“Inside?” Elle repeated as a chill down her spine. “How? What happened?” She asked, getting out of bed and pulling on a sweatshirt. There hasn’t been a cold body inside the wall since it was fully fortified over 100 years ago. “Was there a breach?” She followed her father down the stairs as he made his way towards their personal weapon vault.

“I don’t know,” Her dad replied as he unlocked the door to their vault. “You know what to grab and what the plan is, yeah?”

“I do,” Elle replied. “Disregard worries of noise pollution. Escort the elderly, the pregnant, the disabled, the injured, and the young to the shelters. Grab at least one mini grenade for a last resort.” She recited, stuffing one of those said explosives in her pocket. Infiltration was the first thing they trained for.

Her father pulled out his favorite: a rifle. He was always good at long distance shooting. Elle pressed her lips together and pulled out one of their short-barrelled shotguns and pulled on a heavier jacket, stuffing a few extra shotgun shells into the pocket. Pulling out a small pocket knife, she stuffed it into her other pocket.

Gunshots could be heard in the distance and a wave of fear passed through Elle once more. Her father paused, placing his hands on her shoulders to cease her trembling. “Elle, you can do this. You’ve worked hard, you ranked high, and you’ve been training for something like this since the day you were born.” He said, grabbing her right hand and extending her arm. Grabbing an old magazine and ripping off a few sheets of paper, he wrapped it around the right forearm of her jacket with duct tape. “Remember what I taught you, okay?”

Elle nodded, her throat feeling dry when she heard a bloodcurdling scream outside. She had never heard such a scream before. She's heard squeals of excitement, moans of pain, cries for help. This was a real scream, full of terror and fear. It was something that she has never been exposed to before, because what could anyone possibly be screaming about in a sanctuary city?

“Don’t be stupid, okay?” He continued, “Find Alegra or Silas. Keep track of each other. There’s too much to do so you may be unable to find them at times and you’ll probably get separated, but always keep an eye out for them. Help them when they need it.” He finished, grabbing a sheathed machete off the wall and handing it to Elle. “We’ll separate too, but meet me here after everything’s over. Got it?” Elle slung the strap of the machete sheath on her shoulder and nodded. “I love you, sweetie. Just help in any way you can. I’ll see you in a few hours, okay?”

“I love you too, dad.” Elle responded, trying and failing to control her trembling voice. He nodded at her and once she nodded back, he opened the door.

Chaos. That was the only way Elle could describe it. People were shoving past each other to get to the shelter, even people that were fully trained and should be clearing the town. The cold bodies were running with all their might to attack. A man and woman were running hand in hand just as the woman was tackled to the ground. She clung to the man’s hand, desperately screaming for his help. The man's face contorted into one of disgust as he mercilessly kicked the woman's face. She let go, screaming as teeth dug into her shoulder. The man ran off and didn’t look back.

A shiver ran down her spine once more and brought Elle’s focus back. Her father had already disappeared. Elle could nearly hear her heart pounding she ran down the street. Silas was closer than Alegra. She ran towards his house, calling out his name. She found him with a pistol in hand. Though Silas was exceptional with all kinds of firearms, his favorite was always a simple handgun. “Silas!” She called out. Just as he turned to her direction, one of the undead turned the corner and tackled him to the ground. He let out a grunt as the wind was knocked out of him, fear evident in his eyes.

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The freak let out a growl, leaning down and getting closer to Silas’ exposed neck. Elle ran, kicking it off of Silas and pulling her machete out of its sheath as it wriggled on the floor. She plunged it into the freak’s head, gagging at the crunching sound of the blade cutting through its skull. Tugging it out, she swallowed, trying to keep the bloodied machete as far from her face as she physically could.

She looked at the creature on the floor. It smelled rancid. Its skin was gray, and the blood spilling out of its head was more black and clotted than red and thick. She turned back to Silas, offering her hand to help him up. He took it gratefully, his palms clammy and his hands shaking as he brought himself back up to his feet. “Thanks.”

“We need to find Alegra.” Elle panted, releasing his hand and turning towards Alegra’s house. The two of them ran together, watching the crowd for any zombies. Silas put his hand to the side, halting Elle and put a finger to his lips. "Is that... someone crying?"

“There.” Silas pointed, where a few meters away there sat a young boy, maybe four years old, crying as he watched his mother getting eaten by one of the undead. Before Elle even had a chance to react Silas was already running ahead, picking up the kid in a fast sweep. He pulled out his gun, shooting the zombie as it growled at him.

"Please don't leave me," the mother cried. "Don't take my boy. Peter, please don't go," she pleaded, reaching out for her son. The boy screamed at Silas' side, reaching down for his mother's bloody hand.

After a moment of hesitation Silas pointed, looked away, and shot the head of the mother. He walked back to Elle, who stood with hands clenched. "You didn't have to-"

"She was bleeding out and she was bitten. She was going to die."

"She was asking for her son-"

"She wasn't thinking straight!" Silas yelled, his voice even louder than the crying toddler on his hip. Elle closed her mouth and averted her eyes, to which Silas signed and began running off. “I’m taking this kid to safety,” he muttered. "Find Alegra."

Elle blinked back tears as she watched him run out of her sight, but abode his orders. Tucking her machete back into its sheath, she turned and ran towards Alegra’s house. Turning the corner, she let out a groan as she ran into someone. She scrambled backwards slightly and fixed her footing.

“You were in the Top 10.” The elderly woman she had ran into said out loud, a twinkle of hope glistening in her gray eyes. Her legs were shaking, likely not just from fear but from age as well. “Please, I need help. My grandson is injured and no one will help us.” She explained, desperation clear in her voice.

Elle looked over her shoulder. Alegra’s house was only one block away. She grit her teeth and shook her head. Alegra would have to wait. “Bring me to him.” She ordered, to which the woman smiled and tearfully thanked her. She led her two houses away and into the backyard, where a boy lay on the grass. He panted heavily, clutching his bloodied left thigh.

“Gage,” Elle said aloud, recognizing the boy. He was one of the members of their graduating class. Not one of the Top 10, but still a formidable opponent to the freaks. He should still be up and about.

He chuckled darkly. “You found a good one, Grandma.” He said to the elderly woman, wincing as Elle’s hand pressed lightly on his wound.

“How did you get this?” Elle asked cautiously. She wasn't about to take an infected person to the shelter.

“People stampeded. Someone thought that it might just be a good idea to open fire on the crowd, even though there were people in there.” He drew a sharp breath as Elle used her pocket knife to cut around the bloodied section of his pants. Indeed, there was a bullet lodged in his thigh. “Obviously that person wasn’t very bright.”

“Can you stand?” Elle asked.

“It hurts like hell, but with a little help...” Gage trailed off, placing his hand on the ground and pushing himself up to his feet. Elle placed his left arm around her shoulders, supporting him as he stood up.

“We’re going to the shelter.” Elle informed the two of them. The woman nodded and turned to lead the way. They were making discernible progress, slowly but surely. “We can do this.” Elle said to no one in particular.

“Attention, citizens of Bellum.” The speaker sounded above them, though it was difficult to hear over the sound of the sirens. “The shelters are now reaching full capacity. They will be closed to ensure the safety of those inside in five minutes. Thank you.”