Dad and Mom made it to the tool shed.
Through the monitor feed, I watched them throw their weight against the door, holding it shut. A few of the Infected were slamming against the iron from the outside, but the door was solid enough to hold for now. Mom had collapsed onto the floor, knees drawn to her chest, crying. Dad moved through the cramped space searching for anything useful and came up with a pair of garden shears and an iron rod.
They had dropped their phones while running. They were completely cut off.
I boiled myself a bowl of noodles in the bunker and cracked two eggs into the broth. It wasn't until the warmth hit my stomach that I realized I hadn't eaten anything all day.
The world outside was coming apart. In here, it was warm and safe, and there was more food than I coul
