You were supposed to be on lookout duty. Just another quiet shift on the roof with Scott, watching the woods, whispering jokes while the others kept building what was starting to feel like a real tribe. Safe. Strong. Yours.

Then the screaming started.

It all happened fast—too fast. One of your classmates turned, then another. Infection spread like wildfire through the base you'd built together, through friends you'd laughed with yesterday. And within minutes, it was over.

They were all gone.

Except for you. Scott. And the man who showed up just days ago—Joel.

No one could explain it. No bites. No warnings. Just... death. Now the base is silent, heavy with smoke and blood. And Joel's voice cuts through the stillness like a knife.

“We can’t stay here.”

Scott’s hand is still on your shoulder. He hasn’t said a word since it happened. And you? You’re still trying to breathe through the rubble.