The screaming grows louder, an ear-splitting cacophony that echoes through the desolate halls. The group freezes for a moment, confusion and fear flashing across their faces.

"Hey! Hey!" Thomas and Minho burst around the corner, panic etched into every line of their faces.

"Run! Go!" Minho's shout comes just as figures appear behind them, emerging from the shadows like nightmares clawing into reality.

Katherine's heart lurches. These aren't just people-they're something else. Twisted, monstrous forms with wild, bloodshot eyes and grotesque expressions, driven by something far more primal than hunger.

"Shuck!" Newt curses, his voice tight with dread, his gaze locked on the charging horde.

"Everyone, run!" Katherine grabs the nearest backpack and her gun, instinct overriding hesitation. She spins on her heels, motioning the others to move as Thomas and Minho race past, their breaths ragged and uneven.

The group bolts, feet pounding against the cracked tiles as they sprint toward the escalators. Katherine's pulse roars in her ears, but she doesn't dare look back.

"What the hell are those things?" Chris shouts, his voice trembling as he glances over his shoulder.

"I don't know! Just keep going!" Thomas yells, his tone sharp with urgency.

The escalators loom ahead, their rusted frames groaning under the group's weight as they scramble up. Katherine can feel her lungs burning, the stench of decay in the air making it harder to breathe. Beside her, Chris keeps pace, his face pale but determined.

"They're gaining on us!" Aris cries, his eyes darting to his twin.

A crank lunges out from a side corridor, its grotesque body lurching forward with an animalistic snarl.

"Chris, no!" Aris's voice breaks with panic as Chris tightens his grip on a long metal pole. Without hesitation, Chris charges.

"Stay back!" Chris yells, his voice steady despite the chaos. He swings the pole with brutal force, cracking it against the crank's leg. The creature collapses into a heap, snarling as it crashes into a pile of debris.

"Nice one!" Katherine shouts, her voice laced with relief as she catches up. She spares him a fleeting smile before grabbing his arm and pulling him forward.

"Come on, no time to celebrate!"

Gunshots ring out as Katherine fires at the advancing cranks, each shot precise. But for every one that falls, two more take its place. She shoves her fear down, focusing on her aim. The group reaches another escalator, and they scramble up, the sound of claws scraping metal growing louder.

"Shit," Katherine mutters under her breath. The numbers are overwhelming now. Her gun feels lighter with each shot, the telltale click signaling it's nearly empty.

"Where the hell are we gonna go?" she shouts, desperation slipping into her voice as they reach the next floor.

Thomas is already scanning their surroundings, his eyes wild. "We'll find something!"

A loud crash shatters their momentum. The group whirls around to see a crank barreling through a glass wall, its bloodied limbs tangled with shards. It collides with Newt, dragging him to the ground.

"Newt!" Katherine's scream cuts through the chaos.

Before anyone can react, she's moving. Pure adrenaline drives her as she closes the distance. With every ounce of strength, she kicks the crank square in the face. The impact sends it reeling, its grotesque body toppling over the edge and disappearing into the darkness below.

"Newt, are you okay?" She hauls him to his feet, her hands shaking as she checks him for injuries.

"I'm fine." His voice is breathless, his eyes wide as they meet hers. "Thanks, Kat."

"Don't thank me yet," she mutters, her gaze snapping back to the swarm closing in. "Move!"

The group sprints down a dimly lit hallway, every door they pass locked or blocked by debris. Katherine's legs ache, but she forces herself to keep going, her twin instincts kicking in as she checks on Thomas ahead of her.

"Tommy, we need an exit!"

"I'm working on it!" he shouts back, his voice strained.

The hallway ends abruptly, the group skidding to a stop in front of a metal door. Thomas slams his shoulder against it, frustration etched on his face when it doesn't budge.

"Get us out of here, Thomas!" Teresa yells, her voice breaking.

"This one!" Thomas points to a red door at the far end of the corridor.

