CHAPTER 42: LEAVING LEXINGTON CHARTER [3]

"Then it’s decided," I said looking at our small group. "But we can’t all leave at the same time. Sydney, you know exactly where your car is, so your group should go first. Move as silently as possible."

Sydney nodded.

The logic was harsh but undeniable. Since we had no idea where the Director’s car was located, our group would inevitably make more noise during our search. And there was another, more terrifying reality I only knew but didn’t speak aloud: Rachel, Elena, and I had become walking magnets for the Infected. Whatever had changed in us, whatever made us different now, it drew those creatures. Taking that risk upon ourselves was the only way to keep the others safe.

"My group will leave after you’re clear," I continued, glancing at Rachel, Elena, Jason, Rebecca, Miss Ivy, and Liu Mei.

None of them protested the arrangement, though I caught the flash of concern in Rachel’s eyes.

"Remember," I added, meeting each person’s gaze, "once we’re out there, there’s no going back. We stick to the plan, we move fast, and we don’t look back."

With our roles established, we began our careful approach toward the gate that led to the parking lot.

Even from our position near the gate, the scope of our predicament became horrifyingly clear. We could see them—dozens of Infected wandering aimlessly through the parking lot, seemingly more than before.

"Jesus," Christopher whispered, his face draining of color. "There are so many more than before."

He was right. The number seemed to have doubled since we’d first arrived at the facility. They moved in loose clusters, some drawn to mysterious sounds or movements only they could perceive, others standing motionless until something triggered their predatory instincts.

I felt my heart hammering against my ribs, the sound so loud I was certain the creatures outside would hear it. Around me, I could see the same terror reflected in everyone’s faces—the wide eyes, the shallow breathing, the way their hands trembled despite their attempts to appear calm.

This was beyond dangerous.

"Listen carefully," I said, gathering everyone closer so I could speak in the barest whisper. "The parking lot is crawling with them. One sound—just one—too loud, and they’ll swarm us faster than we can blink. But they’re also making their own noise, all that growling and shuffling, which might work in our favor."

"Stay calm. Hold your breath if you have to. They’re primarily attracted to sound and movement, so avoid their direct gaze. Move in a crouch, keep your knees bent, and use the cars as cover. Don’t run unless I give the signal—running makes noise and draws attention. And whatever happens, don’t look back to help anyone who falls behind. It sounds cruel, but one person’s mistake can’t doom us all."

Sydney swallowed hard but nodded.

"I need the keycard to open the gate," Sydney said.

Miss Ivy took with the plastic card hanging from her lanyard, and she handed it over.

Sydney slipped the keycard into the reader, and the electronic lock disengaged with a soft click that seemed to thunder in the silence. She eased the door open just wide enough for her group to slip through.

I held the gate steady, watching as Sydney led her group inside. They moved like ghosts, crouching low and darting from car to car with an agility born of desperation. Sydney had parked her car relatively close to the building.

An Infected in a torn security guard uniform wandered past just yards from where Cindy crouched behind a red pickup truck. She pressed herself against the vehicle’s side, her eyes squeezed shut as if not seeing the creature might make her invisible. The thing paused, its head tilting with that disturbing bird-like motion they all seemed to share, but after a moment it continued its aimless patrol.

"They’re almost there," Rachel breathed beside me;

Through the narrow gap, we watched as Sydney’s group reached her car. Sydney fumbled with her keys for what felt like an eternity, her hands shaking so badly she dropped them once. Christopher quickly retrieved them, and finally, blessedly, they heard the soft chirp of the car’s electronic locks disengaging.

One by one, they slipped inside the vehicle. Sydney in the driver’s seat, Christopher riding shotgun, the three girls crowding into the back. For a moment, they just sat there in the darkness of the car’s interior, probably taking a moment to process that they’d actually made it.

"Where’s your car, Miss Ivy?" Rebecca asked quietly.

Miss Ivy pointed toward a white sedan parked about thirty yards away. It wasn’t impossibly far, but the path would take us through several clusters of Infected, and unlike Sydney’s group, we’d have to search for the Director’s car once we located it.

I looked at the Director’s key fob from my pocket.

Then, cutting through the air, we heard Sydney’s engine start. The sound was like a dinner bell to the Infected—heads turned, bodies began shuffling toward the noise with renewed purpose.

But Sydney was smart. She’d anticipated this.

Instead of immediately fleeing, she slowly began to drive toward the parking lot’s exit, deliberately drawing the Infected away from our area. It was a calculated risk that would give us a precious window of opportunity.

"Now’s our chance," I said, gripping the handle of my kitchen knife tightly. "Are you ready?"

The responses came in nervous nods and barely audible whispers of agreement.

I stepped out first, immediately dropping into a low crouch. The others followed.

We moved like a pack of wolves, using the parked vehicles as both cover and guidance. A blue minivan provided our first shelter, then a massive SUV that blocked us from the view of at least half a dozen Infected. I could hear their movements—the scrape of dragging feet, the wet sounds of labored breathing, the occasional moan that seemed to come from the very depths of their corrupted souls.

Twenty yards. We’d made it twenty yards when everything started to go wrong.

The sound of Sydney’s engine grew fainter as she successfully led her pursuers toward the exit, but our own movement had begun to attract attention. An Infected turned in our direction, its head tilting with that terrifying curiosity.

