The world had shrunk to the pounding of her own heart and the ragged gasps she tried to stifle. Eunhye's mind was racing, a frantic loop of 'the boys are out there, the net, the zombies, we have to do something-'

"Sae Joon Hyun-umph-"

A hand, warm and suddenly firm, clamped over her mouth, cutting off her whispered panic. She jerked her head to the side, her wide eyes meeting Yohan's. His face was pale, his own eyes wide with a fear that mirrored hers, but his gaze was insistent. He gave a sharp, almost imperceptible shake of his head, his lips forming a silent 'shhh'. His message was clear: Don't give us away.

She forced herself to nod, her breathing slowing to a shaky rhythm against his palm. He slowly lowered his hand, his fingers brushing her cheek. Together, like ghosts, all of them edged toward the grimy jeep window and peered out into the chaos. If they were to move now, it would only add fuel to the fire.

The scene was surreal, something out of a bizarre nightmare. A massive, coarse net, the kind used for industrial cargo, had been thrown over the main hospital gates. Anchoring it to the ground were heavy, rusted boulders. Inside this macabre cage, the zombies thrashed and groaned, their decaying hands clawing at the ropes, their collective moaning a horrifying symphony. And trapped in front of it were the boys-Sae Joon Hyun, Jaeyeon, Yon, Jay, and Ji-Hoon- their weapons useless against the sheer number of bodies.

"We are doomed," Sae Joon Hyun's voice was a low, defeated mutter, barely audible. It was the most hopeless thing any of them had ever heard him say.

Jay stared, his face ashen. "What... what is this...?" he whispered, his voice trembling with a mixture of terror and utter confusion.

Inside the jeep, Eunhye let out a deep, shuddering sigh and slumped back onto her seat, the fight draining out of her. What could they even do?

Next to her, Yuri caught her eye. Instead of fear, a strange, amused little snicker escaped her. Her eyes crinkled into crescents. "Do you like Sae Joon Hyun?" she teased, her voice a weirdly casual melody in the midst of the horror. It was a possible attempt at calming her, but oh lord was that a fail.

Eunhye didn't even grace her with a verbal response. Her gaze, flat and unamused, slid from In-Ha's face to the gun lying in the corner of the jeep. Slowly, deliberately, she picked it up. She checked the magazine, slammed it back in with a sharp click, and pulled the slide, chambering a round. All while holding Yuri's startled gaze. A small, cold, enigmatic smile played on her lips. The message was received. Yuri shrugged, the teasing dying on her lips.

The group moved as one, slipping out of the jeep with practiced silence. They crept in front of the building, staying low, their hearts in their throats. A slight creak of a door hinge made them freeze.

Then, three figures emerged from a side entrance. Two women in clean white nurse's uniforms, and a man in a long white coat, a stethoscope dangling from his neck. They looked exhausted, but their eyes were alert and alive.

"Are you all alright?" one of the nurses asked, her voice a hushed, polite whisper.

The group could only nod, a collective wave of relief so potent it made them dizzy.

Jaeyeon found his voice first, pointing a trembling finger toward the netted gates. "Did you guys throw that net?"

The doctor simply raised a finger to his lips and gestured for them to follow. They tiptoed behind the three figures, around the back of the building, to a heavy metal door. Parked in front of it was an industrial aerial lift, a large, rusty metal box attached to two thick, heavy-duty cables that stretched up the side of the building, disappearing high above.

"Get in," the doctor instructed, his voice leaving no room for argument.

They went up seven at a time, the lift groaning and shuddering with each ascent. After three tense trips, they were all gathered on the fifth floor. The sight that greeted them was breathtaking. The hospital lobby was packed with people-dozens of them. Survivors huddled in groups, some sleeping on cots, others sharing meager rations. It was a fragile pocket of civilization in the midst of the apocalypse.

"We are currently taking shelter in this hospital," the doctor explained, his voice steady but weary. "We've managed to save each other and make it here. It's not much, but it's defensible. The lifts are blocked by us and so are the staircases. The zombies are only on the first floor. But, it's better to be as quiet as possible."

Eunhye's legs finally gave out. She slipped down onto the cool white tiles, the adrenaline crash leaving her boneless.

Yohan stepped forward. "We have a patient," he said, pointing to In-Ha. "Please. She needs help."

The doctor nodded instantly, his professionalism kicking in. He snapped his fingers, and a stretcher was brought over. They helped In-Ha onto it and wheeled her swiftly down a hall, locking a ward door behind them. The group was left standing in the buzzing silence of the crowded lobby, the anxiety a living thing amongst them.

"She'll be fine," Yohan said softly to Hailey, who was wringing the fabric of her dirty sweatshirt into a tight knot.

She nodded, but her knuckles were white.

A woman from the crowd approached them. She was bedraggled, her frizzy, dull blonde hair escaping a messy bun, her feet bare on the cold floor. She wore a faded apron over a simple blue frock. "We have many staff uniforms here," she said, her voice kind. "You all should change. You'll feel... more human."

They looked down at themselves. Their clothes were stiff with dried blood, dirt, and sweat. Eunhye stared at her dress, trying to remember how long she'd been wearing it. To her. A lifetime.

"You can change there," the woman said, gesturing with a delicate arm towards a door marked 'Locker Rooms'.

They bowed their thanks, the gesture feeling strangely formal. Inside the locker room, the air was still and clean. And then they heard it. The gentle hiss of steam. The sound of gushing water from the showers. Each of them took a stall.

Eunhye stood frozen, listening. "How long has it been since I entered a shower room..." she murmured to herself, the sound of real, running water feeling like a miracle. Back in the convenience store, there was a single bathroom at the back of the store. Considering the amount of people there were, they couldn't afford to think of luxuries like bathing. Getting a bowl and a sink, with a working water pipe was heaven enough.

