The line went dead. I pulled the phone away from my ear and stared at the screen, Isla's name still there as if the call hadn't just ended, like maybe if I dialed again, I could pull her back from the brink. My hand trembled as I hit redial. Nothing. I tried again, and again. Each time, the call failed, the silence on the other end growing louder, mocking me.
"Come on, come on, please—" I muttered, my voice cracking as I punched at the screen in a blind panic. But deep down, I knew. The phone wasn't going to save her. Nothing was.
I couldn't just sit here, waiting. My pulse pounded in my ears as I leapt to my feet, the world spinning as I paced the room. I had to get to her. I didn't care if I didn't know how, didn't care about the risk or the madness outside. I just couldn't let Isla face this alone.
I grabbed my jacket, not thinking, just moving, shoving my arms into the sleeves as I made my way to the door. The moment I touched the cold metal handle, I froze. My breath came out in short, shallow bursts as I pressed my ear to the door, straining to hear something—anything—on the other side. The silence was worse than the noise. It was like the entire world had stopped breathing, waiting for something to happen.
I opened the door just a crack, my heart hammering in my chest. This is real. This is happening. The thought kept running through my head on a loop, making my movements slow, stiff, as if I were underwater.
The door creaked open, and I was hit with the smell first—something sour, like rotting meat. I covered my nose instinctively, the acrid stench making my stomach churn. Then I saw it.
A man was crouched in the hallway, his back to me, hunched over something—or someone. His body jerked unnaturally as he moved, tearing into the flesh of the person beneath him. My breath caught in my throat. Blood—there was so much blood, pooling on the floor, staining the walls. I wanted to scream, but the sound died in my throat.
The man's head snapped up, and for the first time, I saw his face. His mouth was smeared with blood, his eyes glazed over with that same vacant hunger I had seen on the news, the kind that stripped away any trace of humanity. His lips curled into a snarl as he fixed his gaze on me, and in that moment, I knew—he wasn't a man anymore.
A sound escaped me, some mix of a gasp and a cry, and the creature lunged at me with terrifying speed. Instinct took over, and I slammed the door shut, the wood rattling on its hinges as I locked it, my hands shaking so hard I could barely turn the key.
A heavy thud hit the door, and I stumbled back, my chest heaving. It was right there. It had seen me. I could hear it scratching, clawing, trying to get in, the growls low and menacing.
I backed away, my knees buckling as I collapsed against the wall, sliding down to the floor. My breath came out in ragged gasps, my whole body trembling uncontrollably. I almost died. That thing was inches from getting to me.
I buried my face in my hands, trying to block out the sound of the creature outside, trying to block out everything. But I couldn't. The world had changed, and there was no going back.
Isla. My sister was out there, in this nightmare. Alone. And I had no idea if she was still alive.
I swallowed back a sob, pressing my palm against my mouth to keep from falling apart. The thing outside stopped pounding on the door, but the silence didn't comfort me. It was out there, lurking, waiting.
I had to think. I had to move.
I couldn't let her die like this. Not alone.