Knowing he was trespassing on private property, Rio continued to sneak around the big beverage factory. His heart pounded in his chest as he turned past a workplace recreational space, the basketball court, and headed towards the parking lot where the employees' vehicles were parked.

"I've never been here before," he murmured to himself, awe mingling with fear. "I didn't know this place was so spacious."

The factory grounds felt deceptively safe. There were no signs of infected people, and the usual screams of chaos were absent. Instead, distant honking from the highway and the murmur of evacuees on foot were the only sounds breaking the silence. The security personnel had locked the gates before the infection spiraled out of control—a wise decision that had created this temporary sanctuary.

Rio moved east, cutting across the parking lot towards the industrial building. A truck loaded with soda bottles caught his eye, its contents promising relief for his parched throat.

"Maybe it's okay to take something. The world has gone to hell anyway," he thought, trying to justify the theft as he approached the truck.

He approached the truck, his steps light and deliberate. He swung his backpack to the front and unzipped it, preparing to loot.

As he rummaged through the packages, a voice startled him. He spun around to find a shotgun aimed at his chest.

"Shit." Rio's hands shot up instinctively.

"Drop the knife, step away from the truck, and face me," the voice commanded, cold and steady.

"Please, don't shoot," Rio stammered, his voice trembling. "I'm not infected, and I don't want to hurt anyone. The knife is just for self-defense. I'm just thirsty." He followed the orders, dropping his knife and stepping back, his eyes never leaving the barrel of the gun.

"You don't look like a worker," the man observed, lowering the shotgun slightly. He was a security guard, his face stern but curious. "How did you get in here, kid? We locked the gate securely."

"I came from the village nearby," Rio explained, his voice steadying. "I was with a group evacuating when the infected chased us. I managed to escape and climbed over the fence to get here."

"You're alone?" The guard's grip on the gun tightened again. "Are they still chasing you?"

"Yes, I'm alone. And no, no infected followed me. I made sure of it. I just need a drink, sir."

The guard sighed, the tension in his shoulders easing. "Go ahead, help yourself."

Rio grabbed two bottles of soda from the truck, stuffing one into his bag and cracking the other open. The fizzy sweetness was a balm to his dry throat.

"What's the situation out there?" the guard asked, his voice softer now. "I heard a crash earlier."

Rio gulped down the soda, gathering his thoughts. "It's bad. I almost got hit by an eighteen-wheeler outside the fence. The driver was being chased by infected. He probably caused a wreck on the highway trying to escape."

"Damn," the guard muttered, shaking his head. "You deserve that drink, kid. You've been through hell."

"Thanks," Rio replied, his voice heavy with unspoken grief. "Where is everybody? It seems so safe here."

"We let those who wanted to leave go, and the rest are safe in their boarding houses, as for the infected, we took care of them. Some workers volunteered to help us secure the place. I don't know how you slipped through. Maybe you're just a sneaky bastard."

Rio's gaze drifted to the factory walls, thoughts racing.

The guard noticed his distraction. "Kid, you alright?" he asked, following Rio's gaze. "You're not thinking of crossing those walls, are you? It's dangerous out there."

"I wasn't planning to stay," Rio admitted. "I need to get to the quarantine zone. My next stop is Marikina City. Can you help me climb up?"

"Are you insane?" the guard exclaimed. "Helping you do that is like giving you a death sentence! Have you seen the news about Metro Manila?"

Rio crouched down, tying his loose shoelaces tight. "I guess I don't have a choice then," he said, determination hardening his voice. In one swift motion, he picked up his knife and bolted towards the wall.

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"Hey! Stop, kid!" the guard shouted, giving chase. Rio's legs pumped harder, the wall growing closer with every stride. "That kid is fast—!" the guard huffed, struggling to keep up with Rio's desperate speed.

Chasing after the fleeing Rio, the security guard blew his whistle, the piercing sound echoing through the factory grounds and alerting other guards and workers. They quickly joined the pursuit, creating a small but determined crowd. Rio ran frantically until he reached the towering wall, topped with menacing spikes that would grievously injure him if he attempted to climb.

"I can't climb this; it's too high—unreachable," Rio thought, panic gripping him as he searched for an alternative. His mind raced, overwhelmed by trauma and the desperate promise he made to his mother to reach the quarantine zone.

"Stop running, kid!" the security guard called out, panting as he caught up. "I'm trying to keep you safe! You almost got hit by a truck, for god's sake!"

The other guards and factory workers, wearing safety vests, surrounded Rio, cornering him. Their flashlights and stern expressions added to his sense of entrapment.

