The roof is…
I scan the area. No one's here but Mimi and me, and there's no obvious way up besides the path we took.
We're safe.
Thank the stars… We can finally relax.
«We don't lower our guard in war!»
"Let's take a minute to catch our breath," I say, pushing the voice aside.
Remember, Dax—you're a good citizen, not some war-crazed soldier.
We take a moment to rest.
Mimi pulls a protein bar from her pockets and starts eating.
Again?
No way she's hungry already. Is it stress eating?
"Is… Lilith going to be okay?" she asks between bites.
«No mercy for the enemy!»
"I—I'm sure she'll be fine," I say.
«She won't.»
"We've got some of the best doctors here. They'll figure this out," I add, trying to reassure her… and myself.
Not very convincing.
I need to think about something else.
We still have to reach sector two. It shouldn't be too far from here.
I step closer to the edge of the roof and look down.
…Big mistake.
The streets are a nightmare.
Hordes of infected swarm every road. Blood stains the pavement like something out of a horror film. And worse, there are people trying to escape—
Only to get caught.
Space junk…
I can't watch.
Those people… They're—
«Ripped apart, piece by piece!»
T-that could've been us.
Maybe… maybe we should just stay here. It's safe.
«And starve instead?»
Right…
With this many infected, rescue isn't coming anytime soon. And our food? Not nearly enough.
"We need to regroup with Frank and Claire," Mimi says, pulling out another protein bar.
Another one…
Honestly, I kind of wish I could eat my stress away too.
But she's right.
We can't stay here.
«Strength in numbers!»
I glance down again.
The infected seem concentrated on the streets…
Maybe…
"If we move from building to building, we might be able to avoid them," I suggest.
She nods. It's not perfect, but it's better than nothing.
After a short rest, we head for the emergency ladder at the edge of the roof and climb down into the parking lot.
It's mostly deserted—just a few parked cars and a handful of infected wandering around. We'd already seen them from above and mapped out a path to avoid them.
Move to the blue car, turn left, reach the white van, then cut toward the trees—
—and sprint for the apartment entrance.
A couple of infected notice us, but we move fast—slipping inside and slamming the door shut before they reach us.
We end up in the lobby. Empty—thank the stars—but the furniture is in disarray. Something clearly happened here.
«We need weapons!»
No. Civilians don't carry weapons.
«Civilians don't survive either.»
…Ugh.
"W—what do we do now?" Mimi whispers.
We need to keep going, but…
I spot blood stains on the floor. Large ones.
That's… not good.
"Give me a second." I whisper back, setting my backpack down.
I grab my electrical insulating gloves and put them on—they'll offer some protection. Then… I really don't want to do this, but… I grab the wrench, its solid weight settling into my grip.
I—it's just for defense.
«Keep telling yourself that!»
"L-let's go," I say, slinging the backpack back on and holding the wrench like a bat.
We head into the hallway, moving slowly to keep quiet—
BANG!
We flinch—startled—and turn around to the main door. The infected who spotted us are slamming at it.
"We should keep moving," I mutter.
Mimi nods.
We continue down the hall, a bit faster now, but still trying not to make noise.
The hallway is badly illuminated, and most doors are closed.
…Except one.
An apartment door, and inside—
Space junk.
Someone's there.
Infected.
What do I do? Turn back?
The pounding at the front door echoes down the hall.
It won't hold forever.
I take another look into the apartment.
The infected is just standing there, facing the window.
Not moving.
Okay…
I signal Mimi, and we carefully slip past the open doorway.
He didn't notice us.
Good.
We kept going and came across a few more infected along the way—but they all fixated on the windows, barely aware of anything else.
Weird… but it makes it easier to avoid them.
That is… until we reach a vending machine.
"Rraaaug!"
BANG! BANG!
Why is that infected hammering that vending machine like it just stole his money?
No. Doesn't matter. What's important is that he's in the way.
"I don't think we can sneak past that one," Mimi whispers.
Yeah… she's right.
I peak at the infected again. Sickly pale skin, uncontrolled muscle spasms.
"RAAA!" he roars, slamming the machine with terrifying strength.
Yeah. No need to see his eyes to know they're bloodshot red. I'm not dealing with that.
I spot a half-open apartment door nearby.
It's wrong to enter someone else's home uninvited—
Bang!
The infected slams the machine again.
—But the door is already open…
I gesture at Mimi towards the entrance.
She nods.
We slip inside and ease the door shut behind us.
No one's present, but a couple of chairs lie overturned—like someone knocked into them in a hurry on the way out.
"What do we do?" Mimi whispers.
«Cleaning agents, microwave, make a bomb!»
No. Definitely not that.
"Um… the backyard," I suggest. "We can hop the fence and then enter the next apartment."
"Okay, but… how are we supposed to hop the fence?" she asks.
Space junk. She's right. Two short people versus a two-meter fence?
"W—we'll figure something out," I mutter, already moving toward the back door.
The yard is clear. The tall fence keeps the infected out.
Now we just have to get over it…
For people our size, it's going to be difficult, but…
There are a couple of lawn chairs.
I stack them, wobble my way up, and just barely manage to haul myself over the fence. I land on the other side in a less-than-graceful heap, but… success.
