Ethan, his face grim, kept his eyes fixed on the road, navigating a treacherous path through the heart of the apocalypse. Cars, twisted and mangled, lay scattered like discarded toys, their occupants long gone, devoured by the insatiable hunger of the undead. Fiona, Rachel, and Mayka huddled together in the back, their faces pale with fear. The world outside was a horrifying spectacle of chaos and decay, a stark reminder of the fragile nature of their existence. "We won't make it to the bunker before dawn," Fiona said, her voice barely a whisper. "We need to find somewhere safe to rest." Ethan nodded, his gaze never leaving the road. "I know," he said, his voice tight. "But we have to keep moving. The longer we stay in one place, the more likely we are to be found." The bus lurched to a halt, its engine sputtering to a stop. Ethan turned to the others. "Stay here," he instructed. "Lock the doors. I'll scout ahead." He opened the door and stepped out into the oppressive silen

Wyne, his former boss, had been the one who had refused to listen, who had refused to follow Ethan's warnings. He had paid the ultimate price, left to die along with the rest of the unprepared. But Rachel had followed Ethan, trying to get closer to him, trying to worm her way back into his good graces. But Ethan wasn't fooled. He knew her game, and he was determined not to let her manipulate him again. He had learned his lesson. He would never forgive her for her betrayal, for the pain she had caused him. He would never trust her again. He turned back to Fiona, his eyes filled with a strange mix of determination and despair. "We wait," he said, his voice barely audible. "We wait for the fever to start." The silence returned, heavy and suffocating. Outside, the sun was setting, casting long, ominous shadows across the landscape. The air was still and quiet, but beneath the surface, a current of fear and anticipation ran through the car. They were all trapped in a nightmare, a n