Liam and the others had been trapped on the rooftop for more than three days, and the only words to describe the time that had passed were dull, suffocating, anxious, and once the food ran out—terrifying.
There are many ways to die. The most peaceful, perhaps, is to drift away under a blanket of sedatives, quiet and painless. The worst, without question, is to be torn apart piece by piece by the undead. But somewhere in between lies one of the cruelest deaths: starvation. And in this new world, it was happening every day, and now it was their turn.
With no food left, it was just a matter of time. Women usually lasted longer than men—biology was on their side. Fat reserves were higher, and their bodies adapted better to hunger. If nothing changed, the men would fall first. Strong, with his powerful build and dense muscle, would burn through his reserves fastest. Manila, with her lithe body and endurance, might be the last to go.
Of course, there was one other way for some to survive longer. But it came at the price of humanity—eating the dead.
Liam didn't know if he'd reach that point. He honestly didn't. People were rational creatures, but when pressed hard enough, starving and desperate, logic fractured. Would he let himself die? Or do the unthinkable? If you're not afraid to die, then why fear eating flesh?
But he suspected he'd never get that far. He wasn't sure he could cross that line. Suicide would likely come first.
Nothing had happened over these days. The apocalypse worked like that. Sometimes chaos came like a wave. Other times, it left you in a vacuum. And the zombies—they were constant. Familiar. Without them, this wasn't the apocalypse.
Other than the quiet conversation he had with Strong, Liam hadn't told anyone about the plan he was sitting on. The more you gave people hope, the harder they fell. Not until the last moment.
By noon, they had shared the final scraps of food, and then silence settled like a shroud. Even Jason—normally full of loud energy, flirting with Kayleeti and trying to crack Strong's stern face—had gone quiet. The air was thick with despair.
Liam stood at the rooftop edge, staring down for a long time. Hoping for a car. A flare. A gunshot. Anything. Some sound to pull the horde away. But nothing ever came. Not then, not now. The city was a vacuum. He should've been used to it, but disappointment still crept in.
And with no miracles on the horizon, they had no choice but to make their own.
Clap. Clap.
Liam turned and clapped twice. It wasn't loud, but it cut through the stillness like a knife. Heads lifted. Even Robby, slouched with a gun across his lap, stirred.
"Get up," Liam said, rubbing his stubbled chin. "We're leaving."
"Leaving?"
The word echoed, uncertain. Liam rose. Robby was the first to move, springing to his feet and jogging over.
"What's the plan?" he whispered.
"It's not me," Liam said, shaking his head. He stepped forward, grabbed Manila's emergency pack—light now, with nothing left to eat—and slung it over his shoulder. He pulled his pistol, unscrewed the suppressor, and held it bare in his hand.
The others followed suit, gathering bags, checking weapons. Jason grinned, too hopeful for the mood, like he might break into a dance.
"How do we get out?" Old Mike asked.
Liam didn't answer. Not directly. He needed one person in particular to believe.
"Come with me."
He led them to the northern edge of the roof, where the bridge ladder had once connected the buildings. The railing had long since been removed. Liam pointed across the gap. "How far do you think that is?"
They exchanged glances.
"Seven meters, maybe more."
"Probably eight."
Liam nodded. "See the ladders on that rooftop?"
They did. Not just one, but several metal ladders lay scattered there, identical to the one Brook had used. He must have hauled up extras for his own escape, but hadn't needed them all.
They all nodded.
Then Liam turned, slowly, scanning past Manila and Christine until his eyes landed on Jason.
"Jason," Liam said.
"Sir!" Jason snapped to attention with a bright grin, saluting.
"Jump."
The smile vanished. "What?"
"Jump to the other roof. I believe you can do it."
That was Liam's plan—if you could even call it that. Get someone across. Jason was their best bet. Liam knew his background well enough by now.
Before the world ended, Jason had been a street kid. Never went to college. Barely finished high school. Restless, unfocused, he bounced from job to job. But he loved to move—skateboarding, rollerblading, basketball—and most of all, dancing. Street dancing. He made money through gigs and shows. And somewhere in there, he'd also done parkour.
It was reckless, dangerous, and exactly the kind of madness Liam needed.
If Jason were a pro athlete, eight meters wouldn't be a question. But he wasn't. Which made this not just a challenge—but a gamble.
"You sure?" Jason asked.
"Everyone step back," Liam told the group. He turned to Jason. "Warm up. I know you've done this before. Maybe not this far, but you know what it takes. I believe in you. You're the only shot we've got."
Jason stood still. Serious. Silent. Liam returned the look. Then Jason gave a small nod, stepped back, and started to stretch. Limbs rolled, joints cracked, muscles loosened.
He'd made his decision.
Laura stood frozen, then broke down. Her hands covered her mouth, her shoulders trembling with sobs. "No… no… he can't… he's all I have…"
Old Mike held her, eyes heavy. He'd never liked Jason much—too loud, too showy—but now, watching him step forward, he felt a weight of respect.
"No," Laura said suddenly, breaking from Mike. She rushed to Liam, grabbed his shirt, shaking. "Don't make him do this. Someone will come. You can't—he can't!"
Jason stopped. Stared. Said nothing.
Laura let go of Liam, ran to Jason, and threw her arms around him. "You can't. Please."
BANG. BANG. BANG.
Three gunshots shattered the air.
Everyone froze.
The shots came from the roof. Liam had fired into the sky.
Zombies screamed in response. The gate downstairs trembled under the weight of pounding fists. Screeches and groans rose in unison, a tidal wave of rage drawn by the sound.
"What the hell are you doing?!" Strong shouted, raising his gun, clutching Kayleeti close. Liam had just triggered their doom.
Robby raised his weapon in return. Manila, Christine, and Mike followed. In an instant, four guns were pointed at Strong, one at Liam.
Tension rippled like a live wire.
Strong didn't know Liam. But the others did. He didn't do things without reason.
Liam lowered his arm, calm. He glanced at Strong, then walked past him, toward Jason.
Robby nodded toward Strong, silently telling him to stand down.
Liam reached Jason, placed both hands on his shoulders, met his eyes, and said slowly, clearly, "Jason, if you die—then we die with you."