At last, night fell like a shroud of death over the school.The infirmary, once a symbol of relief, had become their last bastion against the end of the world. Beyond those walls, chaos walked with dragging feet and putrid gasps. But Osamu wasn't willing to die in there.
"Alright, girls… it's time," he announced in a low but firm voice, tightening the knot of the rope around a steel support that used to hold up an overturned stretcher. Sweat beaded on his forehead—not from physical strain, but from the certainty that one single mistake meant a slow and brutal death.
Itsuki trembled slightly. In her eyes was something more than fear: it was pure, raw, animal panic.
"I'm scared…" she admitted in a whisper barely louder than the wind slipping through the cracks.
"I know," Osamu replied without looking at her. "It would be stupid not to be. But if we don't do this, we're dead anyway. And I'm not going to rot here waiting for my turn."
His words sliced through the silence like blades. The other girls watched him, and in their eyes a spark began to ignite: a mixture of hope and despair—the kind of feeling that's born only when an abyss opens before you… and someone dares to cross it.
"From now on, no loud voices. If you can avoid talking, even better. Those bastards can hear even the smallest sigh," he added in a grim, almost somber tone.
Osamu had spent years wandering the hallways, skipping classes, snooping where no one else did. What had once been aimless rebellion had now become his greatest advantage. He knew that school better than anyone. He knew where the floor creaked, which doors squeaked, and which paths remained hidden even from the teachers.
"From here to the parking lot where the minivan is… it's about 300 meters. The good news..." he said, cautiously peeking through the window, "...is that there's not a single undead directly below us. And the path we'll take runs along the edge of the school. It's a forgotten area, rarely used. With luck, it'll be clear."
The silence in the room was thick, dense like blood. Every word from his mouth was absorbed by the girls' full attention. That plan, simple yet risky, was their only chance. To live or to die hung from the same thread—or better said, from a rope tied to a rusted support.
With one last look outside, Osamu took a deep breath. The air smelled of dampness, rust… and death.
"I'll go first. Watch closely, and do exactly as I do," he ordered. Then he turned to the window and began to lower himself with surprising skill, sliding his feet along the window frame as if he'd done it a hundred times before.
He held an improvised spear between his teeth, made from a mop handle and several sharpened scalpels taped together with medical tape. It wasn't pretty, not even reliable… but the metallic glint of the blades was enough to pierce a skull if used with strength and precision.
He descended in silence, like a shadow defying the night itself, knowing that every inch down the rope could be his last. The weight of darkness wrapped the school like a shroud, and the silence was so deep you could hear the rope whispering against the window edges.
Osamu landed without a sound. His feet touched the ground as if part of the landscape, blending into the shadows. He immediately crouched, alert, inspecting every corner of the area that had seemed clear from above. He knew a high view could lie, and one wrong step could ruin everything. But no… the place was clean. At least for now.
He raised a hand, signaling quickly and precisely to the window. It was the girls' turn.
The first to move was Yotsuba. Her agile body descended naturally, as if adrenaline gave her wings. Her breathing was controlled, steady—used to physical exertion. She had always been athletic, and in that moment, it was her lifeline.
Then came Miku, Yotsuba's opposite. Her grip was clumsier, her movements slower, but her determination was palpable. Every meter she descended was a small victory over fear. She took her time, but made it safely.
One by one they descended: Nino, with firm movements; Itsuki, trembling but resolute; Shizuka, the nurse, whose heart seemed to pound in her throat but who didn't let it stop her.
Only one remained: Ichika.
From the window's edge, she watched her sisters descend. When the last of them touched the ground, she let out a long sigh. It wasn't so much the age gap that made her the eldest, but the way she took on responsibility—the calm with which she bore the weight of decisions.
"I'm glad they all made it down safely…" she murmured, more to herself than anyone else.
Then she turned to her part of the mission. Beside her was a length of rope carefully tied to a large glass bottle. Inside, a clear liquid: ethyl alcohol. An improvised trap—dangerous and precise. Osamu had explained it quickly, but with the clarity of someone reciting a life-or-death formula.
"Alright, according to Osamu-kun… I just need to light this and get out fast."
She struck a match with a firm hand, and the rope ignited with a dry crack. The flame danced like a hungry snake, slowly creeping down the rope, turning it into a fuse that marked the beginning of a countdown.
Ichika didn't wait to see the end. She grabbed the rope, breathing hard, heart pounding in her chest like a war drum. She descended quickly, driven by fear, adrenaline, and love for her sisters.
When her feet touched the ground, she looked up for an instant… and right then, the flame vanished into the window frame, heading toward the hell they'd left behind.
"Alright, we're all here. Follow me… and stay completely silent. Watch your steps," Osamu ordered in a low but firm voice.
His steps led them into an area where trees rose like silent specters. That part of the school had once been a garden—a place full of life and color. But now, after years of neglect, it was just a forgotten corner, covered in weeds, dry branches, and thick shadows. A place where time seemed to have stopped… or rotted.
Osamu moved cautiously but steadily, and the girls followed, holding their breath every time a branch cracked underfoot. There was no room for hesitation. They knew that within minutes, the building they had just left would become a fiery hell.
The silence was absolute. Not even the buzz of night insects could be heard. Only their muffled steps on damp soil and the occasional crunch of dry leaves. After several minutes of careful walking, they stopped among the trees. From there, they had a clear view of the rear wing of the school building. The window they'd escaped from still faintly reflected the moonlight.
Osamu looked at his watch. Just a few seconds left.
"Don't move… get down. Now," he whispered, tension crackling in his voice.
The girls dropped into the underbrush just in time.
BOOOOOOM!
A brutal explosion tore through the night. The blast lit up the trees with infernal light for a moment, casting twisted shadows everywhere. A thunderous roar shattered the silence like a bolt in a graveyard. The girls covered their ears, trembling, as a cloud of fire and smoke rose in the distance.
And then, the inevitable happened.
The echo of the explosion was followed by a sound even more horrifying: the horde's roar. Dozens—maybe hundreds—of undead emerged from the darkest corners, as if awakened from hell itself. They ran wildly toward the epicenter of the chaos, growling, screeching, clawing the air with deformed hands. A nightmare stampede.
Luckily, none of them were close… for now.
Osamu watched in silence. His face showed no fear, but absolute focus. He knew they couldn't move yet—not while the infected were alert. Even the smallest crack could spell their doom. Just one of them noticing, and it would all be over.
The group stayed motionless, crouched among shadows and branches, breathing as slowly as possible—as if even breath could betray them.
Osamu watched the zombies for several seconds. They were far away, completely distracted.
"Step one: distraction complete."
The horde's roar faded, devouring the calm with its savagery. But they remained hidden, untouched, invisible.
The girls looked at each other, still shaking from the tension, but they understood—they had overcome the first barrier. They were one step closer to freedom.
At last, after hours trapped in that hell, the plan was starting to work.
And for the first time in a long time… there was hope.