Winston doesn't wait. "I'll hold them back!" he declares, stepping forward with his gun raised.

Katherine grips her gun tightly, her breath coming in quick bursts as she takes aim. Each pull of the trigger sends a jolt up her arm, but she doesn't flinch. Crank after crank collapses to the floor, their bodies writhing as electricity crackles over their disfigured forms. A flicker of satisfaction crosses her face-a smirk that barely holds against the chaos. But the moment shatters as the gun clicks empty. Her stomach twists.

"Shit! I'm out!" Her voice cuts through the cacophony, sharp and panicked. Without thinking, she hurls the gun with all her strength. It slams into a crank's face, the sound of bone cracking mingling with its guttural shriek as it crumples to the floor. "Shoot," she mutters, already scanning the area for another weapon.

Behind her, the others are throwing their weight against the door, their grunts of effort mingling with the distant screeches of the cranks. The door doesn't budge, and the sound of the infected barreling down the corridor grows louder, closer.

"We're running out of time!" Thomas shouts, his voice edged with desperation as he slams his shoulder into the door. Katherine meets his gaze for a split second, the silent understanding between twins grounding her even as fear claws at her chest. She nods, her resolve hardening. Not yet. Not like this.

Chris and Aris are side by side, their movements instinctively synchronized as if they share the same pulse. Chris glances at Aris, his protective instincts blazing in his eyes. "Stay behind me," he orders, his voice firm but tinged with concern.

"I'm fine, Chris," Aris snaps, but he stays close, their bond unspoken yet unbreakable. Katherine watches them, a pang of admiration mingling with her fear. Their connection reminds her of her own with Thomas, a silent promise to always protect each other.

"Harder!" Minho barks, shoving against the door alongside Frypan. The wood groans but doesn't give. Sweat drips into Frypan's eyes, but he doesn't falter, his determination as fierce as ever.

Katherine spins around, her back to the group as she faces the oncoming cranks. Their grotesque forms are illuminated by the flickering lights, their snarls and clawed hands reaching for her. She doesn't back down, gripping a rusted pipe she's found on the ground. If she's going down, she's going down fighting.

With a final, bone-rattling slam, the door bursts open. Relief is fleeting as the group surges forward, pushing past the threshold in a desperate scramble. Winston stumbles through last, but before he can clear the door, a clawed hand latches onto his ankle. His scream is raw, piercing the air as the cranks yank him backward.

"Winston!" Frypan's shout is full of panic as he lunges toward him. Katherine doesn't think-she just moves, throwing herself to the ground and grabbing Winston's arm. Her fingers dig into his skin as she pulls with everything she has.

"Hold on!" she yells, her voice trembling with both effort and fear. Aris and Chris are beside her in an instant, their combined strength adding to the effort. Chris's face is a mask of determination as he glances at Aris, who nods silently, their shared resolve unspoken but unwavering.

Winston thrashes, his face twisted in agony as the cranks' claws tear into his abdomen. Blood pools beneath him, the sight making Katherine's stomach churn. She doesn't let go, even as her arms burn with the strain. "We've got you!" she cries, her voice cracking.

Finally, with one last heave, they wrench Winston free. He collapses onto the floor, gasping and pale. Katherine falls back onto her hands, her chest heaving as she stares at the blood on her hands. Her throat tightens, but she forces the rising panic down. They don't have time for that now.

"Shut the door!" Thomas yells, his twin instincts flaring as he shoves his weight against the door alongside Minho. The cranks slam into the other side, the sound echoing through the corridor like thunder. Katherine watches as her brother fights to keep the barrier in place, his face set with determination. She can feel his fear like it's her own.

"Move!" Minho snaps, his tone sharp as a blade. Katherine scrambles to her feet, grabbing Winston's arm as Frypan supports most of his weight. Together, they drag him away from the door, his groans of pain sending shivers down her spine.

