The world narrowed to the hammering of our shoes against the tarmac, the acid burn in our lungs, the animal knowledge that slowing meant death. Behind us—a writhing mass of survivors and infected, the line between them dissolving in real time.
The corridor lights flickered like a dying heartbeat as we sprinted under Gate 5's blinking red sign:
FINAL EMERGENCY FLIGHT – DOORS CLOSE 6:06 AM
Aaron bulldozed a luggage cart out of the way. I yanked Insha forward as she stumbled. Zayn limped like hell but never stopped moving. The military transport plane waited at the airbridge, its steel flank streaked with old blood.
We hit the stairs as the moans behind us twisted into something worse—not animal growls anymore, but human voices warped by hunger.
The hatch slammed shut behind us with a final THUD.
Outside: fists pounding metal. Screams turning to gurgles.
Inside: silence, except for our ragged breathing.
The intercom crackled. "This is Captain Wang. We depart for Shanghai in sixty seconds. No exceptions."
"China?!" Aaron wheezed.
Zayn wiped blood from his brow. "You wanna go back out there?"
The engines roared to life. A soldier tossed us foil-wrapped rations. Aaron froze when he saw his.
"My mom... she packed me this exact bar. The morning it started." His voice broke. "I told her I'd eat at school instead."
Insha squeezed his hand as the plane lurched forward.
Then—
CRACK!
A white flash lit the cabin. Through the windows, we watched the last rescue plane spiral into the runway, fuel tanks erupting. The survivors still on the tarmac became torchlight.
Aaron stared at his half-eaten bar. "What the fuck are we surviving for?"
The nurse's scream cut through the cabin: "RED LABEL! INFECTED ON BOARD!"
Chaos. A man near us collapsed, his spine arching unnaturally. His jaw unhinged with a wet pop.
We ran.
Not toward safety—just away. Through screaming passengers, over toppled seats. The infected moved faster than anything human should.
The second aircraft's stairs were still down.
We became missiles of flesh and desperation.
Zayn shoulder-checked a soldier. Aaron hauled Insha up by her jacket. I barely felt my legs as we crashed through the final hatch—
CLANG.
The seal engaged with us inside.
Alive.
For now.
"Brace for impact—they're in the cargo hold". We Heard