Everyone rushed toward the back door.
The bartender reached it first and shoved it open.
Fresh air rushed inside.
The narrow alley outside looked empty.
For a brief second, hope appeared.
Then one of the remaining infected burst into the kitchen.
The man with the baseball bat turned and swung.
CRACK!!!
The bat smashed into the creature's head.
It dropped instantly.
"GO!" he yelled.
The group rushed out into the alley.
Diego jumped over a pile of trash bags and nearly slipped on the wet pavement.
Rafael grabbed his arm and pulled him upright.
"Watch it!"
Behind them the infected spilled out of the kitchen door.
The bartender who had opened the exit tripped on the step.
Before anyone could help him, one of the infected lunged forward and tackled him to the ground.
His scream echoed through the alley.
Diego looked back for a split second.
"Jesus…" he couldn't finish his word...as rafael grabbed the back of his shirt.
"Don't look. Run."
The remaining survivors sprinted down the alley.
Now only four of them were left.
Rafael, diego,One bartender.
And the man with the bat.
They didn't stop running until the bar was two streets behind them.
Finally Rafael slowed down and bent over slightly, catching his breath.
Diego leaned against a wall, chest rising and falling rapidly.
"Man…" he gasped. "That… that went bad real fast."
The man with the bat wiped sweat from his forehead.
"At least we're alive."
The bartender nodded weakly.
Silence fell over the group.
Diego looked down the street.
The city was still filled with smoke and distant sirens.
Somewhere far away another explosion echoed faintly.
He shook his head slowly.
"Raf…"
"Yeah?"
Diego rubbed the back of his neck.
"I hope Mela made it somewhere safe."
Rafael stared down the empty street ahead of them.
His expression hardened slightly.
"Yeah," he said quietly."Me too, I hope she is in somewhere safe."
None of them knew it yet.
But somewhere in the city, their sister was still moving, still fighting and also looking for them.
While Mela's brothers managed to escape the bar with their lives, even though the group had suffered losses, their sister was also fighting her own battles across from streets among them.
Somewhere in the city of Manila, Mela Cruz and Jasper continued moving through ruined streets, searching for her missing brothers and a safe path toward their grandmother's home.
But far away, on the other side of the world, another story was unfolding.
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Nigeria had not been spared at all.
From Lagos to Abuja, from Port Harcourt to Kano, the outbreak had spread like a storm that no one had predicted.
Communication towers were failing.
Roads were blocked with abandoned vehicles.
Entire neighborhoods had gone silent.
Inside Aso Rock Presidential Villa in Abuja, the atmosphere was tense.
The large conference room that usually hosted political discussions had been transformed into a temporary crisis command center.
Several monitors showed live feeds from security cameras, drone footage, and scattered military broadcasts.
Most of the footage showed the same thing.
Chaos.
Burning streets with running civilians and the infected roaming and hunting what ever they could get their claws on.
A/N- I think I call them claws cus they are really sharp as knives you know (-_-;)・・・
Around a long table sat a group of government officials, military officers, and security advisors.
The room smelled faintly of stale coffee and exhaustion.
Everyone had been awake for hours.
At the head of the table stood Major General Ibrahim Danjuma, a man in his early fifties with a hardened expression carved into his face by years of military service.
He pointed toward one of the screens.
"This was recorded two hours ago," he said.
The screen showed shaky drone footage of a residential district.
Several infected moved slowly along the road while soldiers positioned behind armored vehicles fired controlled shots.
One infected dropped.
Then another.
But more kept coming.
"They're not fast," the general continued, "but they're relentless. And the biggest problem is their numbers."
He paused.
"and also the infection."
The military personnel here have all been brief on what is happening even they can't force themselves to believe but the truth is actually staring at them in the face.
One of the ministers spoke up from the table.
"Explain."
The general crossed his arms.
"Our medics confirmed it. Bite or deep scratch… infection spreads fast."
"How fast?"
"Five minutes."
The room fell silent.
One of the intelligence officers shook his head slowly.
"That's insane."
General Danjuma nodded.
"That means every soldier we lose becomes another enemy."
Another officer stepped forward and placed several folders on the table.
"We've also confirmed something else."
He opened one of the folders.
"Some people are… changing."
The officials exchanged confused looks.
"Changing.... how?" someone asked.
"Enhanced physical ability," the officer replied. "Faster reflexes. Higher strength levels. Some have developed strange skills."
One of the ministers frowned.
"You're saying mutations?"
The officer hesitated.
"That's one way to describe it."
General Danjuma spoke again.
"We currently have a few individuals in military custody who show signs of these changes."
Another screen lit up.
It showed several soldiers in a training yard surrounded by armed guards.
One of them moved unnaturally fast, dodging a practice strike and countering with a powerful blow that knocked the opponent down.
"They're stronger than normal humans," the general said.
"But they're not invincible."
He looked around the table.
"One mistake and they bleed like anyone else."
A senior government advisor leaned forward.
"Can they fight the infected effectively?"
"Yes," the general replied.
"But they're still human. Fear, fatigue, injuries… all of that still applies."
Another officer entered the room quickly and saluted.
"Sir."
General Danjuma looked at him.
"What is it?"
"We've received a request from the higher ups."
The officer handed over a document.
The general read it quietly for a moment.
Then his expression changed slightly.
One of the generals noticed.
"What is it?"
General Danjuma placed the document on the table.
"A priority extraction."
"Where?"
"A secondary school in Port Harcourt."
Several people in the room looked confused.
"A school?" someone asked.
The general nodded.
"One of the higher up's children was enrolled there."
A few murmurs spread around the table.
The advisor frowned.
"And we're only hearing about this now?"
The general shrugged slightly.
"Apparently the child wanted to keep a low profile. Didn't want attention."
The generals and other ministers and security higher ups sighed.
"Kids."
The intelligence officer spoke up again.
"What's the current status of the location?"
The officer who delivered the message answered.
"Reports indicate heavy infected presence in the surrounding area. But the school compound itself may still have survivors."
General Danjuma straightened.
"Alright."
He looked toward several soldiers standing near the wall.
"We send a small team."
"How many?" one officer asked.
"Six."
"Only six?"
"They won't be ordinary soldiers."
The general pointed toward the screen showing the enhanced fighters.
"Send three of them."
The room went quiet again.
The advisor spoke carefully.
"You're trusting them with a mission already?"
"They've already proven capable in combat trials," the general replied.
"And frankly… we need every advantage we can get."