As the first light of dawn began to creep through the gaps in his barricades, Ivan's exhaustion weighed heavily on him. The long night had been filled with anxiety and fear, leaving him barely able to keep his eyes open. He hadn’t managed much sleep, but he remained vigilant, keeping a close watch on both the bathroom door and the front entrance.

Unable to bear the confined space any longer, Ivan decided to step out onto the balcony. The cool morning air was a welcome relief from the oppressive atmosphere inside. He needed to clear his mind and gather his strength before the new day fully began.

With a heavy sigh, he stepped out, leaning against the balcony railing as he took in the view. The sun was just beginning to rise, casting a soft, golden light over the city. It was a surreal contrast to the chaos that had unfolded over the past few hours.

Ivan’s gaze shifted to the building across the street. It was slightly smaller than his own, but the view from his vantage point was clear. His heart sank as he noticed the people on the rooftop of the neighboring building. They were huddled together, their faces etched with fear and despair. Some were pacing nervously, while others sat or stood, staring blankly at the horizon.

The sight was heartbreaking. The people on the rooftop appeared trapped and hopeless, their situation a stark reminder of the dire circumstances unfolding around them. Ivan could see their fear in their eyes, even from a distance. Their desperate situation mirrored his own, a grim testament to the widespread chaos that had overtaken the city.

He wished he could do something to help them, but the reality of his situation was sobering. He was barely managing to keep himself safe, let alone assist others. The realization made him feel even more isolated and helpless. The harsh thought struck him: You wished? You can’t even save yourself. What can you possibly do? The thought was unrelenting, echoing in his mind and magnifying his feelings of inadequacy.

The stark contrast between his own dire situation and the plight of those across the street was a bitter reminder of his limitations. He was trapped in his own survival struggle, and the overwhelming sense of powerlessness gnawed at him. The weight of the realization was heavy, a reminder that in a world gone mad, even the best intentions might be futile.

Suddenly, a loud noise pierced the quiet morning—a helicopter. Ivan’s eyes widened as he looked up to see a military helicopter flying towards their area. His heart leapt with a mix of hope and desperation. The sight of the helicopter was both promising and terrifying. He wasn’t alone in his excitement; the people on the neighboring rooftop were reacting with a mixture of screams and tears.

“Hey!! I’m here too! Damn it, don’t leave me here!!” Ivan shouted, his voice lost in the cacophony of the others.

The rooftop was alive with frantic gestures and cries for help. The people waved their arms wildly, their voices rising in unison as they tried to attract the helicopter’s attention.

Despite their efforts, the helicopter didn’t descend or even slow down. It continued on its path, seemingly indifferent to the cries and commotion below. The hope that had flared in Ivan’s chest quickly extinguished as the helicopter flew out of sight.

Ivan’s heart sank as he watched it disappear into the distance. The moment of hope had been fleeting, replaced by a crushing sense of despair. He slumped against the balcony railing, his breath coming in heavy, disappointed sighs.

Back on the rooftop of the neighboring building, the mood had shifted dramatically. The people who had been watching with a mix of hope and fear were now faced with a new threat. The door they had barricaded with crates and makeshift ropes from clothing was being pounded relentlessly. A couple of hands had managed to reach through the gaps, trying to pry the door open.

The situation quickly escalated. Three men on the rooftop grabbed makeshift weapons—one wielding a metal bar salvaged from a pipe, and two others brandishing wooden planks. They positioned themselves near the door, preparing to defend against whatever was trying to break through.

Meanwhile, four women stood back, their faces pale with fear. A couple of them were shouting and crying out, their voices adding to the chaotic atmosphere. Their screams only seemed to heighten the panic, making the situation even more volatile.

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The men tried to steady themselves, their faces set with grim determination as they prepared to face the impending threat. The girls’ screams continued to pierce through the air, a constant reminder of the fear and desperation that had taken hold of the group.

Ivan watched from his balcony, his own sense of helplessness magnified by the dire scene unfolding across the street. The people on the rooftop were fighting their own battle, and he could only hope that they would find a way to hold on until help arrived. But for now, his own survival remained his primary focus. The world outside was a harsh and unforgiving place, and he needed to stay alert and prepared for whatever came next.

