As the students crowded around the lockers, clattering through the metal stands, Ryker caught Julian's arm. He didn't pull him hard, just gave a small nod toward the side of the equipment cage where it was a bit quieter.
Julian stopped, looking over his shoulder at the group before turning back. "What's up? We gotta get a move on."
"We should leave them behind," Ryker said. His voice was quiet, casual. Like he was suggesting they skip a class.
Julian's eyebrows shot up. "Are you serious?"
"Think about it," Ryker said, leaning back against the metal mesh of the cage. "Lou is still shaking so bad she can barely stand. If we take so many terrified people into a narrow stairwell, someone is going to panic and clog the whole line."
He glanced over at the crowded locker doors.
"The radio just said it only takes a scratch, and they turn in ten minutes," Ryker continued. "If someone gets clipped in the dark, they're turning right next to us. You and me, we can just run for it and be on the roof in two minutes."
Julian stared at him, his face hardening a bit. He didn't look angry, just stubborn. He obviously got the point, but he wasn't going to acknowledge it.
"I'm not doing that, Ry," Julian said. His voice carried that usual confidence where he didn't think he needed to explain himself. "I'm not leaving people behind just because it's easier."
He adjusted his grip on his shirt collar, looking back toward the students.
"We move as a group."
Ryker looked at him, his face completely blank.
"You're going to get yourself killed," Ryker said.
It wasn't an insult, and there was no anger behind it. It was just a statement.
Julian blinked, completely caught off guard by the bluntness, and then he let out a sudden, genuine laugh. He clapped Ryker on the shoulder, shaking his head.
"Yeah, whatever man," Julian grinned, turning back toward the lockers without taking it to heart at all. "Just grab a bat and let's go."
Julian approached the heavy metal door, his baseball bat raised slightly, muscles completely rigid.
He didn't just push it open.
After the screaming they had heard minutes ago, he paused, pressing his shoulder against the steel and cracking it open an inch.
Two other varsity players, the soccer captain and a tall guy from the basketball team pressed in right behind him, weapons ready, their breathing shallow and panicked.
They were the ones used to taking charge on campus, but right now, their hands were slick with sweat.
Ryker stood dead in the middle of the pack.
He wasn't eager to lead at the front, and he wasn't going to get pinned at the back. He just kept his space, watching the back of Julian's head.
Julian exhaled slowly, then pushed the door wide enough for them to slip through.
The hallway outside wasn't clean.
It was a slaughterhouse.
Dark, thick blood was smeared across the walls, dripping down the lockers in long, messy streaks. The floor was slick with it, reflecting the deep, unnatural twilight bleeding in from the narrow exit windows.
There weren't any full bodies lying around, which somehow made it worse.
Instead, severed fingers, a torn-off shoe still attached to a foot, and unrecognizable chunks of flesh were scattered across the linoleum.
Nobody spoke.
Someone in the back gagged, the sound muffled by a hand.
The easy confidence Julian had displayed in the gym stiffened, his jaw tightening as he stepped over a dark, congealed puddle.
"Stay close," Julian whispered over his shoulder, his voice tighter now, though he still kept his shoulders squared. "Straight to the stairs."
They bypassed the main ground-floor exit, the squeak of their sneakers sounding sickeningly wet against the floor.
Ryker kept his distance in the center of the crowd, his eyes tracking the red handprints dragged along the walls.
As they rounded the corner toward the stairwell landing, the line ground to a halt.
Slumped against the base of the concrete stairs was the first full body they had seen.
It was a girl wearing a university track jacket, lying face down.
"Oh my god," the soccer captain muttered, his hockey stick dipping toward the floor. "Is that... is that Maya?"
Before Julian or the others could stop her, a girl from the bleachers pushed past them.
Her face was twisted in pure grief.
"Maya? Maya, wake up!"
Ryker didn't process the tragedy.
From his position in the middle of the pack, his eyes immediately locked onto the track jacket.
The fabric across the girl's shoulder was torn to shreds, but the wound wasn't bleeding anymore.
Her fingers were twitching in a rhythmic, spasming pattern against the concrete.
Her neck, where the collar shifted, was already a sickly, bruised gray.
Ten to forty minutes.
The broadcast echoed in his mind.
But what if the broadcast was wrong?
What if the timeline was completely unpredictable?
If the virus stalled in some people, someone could get scratched, show zero symptoms for hours, and walk right into their safe zone before turning into a monster.
Ryker didn't wait to find out.
He immediately took three sharp steps backward.
Because he was packed tightly into the crowd, he slammed hard into the varsity player right behind him, knocking the guy off balance.
The sudden, violent collision rippled through the center of the line.
The surrounding students caught the absolute panic in Ryker's sudden retreat and instinctively scrambled away from him, creating a chain reaction of bodies shoving backward.
Julian's eyes darted from the body to the sudden commotion in the middle of the pack.
Seeing Ryker and the others frantically backing away, Julian mirrored the movement perfectly, dropping his baseball bat into a defensive stance and retreating.
The soccer captain and the other leader followed Julian's cue, instantly scrambling backward.
But the crying girl was already on her knees, reaching out.
