"But Camila, we won't be able to play cops together without the other one," Tio whined, his frustration spewing out like a volcano ready to erupt any minute. I rummaged through his bag in search of the elusive yellow Pokémon walkie-talkie.

Monica stood beside him, her patience a silent anchor amidst Tio's growing desperation. I shifted through the contents of his bag, hoping to salvage this situation. Action figures and crayons yielded nothing but disappointment, leaving my brother on the brink of a meltdown. Mornings were clearly not his forte.

"Hey, at least we've got the movie," I offered, holding up Talladega Nights in a feeble attempt to lift his spirits.

But Tio's eyes, heavy with sadness, met mine with a profound sense of disappointment. His plans for a fun day with his friend had crumbled before his eyes. Glancing at the time on my phone, I realized with a sinking feeling that it was already 9;15 AM, and another text from Sammy asking my whereabouts. My stomach grumbled at the thought of missing out on breakfast with the girls.

After staying up late the previous night, I had found myself engrossed in a conversation with Sammy, reliving every moment with Dominic and sharing every last detail of the evening's gossip.

"Could you go and get it?" Tio's plea hung in the air, laden with desperation.

I winced, a surge of pain stabbing at the center of my brain as I rubbed the bridge of my nose. "I can't, Tio. I'm already running late," I explained, the urgency in my voice betraying my frazzle state.

Monica, ever the soothing presence, knelt down beside him, her gentle touch a comforting reassurance. "How about you guys watch the movie now while I cook up some pancakes and bacon?" she suggested, her voice infused with warmth.

"I think that's a great idea," I chimed in, offering a smile of agreement.

His bowed head tugged at my heartstrings. "Okay," he murmured softly, his voice heavy with resignation.

His word giving me the green light to leave for the elevators, I glanced back one last time, offering a final wave to Monica and my baby brother. Tio's gaze locked onto mine, silently pleading, and for a moment, I hesitated, torn between staying to console him and racing against the ticking clock.

But as my panic surged anew, fueled by the relentless march of time, I knew I had to press on. With a heavy heart, I squared my shoulders, griping tightly around my purse, and forced myself to walk away.

Stepping through the back door, the biting chill of the morning air enveloped me, sending a shiver all over. The sound of sirens pierced through my ears, their wails echoing off the walls of our colossal building. Glancing to my right, I caught sight of two police cars tearing down West Street, their flashing lights painting streaks of red and blue as they zoomed on by.

It was a scene I'd grown accustomed to, the relentless pursuit of justice playing out before me day after day. But tonight felt different, an unsettling unease sunk in the pit of my stomach as I surveyed the desolate streets. There was an eerie absence, a conspicuous lack of life that left me on edge. Even the homeless man who often sought refuge by our dumpsters, his ramblings about the impending apocalypse a familiar backdrop to our daily lives, was nowhere to be found.

Making my way across the parking lot, I scanned the rows of cars, searching from my beaten- up white hooptie. Fumbling for my phone, I dialed Sammy's number, praying she hadn't left for gas or some other errand. The phone rang incessantly in my ear, each unanswered ring amplifying the growing sense of dread gnawing at my insides. I surely would hear it from my boss later.

Amidst the persistent ringing, another sound began to intrude, a discordant symphony of ringtones echoing through the morning air.

With Sammy's voicemail greeting into my ear, the ringing outside abruptly ceased, replaced by the hollow silence of unanswered calls. Dialing her number again, I followed the trail of sound, each step bringing me closer to the source.

There, nestled between two cars, lay Sammy's phone. Its cracked screen illuminated by the faint glow of my missed calls. But it was the sight of blood smeared across the screen that brought me to a standstill, my heart pounding in my chest as dread washed over me like a tidal wave.

Panic surged through me like a torrential wave as the cold thick blood coated my trembling hands, painting a macabre portrait of terror. I stumbled backward, my heart racing with the onslaught of dreadful possibilities. The streets loomed with ominous uncertainty, each corner hiding a potential threat.

My eyes darted frantically, searching for any sign of my friends. Sticking out like a sore thumb, my car parked on our street drew my attention. As I approached, the morning light revealed the telltale signs of violence- a small indent on the open car door, shards of glass scattered like fractured diamonds, and bright, glistening blood smeared across the windshield.

A strangled gasp escaped my dry lips as the scene unfolded before me, a surreal nightmare come to life. With trembling hands, I dropped my purse and fumbled for my phone, desperate to call for help. But as I dialed 911, the device slipped from my grasp, a cruel reminder of my mounting panic.

