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They hadn’t expected it to come to this.
Mark and Gary barricaded themselves in the studio, the soundproof walls now useless against the chaos outside. Robbie, Jason, and Howard had already turned—zombies, relentless, mindless.
The world was a nightmare, and they were running out of time.
"We have to go, Gaz," Mark whispered, his voice trembling. He gripped the door handle, his knuckles white. "It’s now or never."
Gary nodded, heart pounding in his chest. "Right, on three."
They burst out, adrenaline surging as they sprinted into the open. The stench of decay hit them like a wall, but they kept running, desperation fuelling every step.
For a moment, hope flickered—they might actually make it. But then Gary felt it.
Cold, rotting hands latched onto him, yanking him backward with brutal force. His breath caught as he saw the twisted, decayed faces of Robbie, Jason, and Howard bearing down on him, their lifeless eyes fixed with a hunger that chilled him to the bone.
"Gary!" Mark’s voice cracked in terror as he turned, wide-eyed.
"No!" Gary roared, the fear in his voice barely masking the pain as he struggled against their grip. Their nails dug into his flesh, tearing at him. "Run, Mark! Run!"
Mark froze, his heart pounding in his ears, but Gary’s scream was a guttural command.
“Go! Now!”
Gary was overwhelmed, the weight of their bodies pulling him down as teeth sank into his shoulder. He didn’t have the strength to fight them off anymore. Blood oozed from the wounds, pooling around him as he was dragged to the ground.
Mark’s vision blurred with tears as he turned and bolted, Gary’s anguished cries echoing in his ears, mingling with the wet, tearing sounds of the feeding frenzy. He didn’t look back.