Miku pressed herself flat to the ground, the rough gravel biting into her palms.
She had to move quietly, inch by inch, and pray none of them would notice her.
Her jeans and white shirt—both filthy from days without washing—stuck to her skin.
The dirt and sweat helped her blend into the dusty ground, but it didn't stop her heart from hammering in her chest.
Her long black hair brushed the dirt as she crawled. Each movement was painfully slow.
One of the zombies turned its head suddenly, sniffing the air, and Miku froze completely.
The seconds dragged on. Then, at last, it turned away. She exhaled softly and kept crawling.
The first house she reached was locked. She tugged at the door handle gently—no response.
The curtains were drawn, and there was no sign of life.
She tried peeking through a window but saw only darkness inside.