Scanning the scene from a distance, my gaze fell upon the broken passenger window, tendrils of blue liquid tracing a sinister path along the shattered glass. With each unanswered ring on the other end of the line, frustration and disbelief bubbled within me. How could they not pick up the phone?

A loud screech shattered the eerie silence, followed by screams that pierced through the air like a dagger. Across the street, a woman fled for her life, pursued by a figure whose intentions were all too clear. Horror gripped me tight as I watched helplessly, my gasp of disbelief drawing the attention of the assailant, his crazed eyes locking onto mine now with chilling intensity.

My legs, heavy as iron, rooted me to the spot as I watched him barrel toward me with unbridled menace. It took a moment for my mind to break free from its terrified trance, but when it did, I bolted with every ounce of strength I could muster. Racing over to the opposite end of the building, where another entrance to our apartment beckoned, I was met with a loud screech that reverberated around me. Fear gripped on like a vice, and I dared not to glance back to see if he still lurked behind me.

Before I could reach safety, a force slammed into me, sending my body crashing to the unforgiving ground. Pain radiated through my side rib as I grappled with the deranged assailant. The stench of rotting eggs assaulted my senses, mingling with the metallic tang of blood that stained his lips as he inched closer to my face. My arms, trembling like leaves in a storm, strained against his weight. His mouth gapping wide open as if he was trying to bite me.

Then as if summoned by a silent plea for salvation, the weight came off and a blooded figure materialized before me. With a hoarse cry, Becky hoisted me to my feet, urgency etched into every line of her battered face. "Move!" she urged, her voice raw with desperation, as she propelled me towards the entrance doors. I looked back and seen the same crazed man on the floor twitching like a fish. She had tazed him.

Together, we threw our weight against the unyielding metal doors, but they stood resolute, sealed shut from within. Frantic pounding reverberated through the empty space around us as we screamed for help, our pleas falling on deaf ears. My anxiety heightened when I heard a wail of piercing screams that seemed to multiply from all directions. I didn't want to look back, I couldn't.

Through the narrow slit of the thick plated door window, a familiar figure emerged, his once stoic demeanor now mask of terror. The man with the white hard hat on from yesterday, whom I had seen conversing with Erma, betrayed a flicker of fear in his eyes when he locked onto mine. He stood there frozen as if deciding what to do.

"Let us in!" Becky screamed. Frail, bloodied hands pounded furiously against the surface of the doors, each blow, a desperate plea for salvation.

Turning to face the approaching threat, the crazed man was already up looming closer, a sinister figure hurtling towards us. With each stride his shadow stretched longer, casting a pall of dread over our hope for escape. It was only a matter of seconds before his outstretched grasp would ensnare us.

"Please! Open the doors! I need to get to my brother!" I pleaded, my voice trembling with desperation as I grasped at the last shred of hope.

The man hesitated; his expression fraught with indecision as he wrestled with the weight of his choice. Relief set in as my eyes looked over to his hands moving whatever it was that had barricaded the door. The breeze from the doors opening nearly had me in tears as we rushed inside.

Our luck was soon shattered in an instant, the crazed man managed to get inside, crashing through with a primal fury that defied reason. His eyes locked at the closest person to him.

In the chaos that ensued, Becky fell victim to the relentless onslaught, her cries drowned out by the savage tumult of violence that engulfed her. The taser lay shattered at Becky's feet, its fractured remnants a stark reminder of vulnerability of the situation. Helpless, I watched the man in a frenzy clawing his way on top of her.

"Aim for the head!" the hard hat guy shouted, his voice cutting through the chaos like a clarion call to arms. With a gesture, he tossed a hammer into the fray, its weight heavy with the promise of deliverance from the encroaching nightmare.

The clang of the metal meeting the floor silenced everything around me as I put the pieces together in what he was asking me to do. Becky's scream snapped me out of my trance and with trembling hands, I reached for the weapon, its cold steel a chilling reminder of the choice that lay before me. Fear coursing through my veins like liquid fire, I knew that I stood on the precipice of a decision that would irrevocably alter my mind.

"Do it!" the hard-hatted man's voice thundered, his body a bulwark against the tide of darkness that threatened to consume us. With a heavy heart and a steady hand, I raised the hammer, its weight a burden I bore willingly.

Whirling around with the grace of a tempest's fury, I brought down the hammer with a force that shattered bone with a sickening crack. The metallic tang of fear mingled with a scent of spoiled eggs as dark rivulets splattered across my work shirt and painted my face, a macabre mask of horror. Each swing of the hammer was a desperate dance, a violent symphony of survival as I fought to protect Becky, each blow, a primal instinct clawing within me.

