Different place, same suffocating darkness.

Etta sat on the floor with her back against the cold metal door. Knees pulled to her chest as she dried her face with her sleeve. The bulb to the closet has long ago busted, leaving her only source of light coming from the crack beneath the door. Her nerves finally calmed for the most part as she gained a sense of the new reality around her. Still, every little creak and distant thud beyond the door made her jump. Every time a shadow staggered by, she held her breath once more and found herself sliding to the nearest corner of the room.

Her fingers brushed against something cold and smooth — a shelf. As her eyes adjusted, she realized the supply closet wasn’t as empty as she’d thought. She reached out, fumbling along the shelves. Plastic bottles rattled beneath her fingers. Etta pulled off her backpack and started digging around until her hand felt the familiar plastic of her camper lantern. It was a tiny teal colored thing, a battery-operated light disguised to look like a vintage lantern. Bought for summer camp when she was only ten, Etta found the light cute, despite the other girls teasing of its function.

Now was its time to shine once again...literally. Turning the knob, it came to life. A soft beam of light cut through the darkness she had been in for so long. Etta quickly took in her surroundings sweeping it across the small space. Shelves lined the walls, stacked with boxes and medical supplies. A few bags of saline dangled from metal hooks. A mop and bucket sat in the corner, next to a plastic bin overflowing with discarded gloves and masks.

Etta stood slowly, wincing as her legs protested. She grabbed a small first-aid kit and shoved it into her hoodie’s front pocket. Next, she found a pair of scissors, their blades sharp and cold in her hand. It was the closest thing to a weapon she seen thus far... Better than nothing. She opened a few more boxes, finding a roll of gauze and some alcohol wipes. She pocketed those too, her movements automatic, mechanical. Her mind was racing, but her hands worked on their own, searching, gathering. Not knowing what she would need if she decided to venture out of that room.

Then she heard it. Not the wet shuffle of the undead, nor the mindless growling she’d grown used to. This was… different. Footsteps. Slow, deliberate. The soft scuff of shoes against linoleum. They moved with purpose, with thought intact. She first thought of her father coming for her, that he had somehow escaped his fate in the parking lot. However, the sick pit settling in her stomach told her otherwise.

Turning off her lantern, she plunged the closet into darkness once again. Wasting no time, she pressed herself against the wall by the door, gripping those scissors tightly. The cold metal digging into her palm, grounding her grip.

The footsteps grew louder. Closer.

She held her breath. The doorknob rattled.

Etta clenched her jaw, muscles tensing. Please. Please don’t open it.

She heard the faint mumbling of a woman's voice, but before she could make out the words a loud bang against the door startled her. Etta almost dropped the scissors and screamed. She managed to cover her mouth and slide further along the wall as the intruder forced their way in. The door caved, swinging open and breaking pieces of the frame where the lock had been.

She lunged...screaming.

Swinging the scissors wildly, the blade caught the edge of someone's jacket, slicing through the fabric...if not deeper. A voice yelped in surprise. Etta stumbled forward, nearly falling. Moments later she found herself face to face with the double barrel of a shotgun.

"Aiden!" A womans voice screamed, knocking the shotgun out of her path just as it discharged. Missing Etta and blasting the bottles from the shelf behind her.

Etta scrambled back, scissors raised, chest heaving. Two figures stood in the doorway, silhouetted against the dim light of the hospital. One was a man, tall and broad-shouldered, dark skinned, wearing a dark jacket and a baseball cap. The other was a woman, lean and sharp-eyed, her short wavy hair pulled back loosely. "What the hell is wrong with you?!" She scolded the man.

"I thought she was one of them!" he proclaimed.

"With a pair of scissors!" She smacked his gun away from their direction. "But that damn thing away. You scaring this baby!"

The man threw his hand up in surrender as the woman took charge of the situation. She looked at Etta with kind, pleading eyes. Her hand reaching for her in friendship. "It's okay sweetheart, we are not going to hurt you. My brother is just stupid."

Etta's head hurt, still processing the gunshot and all that had happened beforehand. “Relax, kid,” The man spoke up. “We’re not infected, we're just looking for our people."

Etta blinked, her breath coming in ragged gasps. “You’re… you’re not—”

He eyed the scissors in her trembling hands. “Mind putting that down?” Etta hesitated, then slowly lowered the weapon, her arms trembling with exhaustion.

"I'm Charlie. Charlotte, but Charlie." The woman introduced herself. "The dumbass behind me is Aiden. What's your name honey?"

“Etta.” Her voice was barely a whisper. She swallowed hard, trying not to cry. "I came here with my dad to pick up my mom but...there was just too many of them. He fell...and I can't find my mom."

Aiden's jaw tightened as he grew impatient. Constantly he looked down the halls with the shotgun ready. "It's not safe in here, we need to leave. Now!"

