The laughter hadn’t even died down when a voice cut through the crowd.

“Enough noise.”

A man stepped out from the far corner of the Lost & Found cabin. He wore a faded railway uniform, collar unbuttoned, sleeves rolled up. A heavy flashlight hung from his belt, and a radio crackled at his side.

His presence shifted the mood again—calm, but commanding.

Everyone turned.

“Who is this guy?” Masaru asked, to a nearby person.

The man gave a short nod. “Station Officer Sudo. He have been holding this outpost since the outbreak.”

Yamada crossed his arms. “He... still, working?”

“He's still alive,” a person replied bluntly. “That’s all that counts right now.”

J-in, still basking in his accidental stardom, took a step closer. “So he is just a scapegoat?”

"Obviously." Yamada whispered in his ears.

Sudo looked around at the small group gathered behind him—families, a couple of elderly folks, and some young workers.

Someone from behind didn’t waste time. “Any chance there’s a train out of here?”

“There’s one more scheduled maintenance transport—It’s stopping here in less than an hour.”

Sudo replied. “Auto-pilot mostly. No driver. But it’ll pass through this platform… and it’s going north.”

Masaru’s jaw tightened, “North?” in a low voice.

Sudo nodded. “To Zone E-27. A fortified checkpoint near Saitama. Word is, it’s one of the last safe zones.”

Some-one’s voice cracked slightly. “Then we get on that train.”

Sudo frowned. “There’s a problem. It won’t stop unless someone manually flags it. It only slows to about 15 km/h—too fast for the old or injured to safely jump on. We’ll need to switch the platform signal and override the emergency brake relay.”

He paused for a moment, then added, “And the bigger issue is the crowd. There are already dozens of people waiting near the platform, and they far outnumber us. Even if the train slows to 15 km/h, at least 20 or 30 people still won’t be able to get on.”

Masaru stepped forward, jaw tight.
“So what you’re saying is—this train’s going to roll through, and it’s survival of the fastest?”

Sudo didn’t answer right away.

J-in rubbed his neck, muttering, “Man, 15 km/h doesn’t sound like much until you’ve got a sprained ankle and panic breathing down your neck.”

Sakura clenched her fists. “There’s got to be another way. What if we help regulate the boarding? Get the most vulnerable on first?”

“Even if we do,” Yamada said quietly, “it won’t stop the panic. People will rush. Climb over each other. Some might even start fighting.”

Kaito scoffed. “And what? We become train bouncers now?”

Masaru looked back at Sudo.
“What do we need to do to switch the signal?”

Yamada leaned in close to J-in, his voice barely audible beneath the low rumble of the station.

“He’s making us the scapegoat,” Yamada whispered, eyes fixed on Sudo. “Can’t you see it?”

J-in turned slightly, frowning. “What do you mean?”

Yamada kept his voice low. “All this talk about switching the signal. He knows it's difficult out there. If this goes wrong — and it will — guess who’ll take the fall?”

J-in glanced toward Sudo, who was busy pointing something out on a station map to Masaru. “You think he’s setting us up?”

“I think he’s desperate,” Yamada said. “And desperate people don’t care who gets burned, as long as it’s not them.”

Sudo turned, walking to a small steel cabinet bolted to the wall. He opened it, revealing a dusty control panel.
“There’s a manual override switch here—tied to the old maintenance network. It hasn’t been used in years. But if we can get it running, we can signal the train to stop just long enough.”

“And the brake relay?” Yamada asked.

Sudo nodded. “That’s trickier. It’s on the opposite end of the terminal, inside the substation room. Someone will need to get there manually. It’s about 100 meters through the upper tunnel—and it’s dark.”

Silence fell.

Then J-in raised his hand weakly.
“Not volunteering or anything, but… who here knows how to wire up an override relay?”

Masaru looked around.
No one answered.

Sudo finally said, “I can talk you through it. But whoever goes will need to be fast—and lucky.”

Masaru exhaled slowly, then looked at the group.
“We split. Half stay here and prep the crowd. Calm them, guide them. The other half gets that brake line fixed.”

“Time?” Yamada asked.

