Back in Mr. Sanders' apartment, Jill and Beverly sat near the window, talking softly while the world outside stayed still and gray.

“I understand what you mean,” Jill said, nibbling on a cookie and glancing down at her hands. “I worry all the time. I already believe my parents are dead. They went on a trip and… they never came back.”

Her voice cracked slightly on that last part.

“Oh, sweetie…” Beverly’s expression softened as she pulled Jill into a gentle hug. “I’m so sorry you’ve had to carry that alone.”

Jill leaned into the embrace for a moment, letting out a shaky breath.

“What about Natalie?” Beverly asked, brushing a bit of hair from Jill’s forehead. “Are her parents still alive?”

Jill hesitated, then replied quietly, “Her father was killed in the war of 2112…”

“2112?” Beverly blinked, pulling back a little. “How could he be her father—twelve years before she was even born?”

Jill let out a nervous laugh. “Yeah… it’s a long story. You might want to sit down for this.”

Down on the main level of the apartment building, Mr. Sanders and I were getting ready. We were not going to be caught off guard.

A dead zombie lay on the floor next to us.

Wait… aren’t they all dead?
I giggled to myself at the thought. A weird, nervous kind of laugh—the kind that bubbles up when you’re trying not to lose it completely.

Mr. Sanders dragged the body closer and began cutting it into pieces with a grim expression. I knew what he was about to do, and my stomach turned.

This part always made me sick.

I hated the smell of rotting flesh. It clung to everything—your clothes, your hair, even your skin. But if you wanted to get through a herd of the dead without ending up one of them, you had to use camouflage. Gross, gory camouflage.

I asked Mr. Sanders to put some on himself. He gave me a look that said absolutely not—but he did it anyway. I respected that. Even if he looked like he wanted to vomit.

We were supposed to check out the pool again, but after peeking through the doorway windows and seeing how many zombies were still lingering in there… yeah, no thanks. That plan changed fast.

New plan: get out of the building, find more weapons, maybe some gear. Anything that could help us stay alive.

“You know where the police station is?” I asked.

“Yes, but it’s secured tight,” he answered.

“Damn,” I muttered under my breath.

He turned sharply. “Watch your mouth, young lady. No girl should be swearing at that age.”

I shrugged, trying to play it off. “Yes, sir…”

We finished smearing the zombie guts. The stench was unbearable. I gagged more than once, but I reminded myself—it was the stink that would keep me safe.

Moving slow and silent, we crept into the lobby. Mr. Sanders eased the door open, and we slipped out. Not a single zombie noticed. They didn’t even turn our way. They must’ve thought we were just more of them.

We didn’t speak. Not even a whisper.

We wandered through the Skyway—the same one Jill and I had been in the other day. We followed a narrow glass corridor that led to another building. It looked like a bank.

“Why are we at a bank?” I asked, lowering my voice. “We don’t need money. We’re not gonna rob a bank, are we? That’s kinda pointless. What would we even buy? Zombie insurance?”

Mr. Sanders cracked a half-smile. “Most people don’t know this, but banks have guns hidden inside. Security guards. Vaults. Panic rooms. They don’t rely on tasers.”

Huh. That was news to me.

We moved carefully through the Skyway, checking out every bank we could reach. It was eerie—like strolling through a ghost town inside a glass maze. The dead shuffled along down below, some even inside the buildings we passed. But none of them noticed us.

There was so much to see, but nothing was open. Shops locked up. Lights off. Chairs overturned. The whole place felt frozen in time—like everyone had just... vanished. I found myself wondering what this place looked like before everything went to hell. Coffee shops, fancy restaurants, little boutiques. There was even an anime store. I made a mental note: if we ever made this area safe, that was the first place I’d loot. Jill could have her books. I wanted plushies and DVDs.

Mr. Sanders tugged at my arm. “No dawdling.”

Ugh. Fine. It was boring checking bank after bank, especially when none had anything useful. I still thought the police station would’ve been faster. I mean, I am kind of good at breaking through security. He doesn’t know that yet.

