Hadston Elementary School
Inside one of the classrooms, the desks and chairs that once filled the center of the room had been neatly rearranged to the left side, forming a long, wide table. On it, a chaotic pile of supplies was stacked—canned food, medical kits, clothing, tools, batteries. A few thin, weary women stood beside it, sorting through the items and organizing them into categories.
On the right side of the classroom, a group of about a dozen men, women, and children huddled in the corners, their faces etched with sorrow and dread. Even the children, who should have been laughing and playing, wore solemn expressions, their spirits crushed by the despair of the adults around them.
When Andrea and Hannah stepped into the room, this was the scene that greeted them: a heavy silence, a lifeless atmosphere, as if all hope had been drained from the air.
The sisters exchanged a glance. Andrea sighed deeply, her face heavy with exhaustion. Hannah, though expressionless, had a quiet disgust burning in her eyes.
They were a group of survivors from Manchester. Though there was no quarantine zone there, a civilian leader—known as the "Hero of Manchester"—had gathered a large number of survivors and established a secure shelter. Over time, they absorbed scattered groups from the city, forming a strong, organized community.
But as their numbers grew, resources dwindled. Tensions rose. The community split into two factions.
One faction, led by desperate men, advocated attacking other survivor groups and passing travelers to relieve survival pressure. "It's the only way," they argued.
The other faction—Andrea, Hannah, and their companions—firmly opposed such brutality. "This isn't survival," they said. "It's self-destruction. We'll become the monsters we're running from."
What began as verbal disputes soon escalated into physical confrontations.
They believed that by resisting, they could prevent the descent into savagery. But they were wrong.
Because the first strike… was against them.
On a dark night, while most slept, the opposing faction stormed their dormitories. Knives slit throats in silence. Dozens died in their beds, choking on their own blood.
But the metallic stench of blood awakened others. The shelter erupted into chaos. Fists flew. Guns fired. People screamed.
And they lost.
Only a few dozen—Andrea, Hannah, and a handful of others—managed to escape. But the shelter was their only home. Where else could they go?
In a final, desperate act, they opened the shelter's gates… and let in the starving infected from outside.
What happened next… no one knows for sure.
But when they looked back, they saw the shelter engulfed in flames. From kilometers away, they heard gunfire that never stopped.
They fled Manchester. On the road, they heard rumors of a safe haven: the Atlanta Quarantine Zone. With no other destination, they agreed to go there.
But after five years, the cars on the streets were long dead. None would start. They had no choice but to walk.
For three months, they marched on foot. They faced storms, infected hordes, starvation, disease. They lost friends. Buried bodies. Finally, they reached Peachtree City, exhausted, planning to rest before continuing to Atlanta.
But they never expected this small town already had its own survivor group—and that they were hostile.
One by one, their members disappeared. Among them, Andrea's boyfriend, Ed, and his companion Barren, who had gone out to scout.
They remained in Peachtree City not by choice, but by necessity: they had to find Ed and Barren… and rescue the others who had been taken.
"Did you find him?"
As soon as she sat down, Andrea grabbed her sister's hand, her eyes filled with desperate hope. Since Ed vanished, her anxiety had only grown.
At first, she believed he'd been captured. She tortured one of the local attackers, but he swore Ed and Barren weren't with them.
That answer filled her with a dark premonition.
For two days, she led frantic searches in the area where Ed was last seen. She needed to find him—alive or dead.
But she found nothing. And while she searched, others complained. "We're wasting time. Maybe Ed found supplies and left for Atlanta with Barren."
Andrea didn't believe it. But the pressure was unbearable. She couldn't ask for more help. The group needed her as a leader.
So she asked Hannah to keep searching in secret.
Seeing her sister's hopeful look, Hannah felt a knot in her chest. But she shook her head.
"No… no trace."
Andrea lowered her gaze, disappointed. She'd heard this answer too many times. She took a deep breath, recomposed herself.
"Did you find anything else?"
As she spoke, her eyes already scanned the room. Many in the group were losing patience. She'd need to calm them. Convince them to stay a little longer.
"Yes!"
"Then go get Hall… Wait, what?"
Andrea started to rise, ready to leave. But as the words sank in, she froze.
She looked at her sister, puzzled.
Hannah glanced around, making sure no one was listening. Then she gripped Andrea's arm, pulled her back down, and leaned close.
"Today, while scouting that area… I saw soldiers."
—What?!
Andrea froze. Her face shifted from shock to relief, then to concern.
—Soldiers? Where?
—In the north of town. Inside the shopping mall.
Hannah closed her eyes, recalling.
—I was watching… but suddenly, he looked this way. I don't know if he saw me. Then Uncle Coben called me for help. I was afraid he'd come, so I left.
—I see…
Andrea sat back, thoughtful. Her initial excitement faded. With the information she had, she couldn't draw clear conclusions.
She looked out the window. The sky was darkening. The others would return soon. She'd need to discuss this with them.
But then, she lifted her head.
—Did anyone else see him?
Hannah understood who she meant: the local group. The ones who attacked them, kidnapped their friends, made Ed disappear.
Just thinking of them made her clench her jaw.
If it weren't for them, they'd already be in Atlanta. Their loved ones wouldn't be dead or missing. They wouldn't be trapped in this hell.
They'd even had to hide in infected-heavy zones just to avoid being found.
—I don't know… —Hannah said. —But… he fired inside the mall. It was loud. They must've heard it.
Andrea frowned. She wasn't satisfied. But she knew Hannah was only fourteen. Doing this much was already brave.
What worried her most was the soldier's safety.
Peachtree City was very close to the Atlanta Quarantine Zone. There was a high chance he was from there—a scout sent ahead by a supply convoy.
If so… he could help them.
They could ask him to help rescue their companions. They could join the convoy and reach the quarantine zone together.
The more she thought, the faster her mind raced.
But she also feared the worst.
If the convoy didn't know what was happening here… if the locals attacked them… it could be a massacre.
She couldn't wait.
—Click.
The classroom door opened. The bearded man, Hall, entered, his belly leading the way. He scanned the room, found Andrea.
—Everyone's back. They're waiting for you upstairs. They have something important to tell you.
—Perfect!
Andrea shot to her feet, renewed energy surging through her. She ran out of the classroom, heading up to the second floor.
This couldn't wait. She needed a decision. And fast.