No one really slept.
They drifted in and out—heads tipping forward, bodies jerking awake at every little sound: a shuffle outside, a moan too close to the windows, the crackle of something still burning down the road. Even when eyes closed, the mind stayed wide open, replaying the night in ugly loops. Every time someone's breathing got too deep, they startled themselves back to the surface, guilty like sleep was a mistake.
By the time the sky began to lighten, everyone was already awake.
Justin noticed it first—not the dawn, but how the silence changed shape.
Night had been loud in a constant, muddy way. Moans layered over each other. Footsteps wandering past the storefront. The occasional scream far enough away that it echoed instead of cutting. Darkness blurred the edges and made everything feel like it might still be a nightmare.
Morning did the opposite.
Gray light crept in slow and unforgiving through the front windows, through the grime, through the smears and dust. It illuminated what the dark had been kind enough to hide: the pale trail of footprints across the tile, the dried streak of blood along the bottom of a shelf, the scuffed marks where someone had dragged something heavy across the floor at some point—maybe last night, maybe before they ever arrived.
Outside, Savannah didn't wake up.
It was already dead.
Justin stayed low, careful not to cast a silhouette. He peered through the glass and felt his stomach sink in a way the night hadn't managed.
Less than twenty-four hours.
That was all it had taken to make the city look like a war zone.
Across the street, a storefront was burned out—blackened frame, windows punched out, the smell of smoke still hanging like a memory. Two blocks down, a house had collapsed inward, roof caved in as if something had crushed it from above. Cars sat abandoned at angles that didn't happen during normal accidents. Some were crumpled into poles. Some were left in the road with doors hanging open, as if people had stepped out mid-thought and never finished it.
And there was blood.
Not movie splatter. Not neat.
Trails.
Handprints dragged across asphalt. Smears where someone had crawled. A torn shoe near the curb. Something caught in the storm drain that Justin's brain refused to name.
Bodies.
Parts of bodies.
And the dead.
They wandered openly now, without the frantic chase they'd seen in the night. No sprinting. No sudden rush. Just aimless drifting—heads tilted, arms slack, mouths hanging open. They bumped into cars. They walked into walls. They stopped and stood still for long stretches, swaying as if listening for something that wasn't there anymore.
The moaning carried clearer in daylight, too.
Lower. Thicker. Like it had weight.
Justin swallowed hard and stepped back from the window.
Inside the store, the air was stale with sweat and fear. The small space felt even smaller now that the sun was rising and there was nowhere for the night to hide. The five people Tally had pulled in were clustered toward the back—some half-asleep, some pretending, one man sitting upright with his eyes open and unfocused like he didn't trust his own body to shut down. Someone coughed. Someone shifted and made the shelves creak, and heads turned automatically like a reflex.
Kenzie was awake, sitting cross-legged near the shelves. Barbie was curled in her lap, finally calm after the long night. Kenzie's hand moved slow and steady over the dog's fur like she was trying to pet herself back into reality.
Mari sat on the floor near the counter, knees drawn up, arms wrapped around herself. She hadn't slept at all. Justin could tell by the tension in her jaw, the way her eyes tracked the room like she was counting exits, threats, people. Like she was trying to keep control of something that had stopped obeying anyone.
And Tally—
Tally was already standing.
She hovered close to Justin, shoulder almost brushing his arm, eyes flicking between the window, Mari, and the strangers. Her posture was defensive—chin lifted, arms crossed like armor. The daylight sharpened her edges. Fear sat beneath her skin, but instead of softening her, it made her brittle and mean.
She broke the fragile quiet like she couldn't stand being ignored.
"Well," Tally muttered loudly, "guess we should've stayed home."
No one answered.
Mari's jaw tightened.
Justin exhaled slowly. "Tal—"
"I'm just saying," Tally continued, louder now, like volume could rewrite the past. "Everybody wanted to run around all night like idiots, and now look. This place is disgusting."
Kenzie's hand paused on Barbie's fur.
Mari finally lifted her head. Her eyes went flat. "You're unbelievable."
Tally snapped toward her. "Excuse me?"
"You almost got us killed," Mari said. Her voice wasn't loud, but it was sharp enough to slice. "Again. And you're standing here acting like everyone else is the problem."
"I helped people," Tally fired back. "You would've let them die."
"You don't know what you brought into this building," Mari said. "You don't know who they are."
"You don't know me," Tally shot back. "And you don't get to talk to me like you're in charge."
Justin stepped in automatically, the way he had all his life when Tally got heated and the room got dangerous. "Enough."
Tally clung closer to him, fingers brushing his sleeve like a claim. "She keeps coming at me."
Mari let out a bitter little laugh. "You hit the glass, Tally. You woke everybody up. You drew them here. Don't act like you're the victim."
Kenzie shifted—quiet, almost apologetic. "Tally… maybe you should just—"
Tally's head snapped. Her eyes narrowed like she'd been waiting for a reason. "Don't talk to me."
Kenzie flinched.
"You don't get an opinion," Tally continued, voice sharp and cruel, "not after last night."
Kenzie's mouth opened, then closed. Her gaze dropped. "I'm sorry," she murmured. "I didn't mean—"
Mari was on her feet immediately. "No. Don't apologize to her."
Tally scoffed. "Wow. Look at you. Saving the day."
Mari stepped closer. "You are not better than her because you're louder. And if you keep acting like this, you're going to get someone killed."
"Say that again," Tally hissed.
Justin grabbed Tally's arm before she could surge forward. "Tally. Stop."
She yanked away. "Why are you always taking her side?"
"I'm not," Justin said, exhausted. "I'm trying to keep everybody alive."
"You're choosing her," Tally snapped.
The sound carried.
A newcomer stirred. Another sat up, blinking, confused, eyes darting around the store like they were waking into the wrong reality.
A man near the back muttered, "What the hell did we walk into?"
Justin felt his control snap back into place like a seatbelt catching.
He looked at the newcomers and forced his voice to lower. "I'm sorry," he said. "Everyone's on edge. Nobody slept. Nobody knows what's happening outside. But we don't turn on each other."
Tally folded her arms tighter, lips pressed thin.
Mari stepped back, breathing hard through her nose.
Kenzie stayed quiet, eyes down.
Justin nodded once, like he was making a decision out loud. "We're going to talk. We're going to figure out where we are, what supplies we have, and what comes next."
He glanced back toward the window.
Outside, the dead shuffled past, unaware—for now.
"But first," he said, voice quieter, "we need to know what you five were running from… and what you were running to."
In the creeping morning light, the illusion of safety they'd built overnight cracked a little more.
And nobody pretended they didn't hear it.