T I L D E N
We were already on the seventh floor, and still we hadn't encountered a single zombie. The place was chaotic—papers scattered, furniture overturned—and the silence was so heavy it felt alive. Darkness pressed against us from every corner, and our individual flashlights were the only things keeping it at bay.
The distress signal had gone silent hours ago, so climbing all the way up was a gamble. We had no guarantee that anyone was still alive.
On the tenth floor, the staircase door was shut tight, and the knob was smeared with dried blood. I glanced back at my team. They nodded, weapons raised, nerves steady.
I pushed the door open with the muzzle of my gun—and came face-to-face with a wandering zombie. I fired before it had the chance to make a sound. The suppressor muffled