The man's form dissolved into a grotesque tableau of agony and death beneath the relentless attack, until his frenzied demeanor ceased, and only the silence of the aftermath remained. With hands quaking like a delicate porcelain teacup rattled by an earthquake, I helped Becky to her feet, our breaths ragged as we clung to the brief respite, knowing that the calm was but a fleeting illusion.

As the metal doors groaned open, revealing the horrors lurking beyond, Becky and I threw ourselves against the barricade, helping keep the tide of madness at bay. Getting a good look at the man who was now between me and Becky, I noticed his once white crisp shirt and belt that was adorned with tools, now marred by the unnatural goo of blue and crimson splattered all over. I couldn't tell if it was his blood or someone else's.

The crowbar, once a sturdy guardian, now twisted and bent between the doors, bore witness to the relentless assault of the horde pressing against it. Through the narrow window, I beheld a nightmarish sight, the throbbing veins snaking across their necks like serpents, their mouths agape in silent screams reminiscent of dying fish gasping for air.

Among them, a woman's gaze locked onto mine with an intensity that nearly had me back away, her nails scrapping against the metal in a primal urge to rend flesh from bone. But it was the sight of a familiar face that truly pierced through my reality. His features twisted into a grotesque mask of unrecognizable horror, a chunk of flesh torn away from his cheek, revealing the ivory glint of teeth beneath.

Jimmy's once warm mahogany eyes now burned with an icy blue fire, a reflection of the madness consumed him as he clawed his way through the throng to get to us like the others. Unable to bear the sight any longer, I turned away, my back pressed against the door with a desperation born of sheer survival, my feet slipping on the slick surface as I fought to maintain my tenuous grip on reality.

"We won't be able to hold them out much longer," the man declared, his voice carrying a weight of urgency as he cased aside his white hard hat with a dismissive gesture.

"Do you know what's happening out there?" I demanded, my back sliding down to the floor as my upper back ached in pain trying to maintain pressure against the door. My gaze locked onto the nameless man, a desperate hope flickering that he might possess some insight into the madness.

"It's the end of days. No room for heaven and hell anymore," he exhaled heavily, beads of sweat trickling down his brow, stained dark patches beneath his armpits.

The notion of the dead returning to life due to overcrowding seemed ludicrous, a concept torn from the pages of fantastical tales rather than reality. My faith couldn't believe in that. "That's what you've come up with?" I questioned.

A putrid stench invaded my senses, rank and cloying, wafting from the lifeless form sprawled amidst a pool of viscous, crimson fluid, steadily encroaching upon my feet with each beat of my heart. I recoiled, instinctively kicking away from the spreading pool, desperate to avoid its foul touch.

"You got anything better? Look at them!" the man challenged, his eyes wide with fervent conviction, his demeanor reminiscent of the wild-eyed homeless man who talked of the same thing.

"I saw Jimmy just yesterday!" I erupted, my emotions bubbling over uncontrollably. "You expect me to believe he's turned into some kind of zombie?" My voice cracked with disbelief, teetering on the edge of hysteria.

"Jimmy's one of them?" Becky interjected, her voice a soothing balm against the rising tension.

With my weight still braced against the door, I maneuvered around the man, drawn to Becky's pallid form slumped against the surface. Her skin, already drained of color, bore the unmistakable signs of distress. "You don't look so good." I said, putting my hand against her cold skin. Concern etched into every line of my face.

Her eyelids fluttered open slowly. "I... I don't feel well. My head is pounding," she murmured, her hand instinctively seeking out the source of her discomfort at the back of her head.

As I gingerly examined her, my fingers encountered a sizable knot, prompting a sharp intake of breath from Becky.

"I think she may be concussed," I murmur, withdrawing my hand from her throbbing skull with utmost care. "There's no way she can outrun them in this state if they get through."

The mans brow furrowed in contemplation as if grappling with the weight of an entire world's fate. "Okay," he finally exhaled, his words slicing through the clamor like a knife through the fog. "Take her to the elevators."

"What?" What about you?" my voice rose above the shrieks of the encroaching horde clawing at the door, growing louder with each passing moment. "You can't hold it alone."

"You can't hold it alone," he countered, his sinewy arms straining against the relentless and ravenous mob. "You two, run to the elevators. "I'll follow right behind." A silent acknowledgement of the perilous choice before him.

"Let me find something to hold the door," I urged, scrambling to my feet, still pushing against the barrier's resistance. My frantic gaze darted around the room, but there was nothing within reach to bolster our defense. "There must be something."

