down."
Fiona: "Who's the girl?" (whispers back, intrigued)
Ruby: "No one knows."
Roy: Instead of talking about that bastard, we should focus on escaping while there are fewer zombies around. (Silence follows, but everyone agrees as they have no choice.)
Ruby: Let's grab all the essentials. (Her voice is low, lacking its usual excitement.)
(Fiona is still deep in thought, recalling her conversation with Joy the night before.)
Fiona (thinking): This is a misunderstanding. He wouldn't do that.
19 Century: How many knives should we take?
Roy: Take whatever you need. (Still angry.)
---
(Scene shifts to Joy, who slowly opens his eyes, wincing in pain. He sits up and realizes he is in a small 4×4 room. Holding his head, he groans.)
Joy: Ugh, it still hurts... (Pause as he regains consciousness.) Where am I? (He slowly stands and clutches the metal bars of his cell, shouting.)
Joy: Where am I?!
Woman (from another cell): Hey, stop shouting!
Joy: Oh, ma'am, can you tell me where we are?
Woman: This is a checkup camp. After this, they'll transfer us to the evacuation camp.
Joy: Why are we even here?
Man 1 (from a different cell): They're checking if we're infected or not. Just cooperate.
Joy: I need to go back! My friends… my friends are still out there! (Fearful)
Woman: Are you out of your mind? Everyone is dying outside. Be thankful you're safe. (Blunt, with an attitude)
Man: She's right. If you step out, you'll die. Your chances of survival are less than 1%.
Joy: But— (The woman cuts him off.)
Woman: In times like these, we should be selfish.
(Joy's face falls, his eyes filled with regret and helplessness. He kneels down, deep in thought, planning an escape.)
( meanwhile Fiona, Ruby, 19 Century, and Roy move cautiously down a deserted road, bags half-filled with supplies. The air is heavy with tension, their footsteps the only sound.)
19 Century (whispers, nervous): Why aren't we running?
Roy (calm but firm): If we run now, we'll be too exhausted to fight or escape later. We save our energy.
19 Century (whispers, impressed): Oh… that makes sense.
Fiona (stopping suddenly, pointing): Look—there's a store.
Roy (glancing at it, lowering his voice): So?
Fiona: We could find first aid supplies, food—things we actually need.
Ruby (determined): It's worth checking. If there are too many zombies, we back off.
Roy (exhales, deciding): Fine. But no one goes upstairs. Got it?
(Everyone nods. They quietly approach the store, but as they near, they notice a single zombie repeatedly banging its head against a wall—flesh peeling from the impact.)
19 Century (shaken): W-what's wrong with him?
Ruby (grinning, whispering): Probably broke up with his zombie girlfriend.
Roy (serious, whispering): Stay quiet. If we don't make a sound, he won't notice us. Move slowly.
(They carefully step forward, hearts pounding. But then—)
Crack.
(A dry leaf crumbles under 19 Century's foot. The sound is deafening in the silence. The zombie stops. Turns its head. Then—)
Zombie (growling, eyes locking onto them): …GRAAHHH!
Roy (eyes widening): Oh, hell no—RUN!
(The group sprints toward the store. More zombies emerge from alleyways, their guttural snarls echoing. They barely make it inside, slamming the glass door shut. Roy jams a metal rod through the handles, while the others shove empty shelves and boards against the entrance.)
Roy (panting): Please, please let there be another way out—