The Endgame Chronicles (by Hugh White) novel Chapter 708

Chapter 708

The people in the outer camp watched as groups were led inside, their eyes full of envy.

“Griffin,” Hayley warned quietly before stepping up to the registration table, “if you try to run, I’ll break your legs.”

Griffin grinned. “Got it.”

“Don’t run,” she repeated.

He stretched lazily, one eye half-lidded. “You’re here. Where would I even go? I’ve got to keep an eye on

you.”

Hayley said nothing.

Soon, it was their turn.

“Name?”

“Hayley Reid.”

“Emergency contact?”

“Griffin Quinn.”

The registrar wrote it down, and someone beside them brought over 500 pounds of supplies.

Then it was Winona’s turn.

“Name?”

“Winona Shorts.”

The woman registering paused for a second, then turned to look at the girl standing beside Hayley.

Winona blinked back at her, a little confused. “Winona Shorts. W-I-N-O-N-A S-H-O-R-T-S.”

The registrar was covered head to toe, wearing a large mask, a wide-brim hat, and dark glasses. Not a

hint of her face showed.

The man in the white coat noticed the delay. “A51. Move it.”

At the cold reminder, the registrar resumed, pen touching paper again.

“Your name?” she asked, as if she hadn’t heard.

“Winona Shorts. W-I-N-O-N-AS-H-O-R-T-S.”

The pen moved slowly this time.

“Contact?”

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Winona glanced at Hayley, then answered, “Griffin Quinn.”

The registrar paused again. “Your father?”

“He’s dead.”

The woman’s hand stilled for just a beat, then she covered what she had started writing and replaced it with Griffin’s name.

It was quick, almost seamless.

But Hayley caught it.

Once finished, the registrar handed them each a numbered wristband.

“Everyone with a number, head inside,” the man in the white coat said coldly from the front. “Once you enter the inner camp, your number is your only identification.”

Hayley took the bands.

No. 7913, No. 7914.

The numbers stirred a memory: the level-six mental-variant zombie at the castle, labeled No. 3.

“Don’t lose it.”

The voice came softly from A51.

Hayley looked at her.

But the woman had already returned to her detached routine, calling the next name as if nothing had happened.

“Come on,” Winona said, taking Hayley’s hand and pulling her forward.

Behind them, A51’s voice stayed flat and mechanical as she continued registering the others.

Hayley followed the crowd inside.

The moment she stepped in, a faint clicking sound echoed around them.

That was when Hayley noticed that the inside was empty. There were just three massive doors ahead

The man in the white coat led them to the one on the far right,

As soon as they entered, everything went dark.

All Hayley could feel was the slope beneath her feet, leading downward. People moved in a fine ahead of her, one after another, guided only by the dim light in the man’s hand.

They walked like that for a long time

Chorter 700

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