Kate stood motionless for a moment, her eyes scanning the group scattered throughout the basement. The air was thick with the smell of sweat and antiseptic, mingled with the faint metallic tang of blood. Every face told the same story—exhaustion etched into hollow cheeks, fear flickering in wide eyes, and the faintest glimmer of hope trembling like a candle flame in the midst of a storm.
She wanted to tell them things would get better. That there was a way out of this nightmare. But she couldn't bring herself to lie. Not now. Not when every breath they took felt borrowed.
What they needed wasn't comfort—it was a plan.
"We can't stay here," Kate said, her voice sharp enough to cut through the low murmurs filling the room. The suddenness of her words pulled every gaze toward her.
For a moment, no one spoke. The heavy silence was punctuated only by the labored breathing of an injured man lying on a stretcher near the far wall. His wife clutched his hand tightly, her knuckles white, her lips trembling.
Finally, a grizzled older man sitting on an overturned crate broke the silence. He had a bloodstained rag wrapped around his arm, and his face was pale but resolute. "Where the hell are we supposed to go?" he asked, his voice gruff but tinged with a weariness that was impossible to hide. "The streets are crawling with them. Every building out there's probably just as bad, if not worse."
Kate hesitated. She didn't have a perfect answer—not even a good one. But doing nothing wasn't an option.
"There's a high school a few miles from here," she said finally. Her voice wavered slightly, but she pressed on. "It's the one I went earlier. The structure's solid, and schools were built to be defensible. There's plenty of space to set up a base, and the surrounding area is more open—better visibility."
Claire, crouched by a patient with a makeshift bandage in her hands, shot her a skeptical look. "That's a big risk, Kate," she said, rising to her feet. Her tone was cautious but firm. "We don't know what's out there. What if we're walking straight into something worse?"
Kate clenched her jaw, her frustration bubbling to the surface. "And what if we're not?" she snapped, her voice rising. "Do you want to wait here until those things break through? Because they will. It's just a matter of time. We have one ambulance, a week's worth of supplies at best, and half this group can barely stand. Staying here is suicide."
The room fell into an uneasy silence. A young boy clutching a broken baseball bat shifted nervously, glancing up at his mother. She pulled him closer, her face pale and lined with worry.
Claire sighed, running a hand through her tangled hair. "If we're doing this, we need to move now," she said finally, her voice heavy with resignation. "We can't risk waiting until nightfall."
---
The evacuation was chaos from the moment it began.
Kate barked orders, trying to keep the group moving while Claire and Evan wrangled the more fragile patients into the ambulance. Those who could walk hobbled out of the basement, clutching what little they could carry—blankets, scavenged cans of food, or crude weapons fashioned from whatever was available.
"We're leaving the rest," Evan said grimly, motioning to the pile of supplies too heavy or cumbersome to take. "There's no way to haul all this."
Kate nodded, though the thought of abandoning resources made her stomach churn. Every decision felt like a gamble.
"we can come back and take it later" said kate
Outside, the world felt even more hostile than it had hours ago. The hospital's main entrance was a shattered mess, the glass doors jagged and streaked with blood. The street beyond was a vision of chaos: overturned cars, broken streetlights, and the smoldering remains of a bus lying on its side in the middle of the road.
"Stay close," Kate called over her shoulder as the group filed out into the open. Her voice was steady, but her heart was pounding in her chest. "And whatever you do, don't stop moving."
The city stretched before them like a graveyard, every block littered with the remnants of lives violently interrupted. Cars sat abandoned in chaotic clusters, some with their doors still open, their interiors stained with dark, crusted streaks. Broken storefronts gaped like wounds, their shattered windows and ransacked interiors telling silent stories of desperation and panic.
Kate and Evan took the lead, their weapons at the ready. Claire brought up the rear, her sharp eyes scanning every shadow for movement. The group moved in a tight, fearful huddle, their footsteps a disjointed rhythm against the cracked pavement.
Every sound set Kate's nerves on edge. The faint wail of a distant siren. The shuffling of debris. The guttural moans of the infected, carried on the wind like a death knell. She gripped her crowbar tightly, her palms slick with sweat.
---
It took nearly an hour to reach the high school. By the time they arrived, exhaustion was etched into every face. The ambulance had taken the brunt of the injured, but those on foot were barely holding together.
The school loomed ahead like a shadowy fortress, its windows dark and foreboding. The chain-link fence surrounding the property was partially torn down, a gaping wound in what should have been their first line of defense.
Kate hopped out of the ambulance, sweat dripping down her temple. "Evan, help me with this," she called, motioning him to the gate.
Together, they push the gate with all their strength. The metal groaned in protest, each creak sending a fresh wave of anxiety through the group.
"Hurry," Claire urged from the rear, her voice tight with fear.
Kate glanced over her shoulder and felt her stomach drop. A cluster of infected had rounded the corner at the end of the block, their jerky, unnatural movements illuminated by the faint glow of a burning car.
"Almost there," Kate growled, With a final push the gate swung open.
"Inside!" she shouted.
The group surged forward, practically tumbling into the building. Kate and Claire worked quickly to barricade the doors with desks, trash cans, and whatever else they could find. The infected outside grew closer, their guttural moans echoing off the walls.
---
The gymnasium was cold and cavernous, its high ceilings amplifying every sound. The survivors settled into clusters, their exhaustion palpable. Claire and Evan moved among them, tending to the wounded and distributing what little food and water they had.
Kate stood by one of the windows, her crowbar resting across her lap. She stared out at the city, where the fires still burned and the infected wandered aimlessly.
Her mind drifted to Ryan. She thought of him standing on the sidelines of a game, his whistle around his neck, shouting encouragement to his team. The thought of him out there—alone, possibly hurt—gnawed at her.
"We made it," Claire said, stepping up beside her. Her voice was quiet but laced with a tension that refused to fade.
"For now," Kate replied, her gaze never leaving the horizon.
The silence stretched between them, heavy with unspoken fears.
But they'd made it this far. And as impossible as it seemed, Kate knew they'd have to keep going. For now, the gym was their sanctuary. But the world outside wasn't going to wait.