Hailey stood before the mirror, her reflection a stranger. She was dressed in soft, clean blue scrubs. Methodically, she gathered her long, black wavy hair-once her pride, now a matted mess-and twisted it into a tight, severe bun at the nape of her neck. Not a single strand was out of place.

She reached out, her hand trembling slightly, and turned the faucet. Clear, cool water rushed out. She dipped her hands in, gasping at the sensation, then cupped it and brought it to her face. She splashed it over and over, washing away the grime, the sweat, the tear-tracks. She patted her face dry with a soft, white towel, and then she looked.

Clean skin. Pink, full lips. A straight nose. Slender neck. This was her face. Her body.

"This is what I am..." she whispered to the ghost in the glass.

Her eyes drifted down to the pile on the floor. The bloody, torn school uniform she had kicked off. It lay in a heap, a sad, stained relic of a dead world.

"And this is who they made me..." The uniform was a symbol of everything she'd been forced to become-frightened, fierce, a cowardly fighter smeared in the evidence of her survival.

The night in the hospital was a paradox. It was the safest they'd been in days, weeks for some, yet sleep was a fractured, nervous thing, punctuated by the moans from outside and the soft cries of the injured within.

Then, as the first gray light of dawn bled through the high windows, a new sound sliced through the uneasy silence. It was sharp, insistent, and utterly, heart-stoppingly human.

A baby's cry.

Yohan was on his feet before he was even fully awake, his heart hammering against his ribs. He followed the sound, finding a nurse leaning against a wall outside a ward, her eyes closed in exhaustion.

"Is it the baby?" he asked, his voice breathless.

The nurse opened her eyes and offered a small, weary smile. "I would say congratulations, but I guess you already 'heard' the surprise."

"How are they?" Yohan's voice was tight with worry.

"They are fine. Tired. Sorry if you found the crying a bit disturbing. We are trying our best to calm her down."

"I don't mind," Yohan said, and a real, genuine smile broke through his anxiety. "It's rare to experience this when we are on the brink of destruction."

With a nod from the nurse, he unbarred the door and slipped inside.

In-Ha was propped up on pillows, looking exhausted but radiant. In her arms, swaddled in a clean white blanket, was a tiny, wriggling infant. The baby's cries had subsided into soft, hiccupping little sounds.

"How is she?" Yohan asked, his voice dropping to a reverent whisper.

In-Ha didn't look up, her entire world focused on the tiny face. "Cute," she replied, her voice full of awe.

"I know," Yohan smiled. "We have to keep her safe."

"Of course. Isn't it?" In-Ha's voice was soft but held a new, steely core.

"How could I not keep this child safe..." It was a vow.

"Then there is no doubt to it, is there," Yohan affirmed.

"But-" In-Ha started, her face clouding with the immense weight of it all.

Yohan cut her off gently but firmly. "We are leaving for Andong. Today."

"Huh?" In-Ha's eyes finally flicked up to his, wide with surprise.

"Yesterday night. Before we all went to sleep, Joon Hyeong came up with the idea. We must get rescued as quickly as we can to keep this child safe," he explained, his tone leaving no room for argument. "It's the only way."

In-Ha looked down at her daughter, at the perfect little face. She nodded slowly, a fierce determination settling in her eyes. "You are right."

"Fight for her, In-Ha ma'am," Yohan urged.

"Definitely. I will. I have to. I want to," she replied, each word a promise.

Two hours later, the group stood together on the corridor, ready to go. They looked like different people in their clean scrubs, but their eyes were the same-tired and determined.

"Thank you for your hospitality. We will be leaving now," Eunhye said, bowing to the doctor, the people, and nurses.

One of the nurses stepped forward, her brow furrowed with concern. "But I would prefer you'd rather stay. It's dangerous out there."

Eunhye shook her head. "We have somewhere to be."

The nurse hesitated. "I see. Just for the sake of being sure-where are you all heading to?"

"Andong," Eunhye replied.

A murmur went through the crowd of survivors. Then, a man stood up. He was young, his face etched with exhaustion and a desperate hope. He walked straight up to Eunhye and, to everyone's shock, dropped to his knees, tears welling in his eyes.

"M-may I join you guys as well?" he pleaded, his voice cracking.

Jaeyeon was there in an instant, gently but firmly pulling the man to his feet. "Hey, come on, stand up."

Sae Joon Hyun stepped forward, his arms crossed, his expression guarded and skeptical. "Why?" he asked, his tone blunt.

The man took a shaky breath. "My name is Minwoo Na," he began, wiping his eyes. "Andong... that's where my grandmother lives. I need to know if she's okay. I have to get to her. Can I please come with you guys?"

Sae Joon Hyun frowned. "Hm. I don't know. We are a lot of people already." It was a practical refusal, cold but logical.

"You can come."

The words came from Yohan. He stood his ground as Sae Joon Hyun's sharp, disapproving glare landed on him. The look could curdle milk, but Yohan held it.

"I mean," Yohan continued, his voice softer but no less firm, "I'd go for my grandmother as well, so..."

Eunhye watched the silent battle of wills between the two. She placed a calming hand on Sae Joon Hyun's arm. "It's okay," she said, her voice quiet but final. "He can come with us."

Sae Joon Hyun's jaw tightened, but he finally gave a short, reluctant nod. "Alright. But he pulls his weight. No exceptions."

Minwoo's face transformed with a gratitude so profound it was painful to look at. "Thank you. I promise. I won't be a burden. I'll do anything."