"Okay, Mimi, your turn," I whisper.
She climbs the stacked chairs and reaches the top of the fence without too much trouble—until she leans forward a little too much.
Her massive chest swings forward, pulling her off-center.
"Eep!" she squeaks, toppling over the fence—right onto me.
"Uff—!"
I barely have time to react before something huge and overwhelmingly soft crashes into my face, completely smothering me as we both hit the ground.
Her chest.
It completely engulfs my face again—pressing down with a weight that makes it hard to even think, let alone breathe.
"I—I'm so sorry!" Mimi yelps, scrambling off me as fast as she can.
The pressure vanishes all at once, and I suck in a sharp breath of air, coughing as I sit up.
"I slipped—I didn't mean to fall on you—!" she rambles as she backs away, clutching at her chest as if trying to steady it—or maybe hide it.
"It's… fine," I manage, getting back on my feet.
My eyes flick—just for a second—toward her chest.
…And freeze.
Her hospital gown looks even tighter than before.
Pulled taut across her chest like it's barely holding together. And underneath… the outline of her bra—those sports bras we just made—looks just as overwhelmed, digging in slightly like they're already struggling to contain everything.
Did her breasts get… bigger?
No. No, that's—
I shake my head quickly.
Now is not the time to think about that.
"I—I'll check the inside," I say, gesturing toward the apartment. "Make sure it's clear."
I hurry off before Mimi can even get a word out.
The back door's locked—of course it is—but that's nothing I can't handle. I pull out my trusty lock-picking tools and get to work.
It takes a bit of fumbling—hands still shaky—but eventually, the lock clicks.
I ease the door open.
The interior looks… normal. No overturned furniture, no signs of a struggle. The front door's still shut.
"H—hello?" I call out, tightening the grip on the wrench.
«You're giving away your position!»
But this is someone else's house. I can't just barge in unannounced.
"Anyone here?"
No answer. Good—
"Graaa!"
A woman in pajamas suddenly lunges out from one of the rooms.
Space junk!
Her eyes—red. Infected!
I barely manage to jam the wrench into her mouth, stopping her teeth from snapping shut on me.
"Grr!"
She pushes forward with terrifying strength, forcing me back step by step.
"I—I'm sorry for barging in!" I blurt out, like that'll somehow calm her down.
«Just kill her!»
"I—I'll leave—"
"GAA!" she snarls, not slowing down in the slightest.
I keep the wrench wedged between her jaws, arms trembling as I try to hold her off, but she's relentless—stronger than she has any right to be.
My back hits the wall.
«Kill her!»
"Can't we just talk?!"
«She's going to kill you, you fool!»
"Please! I didn't mean to disturb you!"
"GRAAA!"
«She's going to infect—»
I can't—
«Turn you—»
I'm a good civilian—
«And then attack Mimi!»
"Aaah!" I snap.
Grab her head, twist, and slam her hard against the wall.
She's too strong—I can't hold her for long—
On the wall. Light switch. Which means—
I punch through the drywall, grab the electrical cables behind it, and rip them free.
«Yes!!!»
Then shove the live wires onto her.
"KAAAA!!"
Her whole body seizes violently before collapsing to the floor.
"Hah… haha…" I let out a shaky laugh that turns hysterical.
"Hahaha!"
I look down at her.
She's not moving anymore.
And the smell—burnt flesh, thick and nauseating.
"Ah… I missed that smell."
"A—are you okay?"
I turn to see Mimi, peeking in from the back door.
"I'm great!" I say.
Like a fog just lifted over my mind.
Mimi doesn't seem to think so. She glances at the burned body, then back at me. Concern evident on her face—
BANG!
Something slams against the front door.
The infected from the vending machine, no doubt. The noise must have attracted him. So much for staying quiet.
"W—what do we do?" Mimi asks, voice trembling.
"Give me a second," I say, stepping over the body.
I drop my backpack onto the dining table and start pulling things out: nail gun, spare air canisters, tools.
"Just need to make a few… adjustments."
I start tinkering—removing the safety, rigging a second air canister for extra pressure, and reinforcing the frame where it looks like it might give.
We really shouldn't be doing this.
"Oh, why not?"
It's against every safety regulation in the book.
"Safety, shmafty. What we need is firepower!"
It's illegal for civilians to carry weapons!
"Illegal? In a situation like this, who cares?"
"…Who are you talking to?" Mimi asks hesitantly.
I freeze.
"Oh! Was I saying that out loud?"
She gives me a worried look.
"Sorry. Just—ignore that—"
CRASH!
The front door bursts open.
"Eep!" Mimi squeals.
"Graa!" the infected snarls, charging in.
I raise the modified nail gun and pull the trigger.
Bang, bang, bang!
Two shots to the chest, one to the head, just like they teach in the military.
The infected drops.
"See? No problem," I say with a grin, lowering the tool.
Mimi just stares at me, eyes wide.
"Y—you made a gun?"
"Yep!" I tap the modified nail gun. "Now we can actually defend our—"
"Guu…"
We both turn.
The infected twitches.
Three nails buried in it—and it's still moving?
"…Now that's interesting."
"Graa!"