"Freeze," I whispered.

We all pressed against the side of a long car, hardly daring to breathe. The creature stood maybe fifteen feet away, swaying slightly as if listening to music only it could hear. Its eyes—once probably blue and kind—now held nothing but hunger and an intelligence that was somehow worse than mindless rage.

After what felt like hours but was probably only seconds, it turned away, distracted by some other stimulus. We continued our agonizing progress.

Miss Ivy’s car came into view soon enough. But we still needed to find the Director’s vehicle.

I raised the key fob and pressed the unlock button.

The electronic chirp that followed might as well have been a scream. Somewhere deeper in the parking lot, a car’s lights flashed briefly—a blue car, just as Rachel had predicted, parked in relative isolation near the facility’s rear corner.

"There!" Rachel whispered, pointing toward the distant vehicle.

It was far—farther than Miss Ivy’s car, but at least it was in the same general direction. We could make it work.

"Are you ready?" I asked one final time.

When they all nodded, I clenched my weapon tighter and started moving with more urgency. We’d been lucky so far, but luck had a way of running out when you needed it most.

We were perhaps ten cars away from safety when Sydney’s engine roared to life once more. I could see her car racing toward the parking lot exit, a stream of Infected stumbling after it like a grotesque parade. She had even put music.

"Thanks," I muttered under my breath. She was drawing them away from us, giving us the opening we desperately needed.

"Let’s go!" I called out, abandoning stealth for speed as the opportunity presented itself.

We ran in a controlled sprint.

But our movement, despite Sydney’s distraction, hadn’t gone entirely unnoticed.

"Grrrrr!" The sound came from behind us.

Several Infected had turned away from the general pursuit of Sydney’s car and were now focused on us.

"Miss Ivy!" I shouted, abandoning all pretense of quiet.

Miss Ivy reached her car first. She yanked the door open and threw herself into the driver’s seat.

"Get in!" I yelled to the others, making a split-second decision that would haunt me.

It didn’t matter which car we took anymore. Miss Ivy’s car was right here, the engine was already starting, and the Director’s car was still twenty yards away through an increasingly dense crowd of Infected. Mathematics of survival were simple: seven people, one available car, no time for alternative plans.

Liu Mei claimed the passenger seat. Rachel, Rebecca, and Elena piled into the back seat in a tangle of limbs and desperation. That left Jason and me standing outside as the Infected closed in.

"B...Behind you!" Jason’s shout snapped my attention to the immediate threat.

An Infected in the tattered remains of a security guard uniform lunged toward me, its hands reaching with hunger. I caught it by the throat, my fingers digging into flesh that felt both human and utterly wrong. The thing’s skin was cold and clammy, like touching a corpse that refused to acknowledge its death.

Other Infected were converging on our position, drawn by the noise and the scent of living prey. The circle was closing fast.

"Rebecca, can you sit on Elena’s lap?" I asked, still grappling with the creature trying to claw my face off.

"Y...yes!" She replied without hesitation.

"Jason, get in!" I shouted.

"B...but what about you—" His protest was cut short by my next words.

"Just get in!"

I threw my captive Infected into another approaching creature, sending them both sprawling across the asphalt in a tangle of limbs and frustrated growls. The distraction gave me the seconds I needed to shove Jason through the car door and slam it shut behind him.

"Drive!" I told Miss Ivy, who needed no further encouragement.

Through the car’s windows, I could see their faces—Rachel’s eyes wide with horror, Rebecca clutching her sister, Elena’s shock, Jason’s mouth moving in what might have been protests or prayers. Miss Ivy gunned the engine, and the car lurched forward, carrying them to safety and leaving me alone in a parking lot full of the dead.

My breaths came in ragged bursts, every inhale scraping against my throat as if the air itself had turned sharp. My chest rose and fell violently, not just from the sprint but from the surge of adrenaline still flooding my veins.

I moved my legs into motion again and hurled myself onto the hood of a nearby sedan. I scrambled up to its roof, using it as a stepping stone before leaping to the next vehicle, and then the next — an uneven path of dented metal toward the Director’s car.

But halfway there, I skidded to a halt.

They were everywhere. A sea of Infected thrashed and clawed between me and the Director’s vehicle, their pale eyes locked on me. Even if I froze time, I’d barely make it to the car... and the moment it resumed, I’d be trapped inside a steel cage surrounded by teeth and claws. One mistake, one slip, and I’d be ripped apart before I could even turn the key.

My heartbeat thudded in my ears, deafening. My mind screamed for an answer, any answer—and then I saw it.

A motorbike.

The key still gleamed in the ignition. Whoever had tried to use it before hadn’t made it far... their fate probably scattered somewhere in the bloodstains nearby.

It was closer than the Director’s car. Quicker, too. Narrow enough to weave through the wreckage, fast enough to leave this nightmare behind.

No time to hesitate.

I clenched my teeth and triggered the freeze—the world shuddered and then fell still, the air itself locking in place like glass.

I sprinted weaving between statues of monsters frozen mid-lunge. My fingers wrapped around the handlebars as I reached the bike.

I’d only ever ridden one once before a year ago, clumsy and unsteady—but it didn’t matter. Right now, it was my only shot.

I turned the key. The engine coughed, then roared to life, vibrating beneath me.

And then, with my grip tight and my pulse pounding, I let the world move again—and tore off into the chaos.