The metal door slammed behind Lena with a loud, echoing boom.
She pressed her back hard against it, heart hammering against her ribs, listening to the snarls and clawing fingers just inches away. Her palms, slick with sweat and blood, fumbled for anything to wedge against the door — her foot caught the broken leg of a chair and jammed it under the handle.
The monsters outside didn't stop.
They pounded.
They scratched.
They waited.
The tiny office was suffocating. Papers were scattered everywhere, dried blood painted the cracked floor tiles, and the only light came from a single, flickering ceiling bulb that buzzed like a dying insect.
Lena fell onto her knees, shivering, cradling her arms around herself.
She hadn't eaten since yesterday. She hadn't slept.
Her body trembled from shock, hunger, and terror.
She whispered Ethan's name under her breath.
Over and over.
A prayer. A curse. A lifeline.
She slammed her fist against the cold floor, her mind racing:
"How did this happen? What were we thinking? Ethan, where are you?"
The metal door groaned again, bending slightly under another brutal hit from the other side.
Lena crawled backward until she was wedged between a broken filing cabinet and the wall.
There was no way out.
Not tonight.
---
Time lost meaning.
Hours melted into darkness as the sun set outside the shattered windows of the police station.
The groans outside faded into a dull, constant background noise — a reminder that death was only a door away.
Lena's stomach cramped with hunger.
She tore open a random drawer, hoping — praying — for something, anything.
Old files. Useless pens. A single crushed granola bar wrapper with no food left inside. She crumpled it in frustration and threw it across the room.
Her hands shook violently.
She hadn't realized until now how alone she was.
The night was freezing.
She wrapped her arms around herself tighter, teeth chattering, tears slipping silently down her cheeks.
And yet, despite the horror, despite the exhaustion, she couldn't sleep.
She kept seeing Ethan's face in her mind — smiling at her from across the lab bench, laughing when she dropped a beaker, winking when they made secret bets about who would ruin the next experiment.
"Please be alive," she whispered into the darkness.
"Please..."
Outside, a zombie slammed itself against the door with a wet, disgusting thud.
She didn't flinch anymore.
She just closed her eyes and wished for morning.
---
A beam of light sliced across the floor.
Lena blinked blearily, disoriented.
For a terrifying moment, she thought she was hallucinating.
But no — the first morning sun had broken through the clouds outside.
It poured through a tiny crack — a broken window high on the wall near the ceiling.
Her heart stumbled in her chest.
Hope.
Shakily, she pushed herself to her feet. Every muscle screamed. She was dehydrated, her lips cracked, her stomach a gnawing pit of pain.
She staggered to the window.
It wasn't big — barely a foot and a half wide — but she could fit through it if she tried.
If she really tried.
Outside, she saw nothing but empty, ruined streets.
But it was freedom.
Lena looked back at the door one last time.
The infected were still there. Still waiting.
She wiped the sweat from her forehead with a trembling hand, took a deep, shaky breath...
And climbed onto the broken desk under the window.
The desk creaked dangerously under her weight.
She gritted her teeth and pushed upward.
The window frame was jagged and rusted. It bit into her skin as she pulled herself up, scraping her arms and back. Blood trickled down her side, but she didn't care.
She pushed.
She squeezed.
The metal frame caught her sweatshirt and tore it — she ripped it free with a growl.
Finally — finally — she spilled out onto the concrete outside, collapsing in a bruised, bleeding heap.
For a few seconds, she just lay there, gasping for air, feeling the blessed cold morning air fill her lungs.
Then she heard the growls behind her.
Zombies — some had heard her escape.
She scrambled to her feet and ran.
---
The streets were a wasteland.
Shattered glass, abandoned cars, smoke rising from distant fires.
Bodies everywhere — some moving, most not.
Lena limped down the sidewalk, barely able to keep herself upright.
She needed food. Water. Shelter.
She spotted a convenience store across the street, its windows cracked but mostly intact.
Hope surged again.
She sprinted — or tried to. Her legs felt like they were made of lead.
Every step was agony.
She pushed open the door of the store — it jingled weakly on broken hinges — and stumbled inside.
And froze.
The store was crawling with zombies.
Half-eaten clerks, infected customers — they all turned toward her at the sound.
Their milky, bloodshot eyes locked onto her.
The closest one — a tall man in a shredded business suit — roared and lunged.
Lena barely had time to grab a baseball bat from a nearby shelf.
She swung wildly, connecting with a sickening crack against the man's head.
He collapsed — but more came.
Five.
Six.
Maybe more.
Her hands slipped on the bat, bloody and sweaty.
She swung again, and again, fighting not with skill but with pure survival instinct.
One of them grabbed her hoodie — she yanked free, leaving it behind.
Another caught her arm — she slammed her elbow into its face, snapping its nose sideways.
Tears streamed down her face — from terror, from fury, from hopelessness — but she didn't stop.
She couldn't.
She had to survive.
She had to find Ethan.
The battle inside the store was a blur of blood, screams, and crashing shelves.
The infected were relentless.
She knew she couldn't win this fight — not forever.
She needed another way out.
Her eyes flicked to the back of the store — a broken delivery door swinging loose.
With a final desperate shove, she hurled herself through the crowd of infected, bat swinging wildly.
A hand caught her ankle — she kicked free.
Another grabbed at her hair — she ripped away.
She burst out into the back alley behind the store — heart slamming in her ears, legs barely holding her up.
She collapsed behind a dumpster, gasping, bleeding, shaking.
Safe — for now.
But not for long.
Not in this new world.
Not without Ethan.