We passed a store with shattered windows and a dark blue sign: Twin Cities CelDirect. Not just any phone shop—this one sold satellite phones too. That could actually be useful. I squinted to memorize the name. I’d look it up online when we had Internet again. Assuming the net was even still a thing.

“This is nothing compared to the Minneapolis Skyway system,” Mr. Sanders said with a dry laugh. “But even there, you can get lost. Let’s keep moving. We’ve got a lot to do.”

By the time we made it through the entire section, my legs ached. I spotted a map on the wall and stepped over to check where we were.

“Wabasha Street,” I muttered, tracing the path with my finger. We had traveled nearly half the Skyway by now. Not far from the library. That made me perk up a little.

I wasn’t the biggest fan of books, but maybe I could find one on survival. Or something about zombies. Or—better yet—I could grab one for Jill. She’d be so happy to have a book of her own.

“Can we go to the library?” I asked Mr. Sanders hopefully.

He glanced out a nearby window. “It’s going to get dark in an hour. We better head back.”

I frowned. “Why? We’re fine. We’ve got weapons.”

He didn’t answer right away. He just started walking.

I groaned and dragged my feet, reluctantly following. I didn’t get it. Why now? We were still camouflaged. Still safe. But he was clearly spooked by something.

As the sun dipped lower and the shadows stretched across the buildings, we picked up the pace. Something about the air felt different. Heavier. Thicker.

Then we heard it.

A low, guttural sound. Not quite a moan. Not quite a growl. It echoed faintly at first—but it was there. And it wasn’t coming from one direction.

It was coming from everywhere.

Mr. Sanders pulled his gun instantly. I froze, heart pounding in my chest. The sound grew louder. Closer. It was wrong. It wasn’t the usual undead groan we were used to.

It was something else.

Something worse.

I swallowed hard.

What the hell was it?

Just then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw the freakiest thing I’d ever laid eyes on.

This wasn’t a regular zombie… or maybe it was? I couldn’t tell. Whatever it was, it was chasing us—and it didn’t care about the camouflage. I couldn’t believe it. The disguise wasn’t working.

This thing was bigger than any of the zombies we’d seen before. Mutated. Wrong. Terrifying.

It reminded me of those creatures from the Resident Evil movies and games. Its body looked like it was made of slime—barely holding together, all warped and melted. The head was shaped like a demon, twisted with rage. Its arms moved like snakes, slithering with every step. Its teeth looked like they could chew through steel.

I wished this was a dream. I didn’t want to be here anymore.

Then—bam—I tripped.

I hit the pavement hard, my breath knocked out of me. Mr. Sanders stopped, turned, and fired his gun. The blast echoed through the streets. It hit the creature—but it only staggered it. Stunned it, maybe.

It wasn’t enough.

I scrambled to my feet and kept running.

We were about a block from our apartment entrance when we got cut off. A pack of creatures stepped into our path.

At first, I thought they were dogs.

Man’s best friend, right?

Wrong.

These things looked like dogs that had crawled out of a nightmare. Mangled, mutated, and growling like they hated the world. One glance, and I realized—they were the same kind I’d seen earlier. The ones I’d mistaken for regular strays. Yeah… not even close.

I gripped my katana tighter. Mr. Sanders had his gun trained on the mutant behind us. He was quick—but so were the dogs.

Now I understood why he said we needed to be back before dark.

The freaks really did come out at night.

The mutant was getting closer. I couldn’t see it, but I could hear it. Wet, slithery footsteps, getting louder. Mr. Sanders kept firing, but it wasn’t dying. Nothing was stopping it. Nothing worked.

My eyes snapped back to the dogs. Why weren’t they attacking? They just stood there, growling low, like they were waiting for something.

And then… I knew what it was.

Zombies.

They were coming in from all directions. The ones in the streets must’ve finally figured it out—we weren’t one of them. The camouflage had worn off. They started shuffling toward us, groaning, faster this time. More alert.

I spun in place, heart racing, and that’s when I heard it—

A scream. No… a shriek. So loud, so inhuman, it cut through the air like a blade.

I jumped a mile high.

“What the hell was that?” I gasped.

