The sound of something squishy and large hitting the pavement came from behind him.
Not water. Not rain. A sound too thick, too meaty.
He turned-just in time to see a man's head hit the concrete, his skull splitting open and blood leaking from the wound.

Then came the screaming.

It's like the air changed temperature. Suddenly, the heat wasn't the problem anymore. The sound of flesh tearing was louder than the screams. People were running in every direction. Rolen was no exception, his heart thundering in his chest, panic taking hold.

He bolted.

But without looking, Rolen crashed into something-no, someone. A man. Tall, broad-shouldered, with a face that looked like it came out of a magazine and eyes sharp enough to cut. His dark hair was cropped short, military-style, and when he grabbed Rolen's arm, his grip was as solid as the rest of him.

"You want to die?" the guy growled, yanking Rolen to his feet. "Then keep running that way."

Rolen hesitated. His eyes met the stranger's for just a second-then he did as the stranger said and kept running. His pulse roared in his ears. Ahead, he spotted a woman kneeling on the pavement, sobbing over a motionless body. Her mascara streaked down her cheeks, fingers clutching at a torn shirt soaked in blood.

Rolen didn't hesitate and grabbed the woman's arm, dragging her to her feet. "We need to run! It's not safe here!"
To his surprise, she didn't argue-just nodded, mouth trembling, and stumbled into step beside him.

Behind them, the tall man was running too, flanked by another woman-blonde, dazed, still wearing heels from the night before.

They turned a corner. An open door. Rolen didn't hesitate. He darted inside, dragging the sobbing woman with him. The others followed, the door slamming shut just as a hand clawed at the frame. The sweet sound of a lock falling into place earned a small moment of relief.

They had burst into what looked like a breakroom-old chairs stacked in one corner, a chipped countertop with a microwave long out of service, and a half-stocked vending machine blinking uselessly in the dim light. The air smelled faintly of stale coffee and something metallic. A folding table stood near the center of the room, its surface scratched and uneven, and someone had left a faded first aid kit on top, though it looked like it hadn't been touched in years.

Pounding erupted against the other side. Clawed fingers scraped the wood and muffled growls and moans echoed from behind the door.

The blonde woman screamed-a sharp, high-pitched sound that cracked halfway through. She backed into a corner, clutching her head like she could block out the noise, tears streaming down her face while her body shook.

Rolen stumbled back from the door, breath heaving, his feet still moving backwards until his back hit the wall, slowly sliding down it until he hit the floor.

The stranger who'd grabbed him earlier braced the door with one shoulder, peeking through a crack in the blinds. It didn't take long for the infected to lose interest and shuffle off toward the next sign of life.

Then there was silence...

Well, more like a sound that wandered away until all one could hear was their own heartbeat drumming in their ears. One final thump, then just the ragged breathing of everyone in the room-everyone except for the tall man who had pulled Rolen to safety.

Rolen let his head fall back against the wall, damp white hairs sticking to his forehead. His mind racing. What in the world happened? Was it a virus? What about Damon? Last Rolen saw him, he was unloading boxes inside. He could still be alive.
His hand automatically reached for his phone. The screen lit up, but there was no signal. Even his notification bar was a wasteland. He tried texting Damon anyway-just something like "Are you okay?"-but it hung there, unsent. He stared at the screen until it dimmed.

Rolen's gaze slowly shifted, eyeing the people here one by one, stuffing his phone back into his black jeans. The woman he had pulled with him-she sat on the floor, hands trembling as she wiped them over her jeans again and again. Probably desperately trying to get the blood off. The body he had pulled her away from probably belonged to someone very important to her.

Then he looked over at the guy.
The large, muscled man hadn't taken his eyes off the door. He stood by it like a statue, muscles tense but not panicked. His hands balled into fists at his sides.

"...That was real, right?" one of the girls asked finally, voice raw. "I didn't-hallucinate that?"
The tall man finally stepped back from the door and turned toward them. His eyes looked the other survivors over one by one, assessing their state both physically and mentally.

"First things first, we'll need to block the windows." His voice was low, almost thoughtful. "Make sure nothing gets in this space. I will check if there is a back entrance." The guy's eyes scanned the room a bit more, checking everything.

Only then did Rolen notice the way he glanced at the curtain rod, the vents, the shape of the room. He wasn't just looking-he was assessing. Like he'd been trained to. Rolen knew the look. It reminded him of instructors back in engineering school, when they walked into a broken system and saw the logic buried under the chaos.

"You seem too calm after all that. Are you military?" Rolen asked before he could stop himself.

"You're observant, that's good. Yes, my name is Nathan," the man replied. "I'm a combat medic."

He didn't offer more than that.

While Nathan disappeared around the corner, checking the back door of the building, Rolen took this moment and slowly got up. His knees were still shaking, yet he didn't let that stop him.

His gaze shifted over to the blonde-the girl Nathan had dragged with him. He wondered if she knew the combat medic or if they were all strangers in a room.

The blonde stood in the corner of the room, her party dress hugging her figure tightly. She had already taken her heels off and stood there on bare feet. Maybe it was the way she stood, or maybe it was the way she wrapped her arms around herself. Either way, something about her rubbed Rolen the wrong way.

"Are you okay?" Rolen asked the blonde, his voice breaking the deafening silence. He didn't move from his spot, though-Rolen didn't want to scare her by coming too close.

"I'm fine," the woman muttered, not even acknowledging Rolen at all.
"If you're hurt, I'm sure the-"

"I said I'm fine!" the blonde snapped, interrupting Rolen mid-sentence and shooting death glares at him.

Taken aback by her sudden outburst, Rolen fell silent, both the brunette and Rolen now staring at her with confusion and worry.

The yelling caught Nathan's attention as well, who now reentered the room with a stern expression on his face. Catching the engineer's attention, Rolen's eyes shifted to look at Nathan-only to meet his straight on. How long had he already been looking at him?

Nathan's gaze went from Rolen to the blonde and eyed her a little bit before approaching her, making a mental note of her behavior.
"If you are wounded, we need to check it now. You can put us all in danger by staying silent," Nathan stated, his voice stern. The woman didn't take it well, though.

"I said I was fine! Now get off my case!" she hissed at him, her body tense, her hand clutching her arm even more now-her knuckles turning white.

Nathan stared at her for a minute, his expression quite annoyed, turning back to Rolen and the brunette. Their eyes met once more.
"How about you two? Anyone hurt?"

Rolen shook his head, glancing at his own arms and legs-almost to make sure himself that he was fine. "I'm okay, I think."

The brunette, red puffy eyes from the crying, shook her head as well. "N-no... the b-blood isn't mine..." she whispered. Her voice croaky as she looked down at the dried blood that still coated her hands.

"That's good." Nathan nodded slowly, but his eyes lingered on the blonde.

Rolen followed his gaze. She was staring at the wall, silent now, arms still wrapped tight around herself. His eyes looked over her stance, wondering why she was so defensive about a possible injury. Perhaps she didn't like to accept help from others? Maybe it was a hangover? Rolen couldn't quite place it. His eyes flicked over to her hand-a small movement catching his attention. Her fingers... they were twitching...