Three months had passed since the world collapsed, and nothing had improved.
From the upper floors of the Alps Builders Building, the city still looked frozen in time. Abandoned cars filled the streets, trash scattered along the sidewalks, and the infected wandered aimlessly between the silent buildings. Every day looked the same as the last.
Kevin stood beside the large glass window of the marketing office, staring down at the street with a calculating expression. He had spent many hours observing the infected below, studying how they moved and how they reacted to different sounds. They were slow, mindless creatures, driven mostly by instinct. Watching them for weeks had given Kevin a sense of confidence—perhaps even arrogance.
Behind him, Chelsea sat at the long conference table with the remaining food supplies spread out in front of her. She had been carefully counting everything they had gathered from the building's pantry weeks earlier.
Canned meat. Instant noodles. Crackers. Energy bars. A few packs of dried fruit.
When they first collected the supplies, the amount had seemed impressive. At the time, it felt like they had secured their survival.
Now, it looked very different.
Chelsea finished counting the last row of cans and let out a quiet sigh. She leaned back in her chair and looked toward Kevin.
"This won't last forever."
Kevin didn't turn around right away. His eyes were still fixed on the infected wandering below the building.
"I know," he said calmly.
Chelsea folded her arms.
"We've already eaten almost half of the good supplies."
Kevin finally turned and walked toward the table. He glanced down at the small piles of food Chelsea had organized.
"There's still enough," he replied.
Chelsea shook her head slowly.
"If we ration carefully, maybe six months."
Kevin frowned slightly.
Six months sounded long under normal circumstances, but in a ruined world with no certainty of rescue, it suddenly felt short.
Chelsea tapped her finger lightly on the table as she thought.
"There's a café downstairs."
Kevin knew exactly what she meant.
Several small businesses rented spaces on the ground floor of the Alps Builders Building. There was a small café that office workers used to visit every morning, a bakery that sold bread and pastries, and right beside them was a 7-Eleven convenience store.
Before the outbreak, the area had always been busy with people grabbing coffee or snacks during work breaks.
Now the entire block was silent.
Chelsea continued, "There might still be food inside those places."
Kevin leaned against the table and crossed his arms.
"You think we're the only survivors in the city?"
Chelsea shrugged.
"No."
"Then someone could have already taken everything."
"Maybe," she admitted. "But maybe not."
Kevin rubbed his chin while thinking.
"There's a problem."
Chelsea raised an eyebrow.
"What problem?"
"There's no connecting door from inside this building to those stores."
Chelsea blinked in surprise.
"What?"
Kevin explained patiently.
"The café, bakery, and the 7-Eleven are separate rental spaces. They have their own entrances."
He pointed toward the street below.
"You can only enter them from outside."
Chelsea slowly understood what that meant.
"So you're saying…"
"Yes," Kevin interrupted. "To get inside them, we have to go outside the building first."
The room became quiet.
They had survived for three months by staying inside the Alps Builders Building. Going outside meant stepping directly into the territory of the infected.
Chelsea walked slowly toward the window and looked down at the street. Several infected figures wandered near the entrance of the building. One of them dragged a stiff leg behind it, while another stood near a parked car, swaying slightly as if it had forgotten how to move.
"That's a lot of them," Chelsea muttered.
Kevin stepped beside her, his eyes calm.
"I've been studying them."
Chelsea looked at him.
"You have?"
Kevin nodded confidently.
"They react strongly to sound."
Chelsea frowned.
"Well, obviously."
Kevin smiled slightly, as if he had already solved the problem.
"That's exactly why this will work."
Chelsea crossed her arms.
"What will work?"
Kevin turned and began explaining his idea with growing excitement.
"We lure them away from the front of the building."
Chelsea tilted her head.
"How?"
"With noise."
Kevin pointed toward the upper floors.
"You stay inside the building on the fifth floor."
Chelsea waited for him to continue.
"You use the megaphones and the portable speakers we found in the conference storage room."
Chelsea remembered them. The equipment had originally been used for company presentations and building announcements.
Kevin continued explaining.
"Turn them on. Make as much noise as possible. Use the megaphone, play loud audio through the speakers, bang on things, anything that creates sound."
Chelsea slowly began to understand the plan.
"The infected will hear it."
Kevin nodded.
"They'll follow the noise."
"And because the sound is coming from inside the building, they'll gather around the back entrance and the lower floors trying to reach it."
Chelsea thought about it for a moment.
"But they can't get inside."
"Exactly," Kevin said.
The building's entrances were all secured. The infected could crowd around the doors, but they couldn't break through.
Chelsea would be completely safe on the fifth floor. The only person exposed to danger would be Kevin. He would be the one leaving the building.
Kevin continued confidently, "While they're distracted by the noise you're making, the front of the building will be clear."
He pointed toward the street again.
"That's when I go down."
Chelsea frowned.
"You'll go outside alone?"
Kevin shrugged casually.
"They're slow. I'll be fine."
Chelsea wasn't convinced.
Kevin kept explaining his plan.
"You stay on the fifth floor and keep the noise going. Don't stop until I come back."
Chelsea asked, "How long?"
"About thirty minutes," Kevin replied.
"That should be enough time to pull most of them toward the back of the building."
Chelsea nodded slowly.
"And while they're busy trying to reach the sound…"
"I enter the café and the 7-Eleven."
Chelsea glanced back at the food on the table.
"If you see clothes," she said, "take them too."
Kevin raised an eyebrow.
"Clothes?"
"Yes," Chelsea replied seriously. "Autumn is coming soon. Winter after that."
Kevin scoffed.
"We're inside a building with heaters."
Chelsea frowned.
"Still."
Kevin waved dismissively.
"Food comes first."
Chelsea didn't respond, but her expression tightened, of course Kevin would think that way. After a moment Kevin smirked and said, "If you're so worried about clothes, you can go outside and get them yourself."
Chelsea looked at him with irritation.
"Fine," she said coldly. "Food first."
Kevin chuckled.
He knew she wouldn't argue further.
The truth was simple. Their food supply would only last about six months if they were careful. Maybe less if they got careless and if other survivors discovered the stores before them, they might lose their chance completely.
Kevin began preparing for the next day.
He gathered a gun, crowbar, a backpack, and several flashlights. Then he returned to the window one last time and watched the infected wandering below.
For weeks he had studied their behavior. Slow and easy to manipulate. Kevin felt certain his plan would work. Finally, he turned back toward Chelsea. "We do it tomorrow."
Chelsea looked up from the table.
"When?"
"When the sun is high," Kevin answered. "Full daylight."
Chelsea nodded.
"Okay."
Kevin smiled confidently as he looked once more toward the small café sign hanging outside the building.
"By tomorrow afternoon," he said proudly, "we'll have enough food to last us a year."
Chelsea didn't answer.
She simply stared down at the infected slowly wandering the street below. For some reason, watching them made her uneasy.
Tomorrow would be the first time Kevin stepped outside since the world ended.
And she could only hope his confidence wasn't about to become a deadly mistake.