The shattering of broken glass resounded below on the main cafeteria—several of them—followed by a unison of mindless roars and shrieks from the infected, one that curdled my blood and bones as I stood in front of Jonas's body with half of his head torn into pieces from the shotgun shell.

A hand grabbed me from behind, and I threw a swing, expecting one of the vectors to sink its teeth into my neck, but I ended up slapping Logan on the face. He caught my second strike with his hand and gave me a deathly glare, but it disappeared within an instant when the door behind us started rattling, and the moans of the infected followed after.

"Through here!" Luke said, pointing at the small, narrow side door to our left that was easily missed when we entered last time, between two pillars with the word STAFF ONLY. NO STUDENTS ALLOWED.

I scrambled forward toward Jonas and picked up the shotgun lying beside him. I ran toward the cart, struggling to open my bag as I shoved a few cans inside as I could.

"There's no time for that! They're coming up the stairs!" Logan said. He grabbed my arm and dragged me toward the side door.

"But—!"

"Leave it! You're no use dead."

I glanced back one last time at the cart filled with food—an amount that could feed us for a week or two, and I cursed, wanting to punch the world for the turn of our luck. I had to force myself to run through the side door as Luke and Yousef shut it behind us.

"There's no lock!" Yousef said with fear brimming in his voice.

Suddenly, the vectors thundered against its frame, banging ferociously, desperate to get in. The door, fortunately, held them back for now, but I am not interested in seeing for how long. I whirled around and headed down the dimly lit corridor, walking to the front of the pack. Emergency lights lit up the way, and I was thankful we didn't have to rely on our flashlights. We came upon a fork on the corridor, one going left and the other going straight.

"Which way do we go?" Logan asked.

I had no idea. I regretted letting Miguel go. He knew the place more than I did. Then again, I hoped he and Margot and Felipe were safe. Hopefully, the sound of gunshots pushed them into hiding.

"Left. It's the direction of the hallway. Maybe we can get back out there and then head to the cathedral," I said.

"They left us. Those fuckers left us!" Yousef fumed, trembling.

I glanced at Logan at the corner of my eye and saw him frown and his brows furrowed.

"Let's not worry about that now," Luke interjected. "We'll have a good talk with them once we get the fuck out of this place."

"Yeah, damn right," Yousef echoed. "Oh, I got a lot to say..."

"Then save it for later," Luke said.

The corridor was like a maze, and I realized they served as an alternative path connecting a dozen or so classrooms in this area of the wing as if the backbone of the building. It didn't take long for us to find an emergency exit map, which we used to guide ourselves through. We found a connection to a music room that would lead us out to the same hallway outside the cafeteria, but it wasn't that simple as I imagined since the door was locked. So were many of the doors along the back corridor, and we tried most of them, careful not to rattle too loud on the doorknob else, we peaked the attention of the vectors hiding behind them. Most of them were locked.

Except one.

A single door stood at the end of the corridor with a placard on top saying JONAH CRYSTON PERFORMANCE THEATER, and at the bottom of it said BACKSTAGE ENTRANCE.

We paused in front. I extended my hand and grasped the doorknob and slowly turned it. There was no resistance. I turned to the others, looking at the door warily as I wasn't sure if the theater would be empty or not. I hoped it would be the former.

"We sure we wanna go this way?" Luke asked.

"It's the only door left," Logan said.

"We could always go back. Hit the other corridor. Maybe we'll find another way..." I trailed off.

As if on cue, the faint crash of the door hinges giving way echoed across the hall. The drums of the vectors' footsteps and their howls reverberated after it. I pictured a wave of vectors streaming out of the door we came from. I whirled around and grabbed the doorknob, turned it, and opened the door.

We were in another corridor. I quickly aimed my shotgun from left to right, convincing my mind to shoot anything that moved on sight. Darkness grasped every inch of the place. I couldn't see past three inches from the barrel of my gun. It was as dark as a moonless night inside the hall. Luke and Yousef closed the door behind me.

Luke and Yousef pushed the dresser against the door, its legs scraping against the floor in loud screeches.

"Quietly!" I said, aiming my weapon mindlessly, expecting a vector to pop out because of the noise. But no one came.

"Where are we?" Luke asked.

I didn't answer. I took a couple of steps into the darkness. It was a narrow hallway, but I began to form shapes from the black canvas as my eyes adjusted, and I saw three doors. One on the left with the GREEN ROOM sign plastered on top of the door frame, the one on the right said STORAGE & PROPS, and ahead of us said BACKSTAGE: EXERCISE SILENCE WHEN LIGHT IS RED with a big thick arrow pointed at an unlit round LED red light beside the sign.

