The room inside the facility was cold and damp, the walls lined with peeling paint and layers of dust. Despite the brief moment of relief they’d found behind the locked door, Lena couldn’t shake the image of Adrian’s face, his desperate cry echoing in her mind. The taste of survival felt bitter now, tainted by the weight of the loss. She had barely noticed when the others had made it inside, her thoughts consumed with what had just happened.
 They had made it, yes, but at what cost? Adrian had died so that they could live. And for what? To hide behind a steel door and wait for the inevitable?
 She could still feel the remnants of his scream, his voice trapped in her memory. Rafael was sitting against the wall, his face blank, staring at the door they had just slammed shut. There was a look in his eyes—a kind of emptiness that matched her own.
 The rest of the group had gathered in the center of the room. No one was speaking, the air thick with the unspoken reality of their situation. The sound of their ragged breathing filled the silence, punctuated only by the distant growls and thumps of the undead outside.
 Glenn stood near the door, his hands trembling as he checked the locking mechanism once more. It was sturdy, but there was no way to know how long it would hold. He glanced at the others, his face tense with concern. “We’re safe for now, but not for long. The walls won’t protect us forever.”
 Kai, her eyes wide with fear, nodded in agreement. “What now? Where do we go from here?”
 Lena felt the question gnaw at her. Where did they go? The world outside had become a monster—a relentless, ever-present threat that they could never outrun. The dream of finding a sanctuary was slowly dying, and all they had left was the harsh reality of survival.
 Rafael spoke first, his voice steady, though the pain was clear in his eyes. “We move on. We don’t have time to mourn. If we stay here, we’ll die. The zombies will find us eventually. We have to keep moving.”
 The words were harsh, but Lena knew they were true. There was no time to grieve. There was no time to process the loss of their friend. It was a cruel truth, but it was a truth they all had to live with.
 But despite knowing this, Lena couldn’t help but feel the weight of it. Every step, every decision felt harder than the last. How many more would they lose before it was all over?
 “We need to find food,” Glenn said, breaking the silence. “And we need to figure out what the hell’s going on. Why haven’t the zombies overrun this place yet?”
 Rafael nodded in agreement. “We’ll have to search the building. See if we can find supplies. And we need to secure the area. We can’t let our guard down, not even for a second.”
 Kai shifted nervously. “But what if there are more survivors? What if we’re not alone in here?”
 Rafael's gaze hardened. “Then we’ll deal with them. We don’t have the luxury of trusting anyone anymore.”
 There was a brief silence before Lena spoke up. “What if there’s nothing left? What if this is it? What if we’re just waiting to die here?”
 Her voice cracked with emotion, but it was the truth. The thought that this could be their final refuge was suffocating, a thought that threatened to crush her spirit. But she couldn’t let it show. Not now.
 “We can’t think like that,” Rafael said, his tone firm. “If we give up, then we’re already dead.”
 Lena nodded, forcing herself to take a breath. He was right. They couldn’t afford to break. Not now.
 “Okay,” she said, her voice steadying. “Let’s find something—anything—that could help us. And we’ll be ready for whatever comes next.”
 The others nodded in agreement. The air in the room felt heavier than before, as if the weight of the world had settled on their shoulders. But they had no choice but to keep moving forward.
 Glenn led the way, stepping cautiously toward the hallway just outside the door. Rafael and Lena followed closely behind, their senses alert to every sound, every movement. Kai lingered behind them, her eyes darting nervously as if waiting for something to jump out at them.
 They moved down the corridor in tense silence, each step a reminder of how fragile their lives had become. It was clear that the building had once been a place of industry, long since abandoned and left to decay. But now, it was a maze of dark corridors and forgotten rooms, each one hiding unknown dangers.
 As they turned a corner, they saw what they had feared—another group of survivors. They were huddled in a corner, their eyes wide with terror, hands clutching weapons they didn’t know how to use. One of them—a man with a bloodied shirt—stood up as they approached, his eyes narrowing.
 “What do you want?” he demanded, his voice shaky but fierce. “Stay back!”
 Glenn raised his hands in a peaceful gesture. “We don’t want any trouble. We’re just looking for food. We’ll leave if you want us to.”
 The man’s gaze shifted between them, his grip on his weapon tightening. “You should leave. This place is ours now. We don’t need any more mouths to feed.”
 Rafael stepped forward, his voice calm but firm. “We don’t want to take anything from you. We just need food and supplies. You can have whatever’s left.”
 The tension in the air was thick, and Lena could feel the fear coursing through her veins. They couldn’t afford another fight. They had to be careful, to tread lightly. Their survival depended on it.
 The man hesitated, his eyes flicking to the others in the group. Finally, after a long moment, he lowered his weapon. “Fine. You can take what you need. But don’t make us regret it.”
 The group nodded, careful not to provoke them further. They entered the small room, scavenging what little food and supplies they could find—cans of beans, bottles of water, some basic medical supplies. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to keep them going for a little while longer.
 As they left the room, Lena couldn’t help but feel the weight of their situation pressing down on her. They had found food, yes. But at what cost? How long before the tension between them and the other survivors escalated? How much longer could they survive like this, on the edge of a knife, always one step away from disaster?
 They didn’t have the answers. All they had was what was in front of them—one day at a time, one step at a time. And even though the world around them had crumbled, they had to keep fighting.
 They had no choice.