The sound didn't register as glass at first.
It was too sharp. Too sudden. A violent crack that ripped through the store and into every nerve like a gunshot fired indoors.
Justin came awake on instinct, heart slamming, already halfway to his feet before his brain caught up. His hand went for the weapon that wasn't there. His eyes scanned for movement, for shadows, for the shape of something inside that shouldn't be.
Mari bolted upright with a strangled gasp, chest heaving. For half a second, she was certain it had gotten in. That the door had failed. That the dark had finally crossed the line and found them sleeping.
Kenzie jerked awake too, clutching instinctively at her chest where Barbie slept zipped against her ribs. The dog whimpered softly, confused, warm and alive. Kenzie pressed her chin down, shielding her, already bracing for screaming that might never stop.
No one spoke.
The silence after the sound was worse than the noise itself.
Then Tally's voice cut through it.
"They're alive," she said, breathless. "There are people out there."
Justin's head snapped toward the front of the store.
Tally stood at the window.
Too close to it.
Her palm was already lifted.
"Tal—" Justin started, moving without thinking, panic threading his voice.
She didn't wait.
Her hand came down hard against the glass.
The slap echoed through the store, reverberating off metal shelves and tile, loud enough to make Mari flinch like she'd been struck.
"HEY!" Tally yelled. "HERE!"
The sound traveled.
It didn't just leave the store—it announced it.
Justin felt it in his bones, the way soldiers described explosions before you ever saw the fireball. A vibration in the chest. A wrongness in the air.
Outside, five figures running down the road stumbled mid-stride.
They turned together, faces snapping toward the sound like sunflowers toward light.
For a heartbeat—just one—hope bloomed on them so fast it hurt to witness. Relief. Recognition. The animal joy of realizing you weren't alone after all.
Mari saw that hope and felt sick.
Because behind them—
"Oh no," she whispered.
Behind the five, spilling out of smoke and shadow, drawn by Tally's voice like blood in water, came the dead.
Not shuffling.
Not wandering.
Running.
Nine. Maybe twelve.
Too many to count cleanly because they moved wrong—limbs pumping too fast, mouths open, feet slapping pavement with the sound of meat on stone.
The moan hit next.
Low and layered. Wet. Hungry.
Justin froze.
Not because he didn't know what to do—but because for the first time that night, he understood how small their choices really were.
The look on his face wasn't anger.
It was horror.
And something else underneath it—recognition.
Tally saw it.
She felt it land in her gut like a dropped weight, cold and sudden.
For the first time since she'd slapped the glass, doubt flickered through her chest.
Too late.
"Oh my God," Mari whispered, voice cracking as the reality slammed into place.
Then the whisper shattered.
"What the fuck are you doing, Tally?!" Mari screamed. "Are you stupid?!"
Tally didn't turn around.
She couldn't.
Her eyes were locked on the five outside—the way panic overtook them as they finally saw what was behind them. One of the women screamed. One of the men tripped and barely caught himself.
"They're going to die!" Tally yelled back. "I'm helping!"
"You don't know them!" Mari shot back, moving forward now, rage cutting through fear like broken glass. "You don't know what they'll do if they get in here!"
"They're people!" Tally snapped. "What kind of person just lets them—"
"Yes!" Mari screamed. "Yes, because you don't know if they'll rob us, kill us, take the truck, or kick us out! You don't know anything, Tally—you just act!"
Tally spun then, finally turning, face flushed, eyes wild.
"You're such a stupid cunt."
The word landed like a slap.
Kenzie flinched—not because it was new, but because it was familiar. Tally always went for the throat. Always loud. Always cruel when she felt cornered.
Kenzie had learned a long time ago that girls like Tally got away with everything. Pretty. Popular. Loud enough that people listened even when they were wrong. Money in her pockets and a family that loved her no matter what mess she made.
Kenzie stayed quiet.
She always did.
But inside, something hard shifted.
Outside, one of the women stumbled.
A hand—gray, wrong—grabbed the back of her hoodie.
She screamed.
That broke the argument.
"Enough!" Justin shouted, voice raw, commanding in a way that brooked no argument. "It's already done."
He was already moving.
"Fighting won't fix it," he snapped. "Move!"
He turned and ran for the back.
Kenzie didn't hesitate.
She rose smoothly, already unzipping the pack just enough to check Barbie's breathing, heart pounding but focused. She followed Justin because that's what survival looked like—action, not noise.
Mari stood frozen for half a second longer.
She stared at Tally like she was seeing her for the first time.
Not a scared girl.
Not a reckless sister.
A liability.
Justin shouted again from the back, "NOW!"
The store erupted into motion.
Tally slapped the glass again, screaming, "BACK! GO TO THE BACK OF THE STORE! NOW!"
The horde gained ground.
Justin burst through the back door into the alley, yanking it wide. The Jeep loomed where he'd parked it tight against the loading dock, leaving only a narrow, filthy crawlspace beneath.
"UNDER THE JEEP!" Justin roared. "SLIDE UNDER IT!"
Kenzie dropped to the ground just inside the doorway, ready to grab hands, ready to pull.
The first man hit the concrete hard, skin tearing as he slid beneath the Jeep, blood smearing the ground. Another followed, sobbing openly. Someone screamed as teeth snapped inches from their ankle.
The dead rounded the corner.
Hands slapped metal.
Teeth clacked.
Justin dragged bodies inside as fast as he could, muscles burning, lungs screaming. Kenzie hauled with him, refusing to look at what snapped just outside the door.
The last woman dove through.
Justin slammed the door and locked it just as something crashed into the Jeep hard enough to rock it.
Inside, the five collapsed in a shaking pile.
"Oh my God," one sobbed. "Thank you—thank you—"
"Quiet," Justin hissed. "Everyone be quiet."
The moaning circled the building.
Justin turned slowly.
His eyes found Tally.
She stood by the front window, chest heaving, pale and defiant.
"I helped," she said.
No one answered.
And for the first time, the silence felt heavier than the screams outside.