University of Washington, Student Commons
October 17, 11:24 a.m.
Rain hammered the shattered skylights as Christoph slammed the metal door shut, locking it with a fallen broom handle. His breath came in harsh bursts, fogging the air. Elara stumbled in behind him, clutching her camera against her chest.
The room was half-dark, emergency lights flickering red like heartbeat monitors. Abandoned bags, phones, and spilled coffee covered the floor, remnants of an ordinary morning torn apart.
"Anyone here?" Christoph's voice cracked as it echoed through the empty commons.
No reply. Only the faint sound of wind outside and somewhere distant, the dragging shuffle of feet.
He moved to the window. Outside, the quad was gone. Smoke twisted from burning cars. The bodies weren't still anymore.
He swallowed hard. "They're turning faster now."
Elara steadied her breathing, eyes fixed on the chaos below. "How do you know?"
He gestured to a group near the fountain. Students lying motionless moments ago were rising, twitching, staggering upright. One screamed, a sound that no longer seemed human.
Christoph turned away. "We need to find supplies. Food, first aid"
Elara caught his wrist. "Wait. Listen."
A faint voice came from deeper inside the building.
"Help! Somebody, help us!"
Christoph's instincts kicked in. He motioned for Elara to stay low, then crept toward the source, a half-collapsed corridor where ceiling tiles had fallen, trapping a handful of students behind a vending machine barricade.
When they saw him, one girl waved frantically.
"Please! They're in the hall!"
Christoph shoved aside a fallen chair, forcing open the doorway. Three students scrambled out, two guys and a girl, faces pale and eyes wide with fear.
"Thank God," one said. "We thought everyone was dead."
"Not yet," Christoph replied. "This place won't hold forever. What's your name?"
"Marcus," the taller one said, catching his breath. "That's Dana, and this is…"
He looked to the trembling girl at his side.
"That's Mia. She got scratched."
Christoph froze.
"Scratched how?"
Mia lifted her sleeve. Blood had dried around a gash on her arm, not deep but not clean either.
"It was… a guy in the hallway. He wasn't right. He just jumped me."
She broke off, shivering. "I'm fine now, though. Right?"
Elara met Christoph's eyes, silent question between them.
He didn't answer.
Instead, he tore a strip of cloth from his shirt and tied it tightly above the wound. "We'll figure it out later. Right now, we move."
"Where?" Marcus asked.
"Upstairs. The security room might have a radio."
They started moving carefully, quietly, past bloodstained lockers and shattered windows. Every sound made them flinch. The fire alarm had stopped, replaced by the low, distant hum of generators trying to stay alive.
Elara whispered, "You think the military will get here?"
Christoph didn't answer right away. He glanced at the world outside, the streets crawling with figures, the flashing lights of crashed police cruisers, the helicopter wreckage burning on the field.
"They're already here," he said quietly. "Just not for us."
11:56 a.m.
The security room door was locked. Christoph jimmied the handle with a piece of metal while Elara kept watch. Mia sat on the floor, breathing shallowly, sweat running down her temple.
"Christoph…" she murmured weakly. "It hurts."
He tried to ignore it, tried to focus on the lock.
But when it clicked open, the smell hit them.
Rot. Blood.
Inside, two bodies lay slumped over the monitors, campus guards, throats torn open. Elara gagged, turning away. Marcus swore under his breath.
Christoph stepped over the bodies, scanning the monitors. Most were black, but one still showed a flickering image, the main entrance.
A mob of infected students slammed against the glass doors, over and over, until the cracks began to spread. He knew what came next.
"Barricade the hallways," he ordered. "Tables, chairs, anything. They'll be inside soon."
Marcus nodded and ran. Elara hesitated.
"What about Mia?"
Christoph looked back.
The girl was shaking violently now, clutching her arm, eyes glassy.
Her breathing hitched.
"Christoph…" she whispered.
Then her voice dropped to a guttural growl.
"Run!" Christoph shouted.
Mia lunged.
He shoved Elara behind him as the infected girl snapped her teeth inches from his throat.
She was fast, too fast.
He grabbed a chair leg from the floor and swung.
It cracked across her skull. She fell, twitching, still growling until the second hit silenced her.
Elara stared in horror. "She was"
"She was gone the second she got scratched," Christoph said, panting.
For a moment, the room was silent except for their breathing.
Then the sound came, the echoing thunder of glass shattering downstairs.
The infected were inside.
12:09 p.m.
They barricaded the stairwell with filing cabinets and desks. Every thud below shook the walls. Christoph gripped the chair leg like a weapon. Elara crouched near him, camera forgotten, hands trembling.
"This isn't just some flu," she said.
"No," Christoph replied. "It's something else. Something designed."
Her eyes darted to him. "You think it's man-made?"
He didn't answer. But the thought lingered, in the way the infection spread too fast, too precise, like it had a pattern.
Marcus returned, breathing hard. "They're climbing. Up the damn walls."
"Then we need to move. Now."
"To where?"
Christoph looked at the emergency map on the wall. There was only one place left that might hold, the biology lab on the top floor. Reinforced doors. Chemical supplies. Maybe weapons.
He pointed. "There."
Elara nodded. "Then let's run."
The pounding grew louder, closer.
They sprinted down the corridor, through smoke and flashing lights, the infected screaming behind them like a chorus of the damned.
As they reached the stairwell, the floor trembled. An explosion somewhere below. Flames licked through the vents.
Christoph turned back once, just long enough to see the commons swallowed by fire.
And through the heat, the silhouettes of the dead still walked.
12:22 p.m.
They burst into the top-floor lab, slamming the door shut. Marcus shoved a metal table in front of it, breathing ragged.
Christoph moved to the window. The city skyline was barely visible through the smoke. Helicopters circled. Gunfire echoed. Entire blocks burned.
Elara stood beside him, whispering, "It's spreading faster than anyone can contain."
He turned to her, eyes hollow but determined.
"Then we don't wait for help. We find a way out of this city."
Below them, the last of the glass gave way.
The dead poured into the building.