They burst into an open space, a forgotten wasteland of rusted cars and broken concrete. The group collapses behind a massive slab of cement, their breaths ragged as they huddle in the shadows. Flashlights click off, and silence falls, broken only by the faint, distant screeches of the cranks.

Katherine presses her back against the concrete, her body trembling as the adrenaline begins to wear off. Beside her, Chris offers a small, shaky smile. "You good?" he asks, his voice low.

She nods, her lips curving into a weak smile. "Yeah. Thanks for earlier." There's a warmth in her tone, a flicker of a budding friendship that feels like a fragile lifeline in the chaos.

Chris shrugs, but there's a hint of pride in his expression. "We look out for each other. That's how we survive."

Hours crawl by, and exhaustion finally pulls Katherine into a restless sleep. She shifts, trying to find a comfortable position, and ends up leaning into something solid and warm. Her brows furrow in her sleep as she snuggles closer, only to jolt awake when she realizes her pillow is breathing.

Her eyes snap open to find Newt beside her, his chest rising and falling steadily. He glances down at her, his lips twitching into a soft smile. "Comfortable?" he teases, his voice a low murmur.

Heat rises to her cheeks, but she's too tired to pull away. "Shut up," she mutters, her tone lacking any real bite. She closes her eyes again, letting herself sink back into the momentary safety of his presence.

The moment is shattered when Thomas's voice rings out, startling the group. "Everyone up! Let's go!" he yells, his voice louder than necessary as he startles a bird into flight. Katherine groans, shooting him a glare as Newt chuckles softly beside her.

"Bloody perfect timing, as always," Newt mutters, helping her to her feet. There's a warmth in his touch, a silent reassurance that steadies her frayed nerves.

Winston groans as he shifts, clutching his bandaged stomach. His face is pale, and his movements are sluggish, but when Frypan crouches beside him, his voice is steady. "You okay, man?"

Winston nods weakly, but the lie is obvious. Katherine exchanges a worried glance with Thomas, the unspoken fear shared between twins.

As the sun rises, the group begins their trek toward the mountains. Each step feels heavier, their breaths shallow and strained. The sand shifts beneath their feet, unsteady and unforgiving, while the air seems to sear their throats with every inhale.

Hours pass before the ruins of a city rise before them, its skeletal buildings crumbling into the sand like forgotten memories. The silence is suffocating, broken only by the crunch of their footsteps.

"What the hell happened to this place?" Frypan mutters, his voice filled with unease as his gaze sweeps over the desolation.

"I don't know," Newt replies, his expression hard as he kicks at a stray piece of rubble. "Doesn't look like anyone's been here in a long time."

"Let's hope the whole world isn't like this," Aris adds grimly, pulling closer to Chris as they navigate the ruins.

Thomas suddenly stops, his body tense. "Wait," he hisses, his voice sharp enough to freeze everyone in place. "Do you hear that?"

"Hear what?" Katherine whispers, her brow furrowing.

Then she hears it-a faint, distant whirring that grows louder with every heartbeat. Recognition strikes like lightning. "Oh, shit," she breathes. "That's WICKED."

"Get down!" Thomas barks, shoving everyone toward the shadows of a crumbling cement ledge. "Hide! Now!"

They scramble for cover as three massive bergs roar into view, their sleek forms slicing through the barren sky. Katherine presses herself against the gritty surface of the ledge, her heart pounding in her ears. Beside her, Chris grips Aris's arm tightly, his jaw set in defiance.

"They're never gonna stop, are they?" Minho mutters, his voice laced with bitterness as he watches the bergs drift into the distance.

"Doesn't look like it," Katherine replies with a heavy sigh, crawling out of their hiding spot. "Everyone okay?"

The group nods, but the exhaustion in their eyes speaks volumes. They press on, determined to keep moving, even as the desert stretches endlessly before them.

When Winston suddenly collapses onto the sandy ground just beyond the city's outskirts, a ripple of panic sweeps through the group.

