter with a critical eye, mentally cataloging their dwindling supplies.

  "The outpost is less than a mile from here," she said finally. "If Runner can manage with support..."

  Viktor rose in one fluid motion, his discomfort evident only in the slightest tightening around his eyes. "We can't stay here. Limited resources, poor defensibility."

  Runner pushed himself up to sitting position, wincing slightly. "I can make it. Just need a shoulder to lean on occasionally."

  Their eyes met in silent consensus—decision made without debate. Elena began organizing their supplies with efficient movements.

  "We travel slowly," she instructed, her tone shifting subtly into what Viktor had come to think of as her 'doctor voice.' "No heroics from either of you. Your body is still repcing blood volume," she told Runner, "and your burns need to avoid direct sunlight," she added to Viktor.

  "Understood," Viktor responded, the slight arch of his eyebrow indicating both amusement and respect for her authority in this domain.

  They departed shortly after, Elena supporting Runner while Viktor carried their packs despite Elena's objections. Their progress was methodical, with frequent breaks in shaded areas. Viktor moved primarily within the tree line, his heightened senses continuously surveying their surroundings despite the discomfort evident in his rigid posture when patches of sunlight broke through.

  "There—through those trees," Runner said after nearly forty minutes of careful progress, pointing toward a metallic glint visible through the foliage. "See the satellite dish?"

  A single-story structure emerged from the ndscape—sleek and utilitarian, with sor panels on the sloped roof and small, high-set windows. A perimeter fence surrounded the complex, considerably more substantial than the one at the university outpost.

  "Stay in the tree line, Viktor," Elena said. "I'll check for immediate threats."

  "I've got him," Viktor replied, taking Runner's weight from her with careful movements.

  Elena approached the building cautiously, her movements dispying the urban stealth techniques Viktor had taught her. The ck of footprints or disturbed vegetation around the entrance confirmed Runner's initial assessment—this pce had been undisturbed for some time.

  A keypad secured the rear entrance. Elena studied it briefly, then entered a sequence.

  "The entrance code should be standard research protocol..." she murmured. Nothing happened. She tried a second combination, then a third. The door remained sealed.

  Viktor joined her, supporting Runner with one arm while studying the access panel. "Universities typically used a reversed date code for remote facilities," he said quietly. "Try 21-10-19."

  Elena entered the numbers, and the panel emitted a soft click. She turned the handle, and the door opened with a pneumatic hiss of sealed air releasing.

  "How did you know?" she asked, surprised.

  Viktor's expression remained impassive. "I designed security systems for university research stations. Before."

  This glimpse into his pre-vampire life hung between them briefly before urgent priorities reasserted themselves. Viktor insisted on entering first despite his injuries, senses alert for any potential threat. The interior was dim and cool, with an antiseptic smell overid with years of dust.

  "Clear," he called back after a moment.

  Elena helped Runner inside, easing him onto a metal bench just inside the entrance. The door sealed behind them with a reassuring click, immediately reducing Viktor's sun exposure discomfort.

  "They left in a hurry, but it wasn't chaotic," Viktor observed, examining the entryway. "Organized evacuation."

  The facility revealed itself room by room—a central boratory area with equipment still in pce, covered with protective sheets; a technical section housing control systems for the sor array and communications equipment; a residential wing with personal quarters and common areas. Everything spoke of orderly departure rather than panicked flight.

  "The equipment is intact," Elena breathed, pulling a dust cover from what appeared to be a centrifuge. Her eyes widened with barely contained excitement. "Covered, preserved... This is incredible." Her fingers traced the machine with the reverence of a pilgrim touching a holy relic.

  Viktor moved methodically through the technical spaces, assessing systems with a professional eye. "Sor array on the roof. Damaged but repairable," he noted, examining the control panel. "Battery storage system is offline, but the components seem intact."

  Runner, despite his injury, had made his way to the communications section, where dusty monitors and radio equipment stood silent. "There's a whole command center here," he called out, enthusiasm breaking through his pain. "Satellite uplink, radio systems..."

  They regrouped in the central area after the initial exploration, each carrying the weight of possibility. Viktor remained standing, habitually positioning himself with sightlines to all entrances.

  "The location is defensible," he began, summarizing his tactical assessment. "Remote enough to avoid casual discovery. Perimeter has motion detection capabilities, though currently offline."

  Elena nodded, her mind already organizing priorities. "The b equipment is basic but functional. Once we have power..." She trailed off, uncharacteristically lost in potential rather than immediate needs.

  "There's a short-wave radio system," Runner added, leaning against a desk for support. "Might be able to monitor frequencies, maybe even transmit eventually."

  They looked at each other, the unspoken question hanging in the air—could this be more than temporary shelter?

  "We could actually continue our research here. Properly," Elena said softly, voicing what they were all thinking.

  "Then it's decided," Viktor concluded. "We stay and make this work."

  The relief was palpable. For the first time since leaving the Underground, they had found somewhere to stop running.

  They divided tasks according to their strengths. Viktor focused on the power systems, his injuries seemingly forgotten as he examined the sor array controls with intense concentration.

  "Hand me the junction box schematics," he requested, head bent over an open panel filled with circuitry.

  Elena handed him the technical manual she'd found, watching with surprise as he immediately began tracing circuits. "You understand these systems?"

  "I designed simir arrays before... before everything." He didn't look up from his work, fingers moving with precise familiarity over components.

  "You never mentioned engineering experience."

  "You never asked."

  Their eyes met briefly over the open panel, a new understanding passing between them. Elena had always known Viktor was intelligent—his scientific understanding during their viral research had made that clear—but this glimpse of his pre-vampire professional identity added another yer to the man she thought she knew.