And then I saw it.

The dogs weren’t waiting for us.

They were waiting for it.

From the shadows came something massive. A new creature. It looked like a dog, but way bigger. Its muscles rippled beneath rotting flesh. And it had three heads—like a monster straight out of Greek mythology.

Like Cerberus.

Only uglier.

Each head had rows of razor-sharp teeth, and from the middle one, a tongue shot out—long and thick, like a whip. Only this tongue had teeth at the end.

And it came straight at me.

I swung my katana, but missed. The tongue zipped back, just inches from my face. I stumbled backward, trying to get distance.

Snap! It lashed again.

This time, I struck. The blade hit its mark. I cut the tongue clean off.

It hit the ground with a wet smack, the little teeth still twitching.

Why did it only attack with one tongue if it had three heads?

Then I realized—it only had one tongue. A long, weaponized horror coming from whichever head wanted to use it.

I stood frozen for a moment, heart pounding, the katana still raised.

Was it studying me?

The other dogs just stood back, watching. Their eyes never blinked. Never moved.

What was Mr. Sanders doing? I could still hear gunshots, not far from me. But it didn’t sound like anything was working. I wanted to switch enemies—let him deal with this thing and I’d take the other one.

Actually… never mind. Forget I said that.

Then it happened.

The Cerberus creature charged.

All the dogs with it.

I screamed.

There was no way I could survive this. Not with just a katana. Not against that.

I knew, deep down, this might be the end.

…

BOOM!

“Wait! What happened? How did—?” I spun around, eyes wide. Mr. Sanders stood beside me, just as stunned. His mutant was gone. So were mine.

Dead.

All of them.

But how? We were still standing. Alive. Breathing.

There was a massive hole torn into the wall, revealing the world outside. Guts were splattered everywhere—chunks of monster flesh steaming in the cold air. The smell hit me hard—three times worse than anything I’d smelled before.

Zombies outside the building turned toward the sound. Some pressed against the glass. We were exposed.

And then, out of nowhere, a child appeared.

I blinked. He looked to be about nine years old.

“Who are you?” I asked, breathless. He looked like a boy—just a kid—but something about him felt... different.

He stepped out from behind a toppled desk, and following behind him was a little girl, about my age.

“My name’s Hunter Ziegler,” he said calmly. “And this is my sister, Madison.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” I mumbled, still trying to wrap my brain around what had just happened. “But… how did you kill those mutants?”

Hunter gave a crooked smile. “You gotta stay ahead of the game if you wanna survive the zombie apocalypse. I had a bazooka.”

“A bazooka?” I yelped—then instantly regretted it. “You could’ve killed us!”

“I could have,” he said with a shrug, “but I’m very talented with it. I angled the shot away from you and your old man there—just enough to take them both out with one blast.”

I stared at him, half-impressed, half-terrified. “What about the mutant dogs?”

“They ran off. But they’re not far. They’ll be back, which is why we need to get moving.” He looked at me seriously. “By the way, where do you live?”

Mr. Sanders raised his hand and chuckled. “We’re only about a block away. I live on the top level.”

Hunter nodded. “Fine with me. I like a challenge. My sister might not be too thrilled about it, though.”

Madison didn’t say anything. She clung to her brother’s arm, clearly not a fan of the stairs ahead.

I wasn’t thrilled either. There was no way I could ask Mr. Sanders for a shoulder ride—not with two new kids here. That wouldn’t be fair to... Madonna? Madeline? What was her name again?

Oh. Right. Madison.

We started the climb.

As we made our way up, I felt a weight settling in my chest. I was disappointed. We didn’t even get a chance to work on the pool. Not that it would’ve mattered—it was almost November. Snow could hit any day now, and the pool would just freeze over.

Wait… was it November?

I paused.

Is today Halloween?

Of course it would be Halloween. The scariest day of the year—and here I am, nearly killed by a demon-zombie dog.

I tried to retrace the days in my head.

Jessica came back from Argentina on October 25th. I remembered because she wouldn’t stop joking about her plane ticket—flight 1025, seat 1025, departing at 10:25, and arriving on 10/25. All those 10-25s. She thought it was hilarious.

