The set went loud as Dayo started barking orders here and there, giving direction on what to do.
"Positions!"
"Reset the barricade!"
"Extras, stay sharp!"
Dayo's voice cut through the set like a blade. He moved with purpose, clipboard tucked under his arm, eyes constantly scanning. One hand pointed, the other adjusted. Do this. Do that. Again. Faster.
He gave the order, and the whole set came to life like a well-oiled machine.
Deborah and Janet stood close together near the monitors, eyes wide.
"So this is how it really is," Deborah whispered.
Janet nodded slowly, watching as actors stumbled out of a train carriage built entirely on set. The illusion was convincing metal walls, flickering lights, fog drifting low across the floor. The actors screamed, ran, stumbled again.
"Cut!"
Everything stopped.
The zombies froze mid-snarl.
Crew members rushed in. Makeup touched up. Sweat wiped. Blood reapplied.