  While Viktor worked on restoring power, Elena organized the boratory space, methodically inventorying equipment and pnning research stations. Her movements became increasingly animated as she discovered each new piece of equipment intact.

  "Basic centrifuge, microscope, rudimentary spectrometer..." She listed each find with growing excitement.

  Runner, who had been tasked with resting but had insisted on helping catalog supplies, watched her with amusement. "Is that good?"

  "It's... extraordinary given our circumstances." Elena looked up, a rare, unguarded smile transforming her usually serious face. "We can actually conduct proper research."

  "I've never seen you smile like that before," Runner observed.

  Elena's expression flickered with momentary self-consciousness before she returned to her inventory, but the smile lingered at the corners of her mouth.

  Despite Elena's instructions to rest, Runner had gravitated to the communications center, his natural affinity for technology evident in the way he methodically tested connections and power circuits. By mid-afternoon, he had a rudimentary understanding of the system.

  "It's receiving!" he called out excitedly when Viktor reconnected a power junction. "Just static, but the system works."

  Viktor joined him, examining the array of equipment. "Can you tell what frequencies they monitored?"

  "Weather, emergency bands, research coordination..." Runner pulled up dusty logbooks from a drawer. "The logs are still here. They were tracking some kind of environmental project."

  "Good work," Viktor acknowledged. "Especially for someone who should be resting."

  Runner waved dismissively, unwilling to be sidelined by his injury. "I can rest when I'm dead. Or when there's working internet again."

  As evening approached, Viktor made the final connections to the sor power system. The three gathered in the technical room, a sense of anticipation building.

  "Circuit's complete," Viktor expined, his voice clinically detached despite the importance of the moment. "If the batteries retained any charge..."

  He activated the main switch. The lights flickered briefly, then died. Viktor frowned, studying the control panel.

  "The inverter connection needs to be redirected through the secondary circuit," he murmured, making rapid adjustments.

  Elena leaned in, examining the diagram. "What if you bypassed this junction altogether?" She pointed to a section of the schematic. "The degradation might be causing resistance."

  Viktor considered this, then nodded. "Logical. Hand me the wire cutters."

  Their hands brushed as she passed the tool, a brief moment of contact neither acknowledged.

  "Try now," Elena suggested after Viktor had implemented her modification.

  Viktor reactivated the system. For a heartbeat, nothing happened—then the building hummed to life around them. Lights illuminated gradually, revealing the space in crity for the first time. Air circution systems whirred as dormant machinery awakened.

  Runner whooped with delight. Viktor's expression remained stoic, but satisfaction radiated from his posture. Elena's eyes met his across the control panel, a silent acknowledgment of their shared achievement.

  With power restored, the facility transformed from shelter to sanctuary. The residential section revealed six individual rooms, each with basic furnishings. Personal effects from previous researchers remained—clothing, books, photographs—testament to lives interrupted.

  "They left everything," Elena observed, examining a shelf of technical manuals and personal journals.

  "We should gather personal items, store them properly," Viktor suggested, handling a framed photograph with unexpected gentleness.

  Runner looked uncomfortable for the first time since they'd arrived. "We're not just taking their things. We're... continuing their work."

  "In a way they never anticipated," Elena agreed softly.

  They selected their quarters with careful consideration. Viktor chose a room with clear sightlines to the main entrance, its spartan furnishings requiring minimal modification for his needs. Elena selected the space closest to the boratory access, already mentally converting a small desk into a research station. Runner cimed the room adjacent to the communications center despite other options with better views, his priorities clear.

  Evening found them gathered in the common area, sharing a meal cobbled together from preserved supplies found in the facility's stores. Runner had discovered music files on the research server, and soft cssical pieces provided a surreal backdrop to their first meal under reliable electric light.

  "To electricity and running water," Runner proposed, raising a gss of purified water in toast.

  "To walls that keep things out and let us sleep," Elena added, the shadows of constant vigince briefly lifting from her features.

  "To continuing the work," Viktor concluded, his quiet intensity giving weight to simple words.

  They ate in companionable silence, the significance of celebrating these once-ordinary aspects of civilization unspoken but understood. After months of constant movement and danger, the simple luxury of walls, lights, and running water felt almost decadent.

  "We've made something here," Viktor observed ter, his voice so quiet that Elena, sitting nearby, barely caught the words.

  She nodded, understanding exactly what he meant. They had created not just shelter, but possibility.

  As night settled fully, they completed their respective routines. Viktor made final security rounds despite his fatigue, activating the rudimentary motion sensors he'd restored along the perimeter. Elena organized medical supplies in an actual cabinet, the novelty of proper storage still strange after months of keeping everything in backpacks.

  Runner had already retired, his door left slightly ajar—a habit from their time in less secure locations when immediate communication might mean survival.

  Viktor and Elena met in the hallway during their respective tasks, pausing in mutual acknowledgment of the day's achievements.

  "Perimeter's secure," he reported, the familiar phrase somehow different in this new context. "Motion sensors active."

  "I've restocked the first aid supplies," she responded in kind. Her eyes assessed his burns with professional scrutiny. "Your burns need checking."

  "Tomorrow," he countered gently. "You need rest."

  "So do you."

  They lingered in the common area, neither immediately moving toward their separate rooms. The simple domesticity of the moment hung between them—an unremarkable interaction made extraordinary by its normalcy in their abnormal world.

  "Goodnight, Elena," Viktor finally said, a slight inclination of his head accompanying the words.

  "Goodnight, Viktor," she replied softly.

  They moved to their respective doorways, the simple exchange carrying the weight of normalcy long absent from their lives. For the first time since leaving the Underground, they closed doors behind them without fear of what might come in the night.