Christopher and Sydney rushed forward, reaching out desperately, but they were just inches short as both Elena and I slipped over the edge together.
"No!" I heard someone scream—maybe it was me.
As we fell, my desperate hands found the frame of an open window one floor down. My fingers closed around the concrete and metal frame with a death grip, my other hand still clutching Elena's arm. We hung there, suspended over a drop that would certainly kill us, both our lives depending on my ability to hold on.
Just below us, dozens of infected had gathered, drawn by the commotion above. They reached upward with grasping hands. If we fell, we wouldn't just die—we'd be torn apart while still alive.
Creeeak!
I looked up in growing horror as hairline cracks appeared in the window frame under our combined weight. The concrete was beginning to crumble, and I could feel the metal frame starting to pull away from the wall.
