Chapter 3: Nowhere Is Safe

  Sam stood in his darkened apartment, gripping the baseball bat like a lifeline. His breath came in short, uneven bursts. Outside, the city screamed. The distant wail of sirens, the panicked shouts of survivors, the guttural groans of the infected—it all blended into a nightmarish symphony of chaos.

  His phone was still clutched in his other hand. He stared at the screen. No signal.

  He cursed under his breath. His sister, Riley, was out there somewhere. Alive or dead—he had no idea.

  A loud thud against his door snapped him back to the present.

  Sam held his breath. The noise came again, heavier this time, like something smming its full weight against the wood.

  Then the growling started.

  Low, guttural. Wrong.

  He tightened his grip on the bat. His apartment was on the fourth floor—had one of those things followed him up?

  Another sm. The door rattled.

  Sam took a step back. The bat felt small in his hands. If that door broke open, he wasn’t sure he could fight whatever was on the other side.

  Then—just as suddenly as it had started—the pounding stopped.

  Silence.

  Sam’s heart pounded in his ears.

  Then came the shuffling. Slow, dragging footsteps moving away from the door.

  He let out a shaky breath, his muscles still tense. He needed to think.

  Supplies. Escape. Riley.

  One thing was clear—he couldn’t stay here. If the infected were inside the building, it was only a matter of time before the whole pce was overrun.

  He moved quickly.

  His backpack sat in the closet. He threw it onto the bed, stuffing it with whatever he could find. A few protein bars. Bottles of water. A fshlight. His old pocketknife.

  He checked the kitchen—nothing but empty cupboards and expired cereal. The fridge had half a carton of milk and a few takeout containers. Useless.

  He needed real supplies.

  A sudden scream outside made him freeze.

  He rushed to the window.

  Down below, the street was a war zone. Fires burned in overturned cars. A man sprinted across the pavement, but he didn’t get far—two infected tackled him, their teeth sinking into his flesh as he thrashed and screamed.

  Sam looked away, swallowing hard. He had to get out of here.

  The Fire Escape

  His apartment had a fire escape. If he could get to the roof, maybe he could find a way out.

  Carefully, he slid the window open. The cool night air rushed in, carrying the scent of smoke and blood. He climbed out onto the metal ptform, gripping the railing tightly.

  A voice stopped him.

  “Hey! Up here!”

  Sam’s head snapped up.

  A man stood on the rooftop of the adjacent building, waving frantically. He was in his mid-forties, wearing a torn jacket and holding a crowbar. His face was lined with exhaustion, but his eyes were sharp.

  “You alone?” the man called down.

  Sam hesitated. “Yeah.”

  “Then hurry up. The streets are crawling. You don’t want to be down there when more of them show up.”

  Sam looked over his shoulder. More infected were spilling into the street, drawn by the sounds of screaming and gunfire.

  He nodded. “I’m coming up.”

  The fire escape rattled as he climbed. When he reached the roof, the man offered a hand, pulling him up the st few feet.

  “I’m Trey,” the man said. “You got a pn, kid?”

  “Find my sister,” Sam said immediately. “She texted me before everything went to hell. I need to know if she’s okay.”

  Trey sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Family, huh? Yeah, I get it.” He pointed toward the distance. “The city’s a death trap. You got a car?”

  Sam shook his head.

  “Then you’re gonna need a team.” Trey looked him up and down. “You know how to fight?”

  Sam tightened his grip on the bat. “I can handle myself.”

  Trey smirked. “We’ll see.”

  A loud explosion rumbled in the distance. More smoke rose into the sky.

  Sam took on

  e st look at the burning city below.

  There was no going back.

  Now, it was survive—or die.