Sudo checked his watch. “Train’s coming in 20 minutes.”

Masaru’s eyes narrowed.

“Then let’s move.”

The platform was already packed. Nearly a hundred people stood crowding around the edges, staring into the darkness of the tunnel.

More people began to arrive. From broken alleys, maintenance stairs, even from behind shuttered stores—survivors trickling in, drawn by the rumor of a train. Some limped. Some carried children. All looked desperate.

J-in let out a low whistle. "Well... so much for first class."

Masaru pushed forward through the edge of the crowd, scanning for a place where they could set up a guiding line. "We’ll need a path cleared to the edge. And fast."

Sakura and Kaito followed, Kaito already muttering. "These people are gonna riot the second they hear it won’t stop."

Meanwhile—

Yamada, Sudo, and J-in broke off toward the opposite end of the terminal, ducking into a narrow side corridor that led toward the upper tunnel system.

The lights here were dimmer. The ceiling lower.

Sudo led the way, flashlight bouncing off rusted pipes and crumbling concrete.

"The substation is straight ahead. It's not locked, but it's old. Manual switch is inside. Should still be powered from the backup grid."

Yamada kept glancing over his shoulder. "You sure nothing's down here?"

Sudo gave a wry smile. "Not sure of anything anymore."

J-in trailed behind, carrying the backup battery they'd rigged together from old rail equipment.

"This better work," he muttered. "Because I swear, if we come all this way and the door’s jammed—"

Sudo stopped.

A small maintenance door stood in front of them. 

He knelt, reached into a side panel, and flipped open a fuse box.

The lights above flickered... and came alive.

Yamada looked at Sudo. "You ready to wire this thing up?" 

Sudo glanced at his watch, sweat lining his brow.

"Ten minutes," he said, voice tense. "That’s all we’ve got before the train hits this platform."

J-in groaned. “Of course. Nothing ever comes with a buffer.”

Sudo knelt beside the exposed panel, wires tangled like a rat’s nest. Masaru crouched beside him, flashlight gripped between his teeth as he held the lid open.

“Red to yellow?” Sudo muttered. “No. Red to blue. Maybe…”

The lights above flickered—then sparked.

“Hey! That a good sign?” Kaito asked, glancing back at the platform behind them where a crowd was swelling—more and more survivors stumbling in from the city, gathering in anxious murmurs.

Yamada peered over the railing. “There’s gotta be over a hundred people down there.”

Sudo gritted his teeth. “Just… need… a stable ground—”

The panel lit green.

“Got it!” he snapped. “Brakes should engage if we flag it fast enough—”

But before he could finish, the screech of metal echoed from the tunnel.

A blinding headlight pierced the darkness.

“The train’s here?! Already?!”

“Five minutes early!” someone shouted.

Sudo’s eyes went wide. “We have to flag it NOW!”

Masaru jumped to the switch. Pulled hard.

A loud CLANK! snapped through the air, followed by the sound of brakes grinding against the rails—harsh and sudden.

Screams echoed from the crowd as the train rumbled past.

It didn’t stop completely—but slowed drastically. The front compartments screeched into the lit part of the station. The rest of the train—several dark cars—still sat deep inside the tunnel.

But the doors at the front hissed open.

“There’s space!” Someone yelled. “We can all fit!”

“Two minutes max!” Sudo barked. “That’s all we’ve got before it auto-restarts the circuit!”

situation burst into motion.

The crowd surged forward—panic-fueled, desperate, and loud.

Kaito grabbed Sakura’s wrist and pulled her along, while Masaru shouted over his shoulder, “Stick to the wall! Avoid the center—don’t get trampled!”

Sudo, Yamada, and J-in were still far—too far.

A hundred meters of chaos stretched between them and the slowing train.

"YO!" Masaru yelled, slamming his palm against the manual door control. The panel clicked, red light blinking. He held it firm, grinding his teeth.

Kaito did the same on the opposite door, sweat streaking down his temple. “They’re not gonna make it unless we hold this!”

J-in sprinted ahead, wild-eyed. “Move! MOVE!”

Sudo clutched the relay pack to his chest as he dodged flailing limbs and panicked screams. His breath came in ragged gasps.