I turned to Logan and raised my brow. Logan nodded.

I cocked my head toward the Storage & Props room since it was the closest, signaling to Yousef and Luke to stay back. They didn't argue.

We moved swiftly, and I took the left flank of the door while Logan took the other.

"On the count of three," I whispered. Logan nodded again silently.

I held my fist up to my eye level and began counting with my fingers up to three. Logan readied his rifle. I grasped the doorknob and turned it.

It didn't budge.

Locked.

I sighed in relief.

Logan turned his attention to the Green Room. I took a deep breath and marched to the same flank, and so did Logan. Doing the same thing, I counted to three and grabbed the door handle, only this time, it turned all the way, and I slowly pushed it open. Darkness waited inside.

With a single nod from me, I headed in, and Logan quickly followed my heels. I aimed my shotgun to our left; he aimed to our right. It was a small room. Three large vanity mirrors propped against the wall's far side while rows of costumes sat at the opposite side. Couches filled the rest of the space, a snack bar, and a small teacher's desk.

"Nothing much here," I said.

"Okay. Good." Luke stepped out from behind.

"Only one door left," I said. I took out the map we got earlier from my bag. "Theater leads out toward the main hall, closer to the foyer. It'll be a short walk toward the cathedral from there."

"Sounds easy," Logan said.

Yousef fervently shook his head. "Which means it'll be bad."

"It wouldn't hurt to be a little bit optimistic, man," said Luke.

"Easy is difficult. Hard is easy. Seriously, have any of you seen a horror movie?"

"This is real life, Sef."

"Have you seen what's outside? Dead is dead, and they don't walk, but they do now. And they're eating our faces, out of children, guts and all!"

"Would you relax—"

Luke tried to put his hands on Yousef again, but the boy brushed it off. "But I can't. We try, but I'm done with that shit. Why...Why would he do that? Shoot himself?"

"You know why."

"Why is this happening?" Yousef mumbled as if he didn't hear Luke.

"We don't really have an answer to that, Yousef. I don't think we can afford to think about it with them right at our heels. Frankly, I don't want to think about it," I said.

"Well, too fucking bad, because I do. We've been stuck here in this city for three days, hiding. We pretend everything outside will blow over. We paint SOS signs, banners, hoping the military will rescue us, but they haven't come. We watch as helicopters flew past us all the time, but they never save us. Does that look over to you? Sorry to be the devil's advocate here but to me, it seems like it's getting worse and worse. Is this everywhere? Is it all over the world by now?"

I couldn't answer him. None of us could. All I could do was lower my head and wallow his words, and a part of me swelled with anger and frustration. Some of his words stung, and it spread like poison within me. I wanted to believe—to have faith—but reality often had a way of bringing things grounded.

Yousef sighed and continued, "Now we're stuck here with the infected behind us and potentially a hundred more ahead of us. We're fucked. We should've stayed in the cathedral."

"And starve to death? We need food," Logan chimed in. "And this will all be over soon."

"Are you sure about that?"

"I am. And it will. It has to be."

Yousef paused, thinking. "I hope you are right. If not, I don't want to walk out of this room again."

"You're paranoid."

"Then call me paranoid. I don't want to die tonight."

Logan scoffed. "No shit, Sherlock. A kid just blew his brains out. You're not the only one who doesn't want to end up like him. So, quit your bitching so we can get the fuck out of here."

Logan strode toward the door with the rifle slung around his shoulder. He opened the door, turned around, and said, "Let's get back to the cathedral so I can break up with my girlfriend."

Yousef stared at him, eyes blinking rapidly. "Seriously? That is your priority?"

Logan shrugged. "Hell, it beats pondering about our impending death, and I hate feeling depressed. It sucks,"—he turned to face me—"And I'm sure you can relate to that."

I threw my hands up and shot him a look that said, what the hell are you talking about?

Logan rolled his eyes and walked out the door. We had no choice but to follow. Before Yousef could reach the door, I gently grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks.

"Hey, I know you're scared. I do, too," I said.

"You have a funny way of showing about it."

"What?"

"You shoot them like they're nothing. They used to be people. Or—I don't know, I think maybe they still are."

I paused, not knowing what to say.

Yousef added, "I can't shoot them that easily."

"It's easier to think of them as something else. It makes things less complicated. My father taught me that its easier to relegate our enemies to a basic distinction of black and white, between good and bad, light versus dark, and so on."

"And does it work?"

"As you said, we pretend, only with our eyes open."