"Shuck," Frypan curses, rushing to Winston's side. The older boy is pale and shaking, his breath ragged.

They manage to drag him to a shelter as the storm begins to rage, the wind howling and sand whipping against the fragile walls of their refuge. Winston moans in pain, his bandaged abdomen soaked through with blood.

"He's getting worse," Aris murmurs, exchanging a worried glance with Chris.

Thomas is standing near Teresa as they scan the horizon."We've got to keep going," he says firmly. "The mountains aren't far now."

"How far exactly?" Katherine asks, her voice edged with disbelief.

"Just... a little further," Thomas replies, but his tone lacks conviction.

"Not very reassuring, Tommy," Newt mutters under his breath. Then his gaze shifts to Katherine, softening. "Hey."

She looks up, meeting his eyes. "Hey," she answers quietly, a small smile tugging at her lips.

For days now, they've gravitated toward each other, unspoken words lingering between them. But neither has dared to break the silence until now.

"You wanna talk?" Newt asks, his voice gentle as he extends a hand.

"Sure," Katherine replies, her fingers brushing against his as she takes it.

They step outside the shelter, their movements careful to avoid disturbing the others. The air is cool, the storm's fury reduced to a distant rumble.

"How's everything?" Newt asks, his attempt at casual conversation betraying the nerves in his voice.

Katherine sighs, her gaze distant. "Worse."

He nods, his expression somber. "You saved my life back there, you know."

She shrugs, her smile returning faintly. "You saved mine in the Maze. We're even."

A laugh escapes him, soft and warm. "Are we?" he teases, leaning closer.

"Yep," she replies, her voice firm but playful.

In one fluid motion, she wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him down until their lips meet. The kiss is slow and steady, filled with a quiet intensity that drowns out the world around them. When they finally part, Newt presses a lingering kiss to her forehead, his hands resting gently on her waist.

"I can't lose you," he whispers, his voice barely audible.

"You won't," Katherine promises, her words resolute.

A sharp crack echoes through the air, shattering their moment. Both of them jerk upright, their eyes wide with alarm.

"Hey!" Frypan's voice booms, filled with fear and confusion.

"Guys, get down here!" Aris calls out, his voice sharp with urgency.

Thomas and Teresa race back to the shelter first, Katherine and Newt right behind them. Their feet pound against the sand as their hearts race in unison, the tension choking the air.

"What happened?" Katherine gasps, her eyes darting around as they skid to a halt.

The scene before them sends a cold wave of dread through her. Winston is on the ground, clutching his stomach, his face a mask of agony and despair. Frypan holds a trembling grip on the gun, his knuckles white.

"He just-he woke up, grabbed the gun, and tried to-" Frypan stammers, his voice cracking as panic overwhelms him.

"Give it back!" Winston pleads desperately, his voice raw as he reaches for the weapon. His breaths come in sharp, uneven gasps, and his sunken eyes flicker with desperation.

Thomas crouches down, his hand gently resting on Winston's back. "Hey, hey, calm down," he says softly, trying to steady him. But before he can say more, Winston lurches forward, coughing violently.

Black blood splatters onto the ground.

Thomas recoils, his hand flying back as the bile pools on the sand. "Oh," he whispers, his face pale.

The group falls silent, their breaths held as Winston weakly pulls himself away from the blackened stain. His movements are sluggish, every inch an effort. He gazes up at them, his eyes hollow, his expression resigned.

"It's... growing," Winston rasps, his voice barely audible. With trembling hands, he pulls back his shirt to reveal his abdomen. The decayed, rotting flesh sends a collective chill through the group.

Katherine's heart clenches painfully in her chest. A tear slips down her cheek before she quickly wipes it away.

"Winston..." she murmurs, her voice breaking. She feels utterly helpless, a suffocating weight pressing down on her as she watches her friend deteriorate.

"I'm not gonna make it," he says, his words punctuated by shallow, labored breaths. "Please. Don't let me turn into one of those things."

