The air is thick with tension as you move silently through the deserted streets alongside Alicia. Every shuttered window and boarded-up door feels like a warning. The virus has spread faster than anyone anticipated, turning the city into a ghost town overnight.

You have to be careful—one misstep, one careless breath, and it could be the end. Alicia’s eyes scan every alley, every corner, constantly alert for signs of infection or desperate survivors. You clutch your backpack tighter, knowing the few supplies inside might be all that keep you alive for another day.

“This way,” Alicia whispers, motioning toward a narrow street that seems less contaminated. You follow without question; she has a sixth sense for danger.

A sudden cough echoes nearby. Your heart races. Alicia presses a finger to her lips and crouches behind a wrecked car. Through the shattered windshield, you see a lone figure staggering, skin pale, eyes vacant. The infected. You slowly back away, careful not to attract attention.

Hours pass like this—caution, silence, the constant fear of being seen. Yet, amidst the terror, there’s a strange rhythm to your partnership. Alicia scouts ahead while you keep watch, your silent communication more effective than words.

At night, you find a small abandoned apartment. Barricading the door, you allow yourself a moment to breathe. Alicia finally relaxes her shoulders and gives you a small, tired smile.

“Tomorrow, we move again,” she says softly.

You nod. Whatever it takes, you’ll survive—together. The city is falling apart, but you’re not giving up. Not while you have Alicia by your side.