"I am not leaving her by herself!" Charlie whispered harshly. She stepped forward, offering her hand to Etta. "I'm looking for my husband who was supposed to meet us at a safety camp. We were evacuated...Maybe your momma is there as well."

Etta hesitated, staring at the outstretched hand. The hospital was a nightmare, every corner a new terror. Alone, she wouldn’t last long. She took Charlie's hand.

Aiden stepped into the hallway, glancing around. “Stay close and stay quiet.”

Etta gripped her scissors tightly, falling into step between them. As they moved into the shadows, for the first time in what felt like forever she didn’t feel completely alone.

Aiden took the lead, moving quietly with confidence. Charlie armed herself with a crowbar in one hand and Etta's frail fingers in the other, keeping the girl close to her hip. Etta kept her eyes darting from shadow to shadow, every dark corner became a potential ambush. They reached the main hallway. The glass doors leading to the parking lot stood shattered, moonlight spilling in across the dirty linoleum floor. The hospital lobby looked even worse now, bodies slumped against the walls, dark stains smeared across the tiles. It went from a place of healing to a scene in a horror movie.

"Almost there," Aiden whispered. "Stay close."

They crept toward the exit, the night air cold against Etta’s clammy skin. The parking lot stretched out before them — a graveyard of abandoned vehicles. Some cars had their doors flung open, lights still flickering weakly. Others were overturned; windows shattered from ramming into others desperate for some kind of salvation.

Then came the sound. A low, guttural moan. Etta whimpered, Charlie responded quickly by wrapping her arm around the young girl. "Shh, baby. We gotta be quiet."

Etta turned, eyes widening. From the shadows, figures began to emerge — three, no, four of them, their movements jerky and uncoordinated. The undead stumbled forward, drawn to the faint noise of their footsteps.

“Shit,” Aiden muttered. "Here we go!"

Charlie raised her crowbar. “Stay behind me.”

The first one lunged. Charlie swung hard, the crowbar connecting with a sickening crunch. The creature collapsed, twitching, before going still. Another staggered toward Aiden up ahead. He stepped to the side, shooting the once human in the face. Now it was time to pick up the pace. A third lunged for Etta. She stumbled backward, raising the scissors, but before she could strike, Charlie's crowbar swung down, crushing its skull wide open.

“Come on!” Charlie shouted. “We’ve got to move!”

They sprinted through the lot, weaving between cars. The undead weren’t far behind, their hungry moans echoing through the night.

“There!” Charlie pointed to an old pickup truck parked near the edge of the lot. It was rusty and beaten up, but intact. "There's our ole joe!"

Etta shook her head in disbelief, lacking confidence in Ole'Joe as the chosen vehicle of choice for escape. Aiden yanked the driver’s side door open and slid inside, fumbling beneath the steering column. Charlie pushed Etta in the middle before hopping in the passenger side.

“Keys?” Charlie asked. "Now would be nice!"

“I'm gettin them!” Aiden cursed, fumbling in his pockets he pulled out the shining keychain full of keys. Etta looked at all the shapes and sizes as he fitted the one for the truck inside the ignition. A blue dyed rabbits foot dangled off the edge. The truck stalled. "Come on! Not today!"

Etta glanced behind them. More figures shuffled into the parking lot, their moans growing louder. “They’re coming!”

Aiden growled, turning the key over once more. The engine sputtered… but didn’t start. "It's dead."

“Push start?” Charlie suggested.

“Push start.”

"What!" Etta screamed, pulling at her hair.

They scrambled out of the truck. Charlie and Aiden went to the back, bracing against the tailgate. Etta climbed into the driver’s seat, gripping the steering wheel tight. Not knowing what she was supposed to do next.

“Okay, Etta!” Aiden called. “When we say go, pop the clutch and hit the gas!”

She nodded, though she had no idea what that meant.

“Ready?” Charlie shouted. “Push!”

The truck lurched forward. Etta’s hands shook as she turned the key, feet fumbling with the pedals. The truck rolled faster.

“Now!” Aiden yelled.

Etta turned the key and slammed her foot on the gas. The engine roared to life, coughing and sputtering before settling into a low growl. The siblings sprinted for the doors, throwing themselves inside as Etta floored it, scooting over just in time for Aiden to take the wheel. The undead swarmed behind them, their growls fading into the night as the truck sped down the road.

Etta’s hands were white knuckled on the dashboard, eyes fixed ahead. The night stretched endlessly before them, dark and unfamiliar. Her breath slowed, heart still racing, but at least now they were moving fast and away from that dreadful hospital.

She glanced at Charlie and Aiden, who sat silently, staring out the windows. No one spoke. The road stretched on and on, empty and quiet. Something inside of her saddened, she came there to be joined by her parents...only to leave with strangers. Etta exhaled slowly. She didn’t know where they were going. She didn’t know what lay ahead. Too tired to cry, too scared to sleep, she just stared out the window in a haze.

Then she saw it.

A green road sign, its paint chipped and worn:

“You Are Now Leaving Kansas.”