Didn’t seem so lucky now.

That night, we got trapped in the McDonald’s. The next day—the 26th—we made it back home, just in time for the storm. On the 27th, Jill and I ended up stranded after the car broke down. Then we rode the train—probably the 28th. We arrived in Saint Paul and met Mr. Sanders on the 29th. On the 30th, we tried (and failed) to clear out the pool and met Beverly.

And today...

It is Halloween.

Great.

It’s funny how my brain works when I wander. The more I think, the faster time moves. Before I knew it, we were only one floor away from Beverly’s.

Hunter stayed alert the whole time. Every creak, every corner, he was ready. That gave me some peace of mind.

But deep down, I felt something else.

Disappointment.

For a while, I thought I was the best zombie whiz around. But now... Hunter made me feel like everyone else. I wasn’t special anymore. I felt a tear slip down my cheek as I watched Madison drag her feet up the stairs behind her brother.

If only there were a way to clear out every level of this apartment building. Then we could fix the elevator. Never have to climb stairs again.

Finally, we reached the top.

It was quiet up here. Still.

We knocked on Beverly’s door with our secret knock—the one we’d come up with so she’d know we weren’t zombies. A second later, we heard another knock in reply. A light one. That was Jill’s signal.

I knocked once more.

The door opened.

It was Jill, smiling from ear to ear. Of course, if Beverly had been the one answering, she’d have looked through the peephole first. But Jill and I were both too short to be seen that way—hence the knock pattern.

It was good to be home.

Even if “home” was now the top floor of a zombie-infested apartment building.

As we walked in, Jill spotted Madison and Hunter.

“Who are they?” she asked.

“These are two children we found along the way,” Mr. Sanders answered.

“They helped us when some hideous monsters attacked us,” I added quickly.

“The name’s Hunter,” he said, stepping forward and holding out his hand. Jill and Beverly shook it. Then he pointed toward his sister. “And this is my sister, Madison. If it wasn’t for me, she might not be here. I’ve been protecting her since the very first day.”

He paused, his voice growing more serious. “We lived outside, where the dead roam. We even stayed at the local homeless shelter—Dorothy Day Place. Lots of the dead living there.”

“That was scary,” Madison pouted, clutching his arm.

“I wasn’t scared,” Hunter said proudly. “There was food. We had weapons. The zombies couldn’t get at us.”

“You might not have been scared,” I replied, trying to hold back my frustration. “But choosing an open shelter where zombies can just walk in and eat you while you sleep doesn’t exactly sound like—”

“Shut up!” Hunter snapped. “Madison and I stayed in a locked room every night. We could see everything happening and had a trapdoor on the roof to escape. I know what I’m doing. At least I don’t stand around and wait for a Cerberus to chase me.”

That hit too hard.

My chest tightened, and my face burned. I turned and ran into another room, tears already falling.

“You didn’t have to be so mean to her,” Mr. Sanders growled.

Jill and Beverly looked at each other and exchanged a knowing glance before following me. They found me curled up on the bed, crying into the pillow.

“I don’t want to see anyone,” I sobbed.

“What’s wrong?” Beverly asked softly, sitting beside me and rubbing my back gently.

“I spent years watching zombie movies and shows,” I cried, voice muffled against the sheets. “I read all the books. I studied. I learned everything so I’d be ready when this day came. And now… I ruined it. I drank the Isisraxtosa formula like an idiot. I could’ve been smart. But now I’m stuck in this tiny girl’s body with a tiny brain, and I lost everything I knew.”

I shook as I cried harder. “Hunter’s bragging like he’s the smartest person alive. Like I’m just some kid. I studied too. I did! How about he drinks the formula and sees how it feels!”

Beverly didn’t say anything at first. She just stayed there with me, quiet and patient.

Eventually, I curled back into the bed, sniffling. She reached into a small drawer and pulled out something I hadn’t seen in years. A pacifier.

She held it out gently.

I knew it was for babies. I knew I was too old. But right now? I didn’t care.

I took it.

Gradually, I accepted it.