"Who's this? He's not a worker, is he?" one of the guards asked, pointing his flashlight at Rio.

"He came from outside, slipped through the fences," the first guard explained. "I told him he could stay here, but he's hell-bent on reaching the quarantine zone."

"Got a few screws loose, huh?" another guard chimed in.

"Listen, handsome," the factory manager, a flamboyant yet stern figure, stepped forward. "The government did ask everyone to evacuate to the QZ, but with the outbreak getting worse, it’s chaos out there. The roads are clogged with people trying to get there, and it's a death trap."

"They've incited panic," another worker added. "Everyone’s trying to leave, thinking they’ll be safe, but they’re just making it worse."

"If we could get to the quarantine zone safely, we’d have gone already," a female worker said sadly. "Our families are waiting for us too, maybe they're already sick."

"Well, I don’t have a family waiting for me," Rio thought, his trauma bubbling to the surface. His mother was gone, and he had nothing left to lose.

Without warning, Rio bolted towards the locked main gate, evading the guards. His mind was set on honoring his mother's last words, logic and fear overridden by his trauma. He sprinted towards the gate, calculating his move.

"This gate looks doable compared to the wall," Rio thought.

With his heart pounding in his chest, Rio felt a surge of adrenaline course through his veins. He could hear the footsteps of his pursuers growing closer, spurring him into action. Without a second thought, he sprinted towards the gate, his mind focused and his movements precise.

As he reached the wall beside the gate, he took a deep breath and launched himself at it, his feet finding quick, sure footing on the rough surface. Each step was calculated, a move he had perfected during his time in parkour class. The wall provided just enough leverage, and with a powerful push, he propelled himself upward, his fingers gripping the top of the gate with a fierce determination.

For a split second, he hung there, suspended between fear and exhilaration. The sound of his pursuers seemed distant now, muted by the rush of blood in his ears. Gritting his teeth, Rio summoned all his strength and pulled himself up and over the gate, the cold metal biting into his palms.

"Let him be; he made his choice," the manager said, arms crossed.

"I didn't know our soda could do that. I gave him two bottles, y'know," the security guard remarked, impressed by Rio's agility.

As Rio vaulted over the gate, the thrill of escape surged through him, but the landing didn’t go as planned. His feet hit the ground awkwardly, and before he could regain his balance, he stumbled forward. The world tilted as he crashed to the ground, his face slamming into the rough pavement with a sickening thud.

Pain exploded through his nose, sharp and immediate, and he felt the warm rush of blood trickle down his face. The metallic taste of it filled his mouth, and he groaned, dazed by the sudden impact. For a moment, everything blurred—his breath ragged, his heart still racing from the chase.

"Oh shit, he fell," a worker said.

He couldn’t afford to stay down. Despite the throbbing in his face, Rio forced himself to his feet, his vision swimming slightly as he steadied himself. The ground beneath him felt unforgiving, but he couldn’t let it keep him there. With a determined grit, he took a deep breath and started moving again, ignoring the sting of the injury and the blood that still trickled from his nose. He had to keep going—there was no time to waste.

The chaos of Sumulong Highway unfolded before him like a scene from a nightmare. The air was thick with the acrid stench of burning fuel and twisted metal, while the wail of car horns blared incessantly, a discordant symphony of panic.

Ahead, the aftermath of the horrific accident dominated the highway. An eighteen-wheeler lay on its side, its massive frame crushing cars beneath it. Flames licked the night sky, casting a hellish glow over the wreckage. Vehicles were overturned, mangled beyond recognition, while the desperate cries of those still trapped inside cut through the noise. Evacuees, their faces etched with terror, stumbled along the highway, fleeing the disaster with whatever belongings they could carry.

Rio’s heart pounded as he took in the scene, his senses overwhelmed by the chaos. He could feel the heat of the flames even from a distance, and the sight of the destruction sent a shiver down his spine. This wasn’t just an accident—it was a catastrophe, a battle zone where survival meant escaping as fast as possible.

But as he watched the crowd surge along the main road, Rio knew he couldn’t follow them. The highway had become a death trap, and joining the masses would only put him in more danger. Swallowing his fear, he turned away from the chaos, choosing a different path. His instincts screamed at him to move quickly, to find safety in the shadows away from the madness.

With one last glance at the burning wreckage, Rio set off, his footsteps quick and sure, carving his own way through the night. The road ahead was uncertain, but it was his only chance to stay ahead of whatever was coming next.

"Let's just hope he'll be safe out there," the female worker said, her voice filled with concern.

"Okay, people, let's get back to our positions," another guard ordered, as they resumed their vigil, keeping the factory secure from the infection that ravaged the world outside.