The doors yielded begrudgingly, a narrow gap allowing greedy, blue-veined hands to get through, their twisted appendages a grotesque testament to the monstrous transformation consuming them. Panic seized my heart as the horrors on the other side threatened to breach our sanctuary. These were not mere people; they were hollow vessels of primal instinct, devoid of humanity and driven by animalistic urges.

"Go!" The man's voice pierced the chaos like a beacon of urgency, his eyes betraying the weight of his sacrifice as he chose to save two strangers from the ghetto then his own self.

Tears blurred my vison as I beheld the selfless heroism etched upon his face, a testament to the resilience of the human spirit in the face of unfathomable darkness. "Go," he repeated softly, a gentle nudge to flee from the impending doom.

Rushing to Becky's side, I hoisted her upright, her form heavy even as she stood upon her own two feet. Her skin chilled to the touch.

With one last glance at the man who stood as a safeguard against the encroaching evil, I witnessed his valiant struggle, his weary frame straining against the relentless swarm. His gaping maw gasped for air, a silent plea for respite among the agony of his solitary stand.

Around the winding corridors, the distant glow of the elevators beckoned. Worried faces, frozen in shock, trailed our progress, their silent gaze speaking volumes of the chaos unfolding around us. "Get inside, lock your doors!" I barked at the onlookers, urgency lacing my words.

"What the hell's going on?" Erma's voice cut through the turmoil, her gaze piercing past me and Becky.

I couldn't pause, couldn't falter. My mind raced with a singular purpose- to get my brother. Struggling to support Becky, each step dragged like leaden weights. Jabbing at the button, I waited for the elevator doors to open and swallow us whole. The countdown on the darkened display taunted me, each passing second an eternity.

A man's anguished screams reverberated down the hall freezing everyone in place. My heart hammered against my ribs as I waited, dread coiling like a serpent in my gut. The cacophony of approaching shrieks drew nearer, a sign that death himself would be taking you.

The elevator doors slid open at last, and with desperate strength, I threw Becky's limp body onto the cold floor, fingers franticly punching any button within reach. A Chorus of screams and screeches drove me into a corner inside the metal trapped box with nowhere to hide. Clutching my cross with white-knuckled fervor, I prayed for deliverance, each agonizing second stretching into eternity as loud heavy footsteps got closer.

At last, blessed relief flooded over me as the doors sealed shut with a final, resounding thud on the other end of the closed doors. As the elevator began its ascent, I sagged against the wall, breaths coming in ragged gasps. The number thirteen glowed ominously above us, a grim reminder of the horrors we'd left behind.

Becky's words broke the heavy silence, drawing me from the recess of my mind. "I saw Kara die," she confessed, her voice trembling with the weight of her memories. "They swarmed us, Sammy... they chased her down." Tears welled in her eyes, threatening to spill over as she recounted the horrors she'd witnessed.

Sitting down beside her, I enveloped her cold hands in mine, offering what comfort u could muster. Images of our friends' fates intertwined with the looming specter of the man I'd been forced to kill, his face unrecognizable as all that haunted my thoughts were of his blonde hair oozed in dark blush blood.

Jimmy, Sammy, Kara- gone. Lost to the relentless tide of the undead.

"They were tearing her apart," Becky whimpered, her words punctuated by ragged sobs. Holding her close I gelt her shiver in my arms, her body a reflection of the cold terror that gripped us both. Together, we surrendered to our grief, tears mingling as we exorcised the pent-up anguish that threatened to take over.

Determined to rise from the floor, Becky shakingly tried standing on her own. But her efforts were futile; her legs trembled beneath her, refusing to obey her will as she collapsed back onto the cold tiles with a muted thud. Blinking rapidly yet, her gaze wandered aimlessly, her focus clouded by confusion. I felt a pang of concern gnawing at me, a creeping fear that her concussion was worsening by the minute.

"Take it slow, save your strength," I urged, as I thought of us fighting these zombie like people once again when the doors finally open.

A sudden stench, putrid and pervasive, assaulted my senses, triggering a primal response. Instinctively, I recoiled, recognizing the same order that lingered on our attackers, emanating from Becky. A hiss of pain came from parted lips as she peeled back her shirt, revealing a ghastly bite mark at the side of her rib with oozing blood. Blue fingered veins along the outer edges of the wound, some even crawling up closer to her neck. She was infected.

Before I could process what was going on, the elevator lurched to a halt, plunging us into darkness as the power shut off.