The night air was thick with an unnatural stillness. Twelve hours left. The world was balanced on the edge of a blade, oblivious to the doom about to unfold.
Ethan, Olivia, and Noah moved quickly through the deserted streets, Blaze padding silently beside them. Their weapons were secured, their supplies packed—but there was still one last thing Ethan needed before the world fell apart.
A safehouse.
"We need a location to fall back to," Ethan said as they moved through a side street. "Somewhere defensible."
Noah, ever the skeptic, scoffed. "And you have a place in mind?"
Ethan smirked. "Yeah. A high-rise, north side of the city. Private access, underground storage, backup generators."
Olivia arched a brow. "Sounds too perfect."
Ethan's expression darkened. "It should be. It belonged to a guy who didn't make it past the first week."
Noah whistled. "Lucky for us, then."
They picked up their pace, but as they turned a corner—Blaze suddenly tensed.
His golden eyes sharpened, his fur bristling with static. A low growl rumbled from his throat.
Ethan immediately knew what that meant.
Something was wrong.
Olivia drew her pistol. "Talk to me."
Ethan glanced around, scanning the street. Everything looked normal. But Blaze's instincts were never wrong.
Then he heard it.
A faint, distant scream.
It was cut short. Abrupt. Wet.
The first sign.
Ethan's blood ran cold. It's starting.
The First Infected
They sprinted toward the sound. Ethan already knew what they'd find, but seeing it in person still sent ice through his veins.
A man lay sprawled on the pavement, twitching. His skin was pale, veins darkened with black corruption. His eyes fluttered, unfocused, his body convulsing as if something inside him was trying to break free.
A few feet away, a woman stood frozen in horror, hands over her mouth. "H-He just collapsed…" she whispered. "He—"
Then the man stopped moving.
The street fell silent.
Ethan took a slow step back. "We need to go. Now."
The woman turned to them, confused. "What? But he—"
The man's eyes snapped open.
Pitch-black. Empty. Wrong.
Then he lunged.
The woman's scream barely had time to escape her throat before teeth sank into her shoulder.
Blood sprayed.
It had begun.
Flight or Fight?
Olivia fired first. A single bullet between the man's eyes.
He jerked back, momentarily stunned—but didn't fall.
Ethan cursed. Too early. They're still resistant.
Noah didn't hesitate. He lifted his rifle—three rapid shots.
One in the head. Two in the spine.
The infected man finally collapsed.
The woman was still screaming, clutching her bleeding shoulder. It was too late for her.
Ethan clenched his fists. He knew what would happen next.
She had minutes.
But he wasn't heartless.
He turned to Olivia and Noah. "We move. Now."
They took off, Blaze at their heels, leaving the woman behind.
As they sprinted through the streets, Ethan felt it—the shift in the air.
A city that had been normal just an hour ago… was about to become a graveyard.
The apocalypse had begun.