Yamada was behind them both, pushing his legs harder than he had all day. “Don’t stop! Don’t look back!”

The crowd was a wave—shoulders slamming, people crying, one man falling and disappearing beneath the stampede.

Masaru pressed harder against the blinking button. “Come on, damn it. Come on!”

Thirty meters.

“J-in!!” Kaito shouted, eyes locked on the blur of movement.

J-in didn’t answer—just kept running, teeth clenched, leaping over a dropped bag, ducking under someone’s swinging elbow.

Fifteen meters.

“Almost there!” Sakura shouted, eyes wide as she leaned out of the doorway.

Sudo nearly tripped—Yamada caught him mid-run and pulled him upright. “You drop that box, we’re not stopping this thing again!”

Ten meters.

Kaito’s arm was shaking from the force, but he didn’t dare lift it. “If the doors close before they make it—!”

Masaru grunted. “Not happening.”

J-in dove in first, sliding like a baseball player into the open compartment.

Sudo stumbled in next, panting, nearly dropping the relay pack.

Yamada’s boots thundered on the platform.

He was the last one—just a few meters from the door.

Inside, Masaru was yelling something. J-in was already on the floor, chest heaving.

Kaito stood by the edge of the doorway, arm stretched out.

Yamada’s heart raced.

He saw that hand—reaching for him.

Almost there.

He jumped.

Kaito caught his wrist.

For a second… relief.

Kaito focus shifted on the bite mark on his wrist.

Then—

A shift in pressure.

A shove.

Yamada’s eyes widened.

“What the—?!”

Kaito’s palm slammed against his chest mid-air.

Yamada’s boots scraped the edge—
His fingers clawed for grip—

But he didn’t make it.

THUD.

He hit the platform hard, skidding across the concrete as the train door hissed shut in his face.

“YAMADA!!”
Masaru’s voice echoed like a gunshot.

Sudo spun, eyes wide, and grabbed Kaito by the collar, slamming him back against the compartment wall.
J-in stumbled to the door, banging against the glass.
Sakura froze—eyes locked on the platform, lips trembling.

Yamada lay still just outside, groaning… trying to rise.

“What the hell did you just do?!” Sudo snarled, shaking Kaito.

Masaru was at the door controls, slamming buttons. “Open it! OPEN IT, DAMMIT!”

Kaito’s voice cut through the chaos.

“He’s infected!”
—Paused,
"Everyone knew."

Yamada had a bite mark.

Yamada was infected.

But he was still Yamada.

Sudo’s grip tightened. “That’s not your call.”

Masaru’s eyes burned. “You don’t get to decide who lives and dies.”

Kaito looked away, jaw clenched. “He could turn at any moment. I did what I had to.”

Sakura’s voice cracked, barely audible. “You… you didn’t have to do that…”

Her hands trembled.

J-in sat back slowly, face pale.

The train roared forward through the dark, but no one spoke.

No one even breathed.

Behind them, far on the platform…

Yamada slowly rose to his knees. Bleeding. Breathing.

Alone.

"What The fuck!" Yamada sneered over the train.

Yamada stayed on his knees for a moment, his breath ragged, eyes locked on the departing train.

Then—

Movement.

His gaze snapped toward the end of the platform.

The final two train compartments—still stretching in the tunnel darkness—were filled with zombies.

Bloated, staggering, packed shoulder-to-shoulder in the last cars.

They hadn’t noticed the others.

But they noticed him.

As the train jolted and picked up speed, the infected jerked violently, slamming against the compartment windows.

And then—

The door connecting the last car creaked open.

The infected began shambling forward, clawing their way to the next compartments.Towards where Masaru, Sakura, J-in, and the others were. There are 4 compartments in between them.

Yamada’s eyes widened.

“No…”

He staggered to his feet, blood on his palms, chest pounding.

The wind whipped across the tunnel.

And then—

He spotted it.

A broken service hatch. Hanging open on the side of the moving train—about two cars ahead.

The door flapped wildly, like it had been torn loose from a crash.

It was a long shot.

A death wish.

But it was something.

Yamada gritted his teeth, took a few steps back—

And ran.