"Maya, please—"
"Get back!" Ryker whisper-shouted, his voice a sharp, commanding hiss.
It was too late.
The body on the floor snapped awake with explosive speed.
There was no slow groaning, no struggle to stand.
Maya's upper body simply whipped backward like a coiled spring, her milky, dead eyes locking onto the girl.
Instead of a typical tackle, Maya's hand shot out with terrifying precision, her fingernails digging deep into the girl's face.
Before the girl could even process the pain, Maya pulled her closer and clamped her jaws directly onto her open, screaming mouth.
There was a horrific, muffled crunch as teeth tore through lips and jaw, swallowing the girl's scream into a sickening, wet choke.
"Run!" Julian roared, his voice booming over the sudden panic as he grabbed the nearest student and shoved them toward the steps. "Run! Go up! Go up!"
The crowd completely fractured, sprinting blindly into the dark stairwell to escape the blood on the landing.
The muffled, choked scream had barely left the girl's throat before the entire building seemed to shift.
Outside the high frosted windows, the frantic, aimless sprinting of the things in the quad instantly stopped.
Ryker could hear it through the brick walls the sudden, dead silence of dozens of creatures freezing at the exact same millisecond.
Then came the turning.
A heavy, synchronized stampede of footsteps hit the asphalt outside, converging on the gym block from every direction.
They weren't wandering anymore.
They had a target.
"Up! Up! Move!" Julian screamed, his voice cracking as he shoved students into the narrow mouth of the concrete stairwell.
But so many people couldn't fit through a single doorway at once.
The line instantly bottlenecked.
The tall basketball player who had been helping lead the group rammed his way to the front.
Completely abandoning his role, he violently shoved a girl out of his way to get onto the steps first.
The girl hit the concrete hard, her head bouncing off the bottom step.
Nobody stopped to help her.
Blinded by panic, the students right behind her didn't even look down.
They just stepped over her, heavy sneakers stomping on her arms, her legs, her chest, pinning her to the floor as they scrambled upward.
Ryker watched the entire thing.
Because he was stuck dead in the middle of the pack, the sudden surge from the back and the bottleneck at the front squeezed him right into the epicenter of the chaos.
Behind him, the glass panes at the end of the hallway exploded, and the horde poured through the metal frames like an unleashed flood.
The back half of the line vanished under a wave of gray skin and snapping jaws in a matter of seconds.
The creatures were right there.
Close enough for Ryker to smell the rot.
Yet, as they tore into the students around him, the things weirdly swerved past his position, ignoring him for a split second to grab the screaming targets throwing themselves up the steps.
Ryker didn't even notice.
He just froze.
For the first time since the blackout, the cold, analytical distance in his mind shattered, replaced by something far more complicated.
His legs went entirely numb.
His boots felt glued to the concrete landing.
His eyes were wide, completely locked onto the girl who had just been trampled to death on the floor.
He felt a deep, sickening spike of terror his chest heaved, his heart hammering against his ribs.
But beneath the fear, tucked away in a dark corner of his mind he would never admit to a soul, a bizarre spark of adrenaline flared.
It was thrilling.
Watching the absolute, raw collapse of human order right in front of him was fascinating.
He forced himself to label it as pure fear, masking the dark curiosity pulling at his throat, but his gaze wouldn't unlock from the body on the floor.
A shadow lunged into his peripheral vision, teeth snapping inches from his shoulder.
Suddenly, a violent grip caught the front of Ryker's jacket.
Julian had pushed his way back down against the upward flow of the screaming crowd.
His face was pale, his teeth bared as he forcefully hauled Ryker backward up the first two steps, breaking his trance.
"Ry! Wake up!" Julian roared over the deafening noise, slamming his baseball bat blindly into the face of a creature reaching for Ryker's ankle. "Move your legs!"
Julian's yank broke the anchor holding Ryker's boots to the floor.
"I'm up!" Ryker shouted, his legs finally remembering how to move.
The remaining survivors were already half a flight ahead, their heavy footsteps echoing wildly off the concrete walls.
Below them, the landing was a churning mass of gray limbs.
They were the absolute last ones left on the steps.
As Julian scrambled up ahead of him, Ryker followed a half-step behind.
His eyes dropped to the floor.
The trampled girl lay directly across the narrowest point of the path.
Right as his foot lifted to clear her, Ryker's ankle gave a sudden, awkward twist.
His boot clipped the edge of the concrete riser.
"Whoa—!" Ryker let out a sharp gasp, his arms flailing outward as he completely lost his balance on the slick stairs.
His heavy boot came down squarely on the girl's ribs to catch his weight, a muffled crunch echoing in the stairwell.
The momentum propelled him forward, his hand slamming into the wall as he scrambled up the next two steps in pure, breathless panic.
Julian whipped his head around at the sound of the trip, instantly grabbing Ryker's shoulder to steady him.
"You good?! Keep moving, don't look down!" Julian yelled, his face tight with concern. He didn't question it for a second, immediately turning to sprint up the next flight.
"Yeah," Ryker breathed, his voice shaking just enough as he fell back into stride right behind him.
He didn't look back.
His footing was secure, his momentum hadn't slowed down, and they were gaining ground.