The plea slices through the air, raw and final.

Newt steps forward, his face tight with emotion. He doesn't speak as he takes the gun from Frypan's shaking hands, his movements steady despite the turmoil brewing inside him. He kneels before Winston, holding the gun out to him.

"Thank you," Winston whispers, his voice filled with a painful mix of gratitude and sorrow. He grips the gun tightly, his fingers trembling. "Now... get outta here."

Newt doesn't reply. He stands, his jaw clenched as he slings his backpack over his shoulder and walks away. Katherine watches him, her heart twisting at the way his shoulders sag under the weight of the moment.

Chris hesitates before kneeling beside Winston. He places a gentle hand on his shoulder, his eyes soft with compassion. "You're going somewhere better," he says quietly, his words a balm against the harsh reality. "No more pain, no more running. It'll be okay."

Winston nods weakly, and Chris gives his shoulder a reassuring pat before retreating.

The rest of the group follows, each offering their final goodbyes. Minho's hand briefly lingers on Winston's arm, a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken bond they all share. Frypan mutters something under his breath, his voice too choked to be clear, while Aris looks back, his gaze filled with unspoken grief as Chris touches his arm, grounding him.

Thomas kneels next to Winston, his twin sister just behind him. "I'm sorry," he whispers, his voice breaking as tears shine in his eyes.

Katherine steps closer, her hand brushing Thomas's shoulder as she fights to steady her voice. "We're so sorry, Winston," she says, her heart aching with every word.

As they turn to leave, Winston's voice calls out one last time. "Thomas. Kat."

They stop, glancing back at him.

"Take care of them," Winston says, his gaze shifting between the two of them. It's a command, a plea, and a farewell all in one.

Thomas nods stiffly, unable to speak, while Katherine chokes back a sob. "We will," she whispers.

With heavy hearts, the twins join the others. The shelter grows smaller in the distance, but the weight of leaving Winston behind lingers heavily on their shoulders.

The gunshot rings out, sharp and final, cutting through the silence like a blade.

No one speaks. No one dares to break the fragile quiet as the group presses on. The sound echoes in their minds, a haunting reminder of the cruel world they're trapped in.

They finally halt at a flipped cargo container, exhaustion etched into every face. As the night settles around them, the loss of their friend hangs in the air, unspoken but deeply felt.

Aris and Chris work together, their movements fluid as they gather wood from the nearby containers and quickly build a fire. The flames crackle, casting shadows that dance across their faces, but no one speaks at first. The weight of the day, of everything they've endured, hangs heavily in the air.

Minho stares at the fire, his expression tight with unrelenting tension. His voice cuts through the quiet, low and solemn.

"I thought we were supposed to be immune," Minho says, his gaze distant as he watches the flickering flames.

Teresa glances at him, her face drawn with fatigue. "Not all of us, I guess."

Newt leans back against a rock, his arm resting against Katherine, who sits beside him. Her head drops against his shoulder as he takes her hand, their fingers entwining without thought. The warmth from the fire and Newt's steady presence offer some comfort, but Katherine can feel the gnawing fear beneath the surface.

"If Winston can get infected... we should assume so can the rest of us," Newt says, his voice quieter, more weighted. Katherine tilts her head to look up at him, and there's a quiet understanding in her eyes.

Frypan sits apart from the others, his head bowed, shoulders slumped. A tear slips down his cheek, his hand brushing it away as though trying to make it vanish. "I never thought I'd say it... I miss the Glade," he murmurs, his voice trembling.

The group falls into an oppressive silence once more, the fire their only source of light and warmth in the dark. Katherine's mind drifts, carried back to the Glade-memories both good and bad colliding in her mind.

The fire crackles louder now, but none of them speak again. The silence stretches, heavy with the weight of loss and uncertainty. But despite everything, despite the fear and the unknown, there's something in the air-something that feels like family. A bond stronger than the world's chaos. They might be scattered, but they are together. And together, they will survive.