Suddenly, a series of loud bangs jolted him from his thoughts. Ivan's heart raced as he recognized the unmistakable sound of pounding on both his front door and the bathroom door. His breath caught in his throat as he realized the gravity of the situation.

"Shit, they were attracted to the noise," he muttered, the cold realization sinking in. The commotion from the helicopter and the cries from the rooftop had drawn the infected right to his apartment. The mistake he and the people on the rooftop had made was now evident.

Ivan’s panic surged. He had inadvertently played a part in attracting the infected to his safe haven. The noise from the rooftop had not only jeopardized the people there but had also led the infected straight to his doorstep.

He sprang into action, his mind racing as he assessed the immediate threat. The bathroom door, previously a secure barricade, was now shaking violently. Ms. Henderson’s growls and the relentless pounding were a chilling reminder of the danger just behind it.

At the same time, the front door was also under siege. The infected’s attempts to breach his defenses were growing more aggressive with each passing second. Ivan could hear the furniture and makeshift barriers creaking under the pressure.

Desperate to reinforce his barricades, Ivan grabbed whatever heavy objects he could find—furniture, crates, and even wooden planks. He worked feverishly, adding more layers to the barricades, hoping to hold the infected back for as long as possible.

The noise was deafening, a constant reminder of the threat closing in on him. He focused on securing the bathroom door first, stacking more furniture against it and wedging a wooden plank between the door and the wall. The infected’s growls were a relentless, terrifying soundtrack to his frantic efforts.

With the bathroom door somewhat reinforced, Ivan turned his attention to the front entrance. The barricades there were holding, but the infected were relentless. He added more weight to the furniture and adjusted the makeshift barriers, trying to create an even stronger defense.

His thoughts were a whirlwind of fear and urgency. He knew that his chances of survival were dwindling with each passing minute. The realization that he might not be able to hold out much longer was a crushing blow.

Ivan took a deep breath, trying to steady himself amidst the chaos. He checked his supplies, ensuring he had everything he needed to defend himself. His mind raced with strategies and contingencies, thinking about potential escape routes and ways to fortify his position.

After a while, the banging and growls gradually subsided, leaving Ivan in a state of exhausted relief. The relentless pounding on the doors had finally calmed down, and the eerie silence that followed was both a blessing and a curse.

Ivan slumped against the wall, his body aching from the frantic efforts to fortify his defenses. The lack of sleep from the previous night, combined with the stress and physical exertion, had taken a severe toll on him. He was utterly drained, every muscle in his body protesting from the strain. The adrenaline that had fueled him was now fading, leaving behind an overwhelming fatigue.

He glanced around the disheveled apartment, the remnants of his hasty barricades scattered about. The furniture he had desperately used to block the doors was now in disarray, and his once orderly home was a chaotic mess.

With a deep sigh, Ivan closed his eyes for a moment, trying to gather his strength. The exhaustion was nearly debilitating, but he knew he couldn’t afford to rest for long. He needed to stay alert, even as his body cried out for sleep.

The silence was heavy, punctuated only by the occasional creak of the building settling. Ivan’s thoughts raced as he tried to make sense of the situation and plan his next moves. He had managed to hold off the infected for now, but he knew that he needed to be ready for whatever came next.

When Ivan finally calmed down, he looked at the balcony again to check on the people from the rooftop. His heart sank as he saw the door was now open. Dozens of infected had poured onto the rooftop and were now feasting on the survivors.

The horrific sight was too much for him. Ivan’s stomach churned violently, and he vomited over the balcony, the bile mixing with his tears of despair. The scene was a brutal reminder of the grim reality he was trapped in.

After some time, the infected began to rise from their gruesome feast and started wandering aimlessly. Ivan’s gaze fell upon one particularly disturbing sight: the man who had been holding the steel pipeline earlier now moved with grotesque determination, his intestines hanging out and dragging behind him as he walked. The man showed no sign of discomfort or distress, his eyes vacant and unseeing.

The sight was both horrifying and surreal. Ivan watched in stunned silence, grappling with the stark reality of his situation. The world outside was falling apart, and the chaos was relentless. He had managed to hold on for now, but the grim fate of those on the rooftop was a stark reminder of the constant danger and the harshness of this new world.