Meilan woke slowly as warmth surrounded her on all sides.

She was pressed against Shen Kaiyang’s chest, his arm draped across her waist, as Ling Cheng’s body shifted closer to her back. The bed was soft and the blankets were heavy and she felt safe in a way she hadn’t felt in weeks.

She hated living in the safe haven. She hated living around poor people who couldn’t even afford a decent bed. She hated the smell.

As if sensing her distress, Shen Kaiyang’s hand started to glide over her hip, offering her comfort when she needed it.

Her eyes stayed closed, her breathing even, her body relaxed into the heat and comfort of being held.

Then she heard it.

Moaning.

Low and constant.

Coming from outside.

Not one voice. Not ten. Hundreds. The sound pressed against the walls like they were going to tear them down, like pressure building and building with no release.

The sound of movement followed—shuffling, scraping, the sound of bodies dragging across pavement and dirt and wood. The house creaked slightly under the noise, the foundation settling as if something heavy was leaning against it from all sides.

Meilan froze.

Her eyes snapped open but she didn’t move, didn’t shift, didn’t breathe louder than necessary. Her heartbeat spiked hard and fast, pounding in her chest and throat and ears.

The warmth turned wrong. Too close. Too tight.

She pulled free carefully, sliding out from under the arm across her waist and shifting away from the chest she’d been pressed against.

The men didn’t wake, simply rolled over, still tired from the night before.

She stood beside the bed, her bare feet cold against the floor, her hands shaking slightly as she reached for the window. The curtains were drawn but light came through the edges, dim and gray like early morning or late evening. She pulled the fabric aside just enough to see out.

There was too many bodies to count.

Zombies. Everywhere. As far as she could see in every direction.

They filled the front yard, the driveway, the street beyond. They pressed against the fence and the gate and the porch, climbing over each other in layers, their movements slow but relentless.

Birds circled overhead in tight spirals, their wings ragged and torn. Cats moved through the gaps between bodies, low and fast. Snakes slithered across the pavement in waves, their scales catching the light.

There was no gaps, no space, and no way through.

Just like how she died in her past life.

Torn apart by zombies.

Her breath caught in her throat and her chest tightened. Her lungs refused to expand fully no matter how hard she tried to pull air in. Her hands gripped the curtain edge, her knuckles white, her nails digging into the fabric hard enough to leave marks.

This is not survivable.

The house wouldn’t hold.

"I am not dying here," she whispered to herself even as she let the curtain drop from the window.

Her heartbeat spiked again, faster now, her pulse hammering so hard it made her vision blur at the edges. Her thoughts didn’t line up. Too many things at once. Too fast.

She needed to get out.

She turned away from the window and moved fast.

She grabbed her jacket from the chair, pulling it on without checking the pockets. She found her boots near the door and shoved her feet into them, not bothering with the laces.

She looked around the room for anything small enough to carry—a water bottle on the nightstand, a protein bar in her jacket pocket from days ago, a small flashlight she’d taken from the kitchen. Nothing bulky. Nothing that would slow her down.

Then she saw the gun.

It was lying on the dresser near the bed, within arm’s reach of one Huang Zedong. She crossed the room in three steps, her hand closing around the grip before she could think about it. The metal was cold and heavy and solid.

Of course it was loaded. It should be.

She checked the magazine quickly—half full, maybe six rounds—and shoved it into her waistband without hesitation.

She didn’t ask. Didn’t explain. Didn’t leave a note.

She just took it and moved toward the door.

The hallway was empty and quiet, the sounds from outside muffled by the walls but still present, still pressing.

She moved fast, her boots silent on the carpet, her breathing tight but controlled. She didn’t check the other rooms. Didn’t look for anyone else. Didn’t stop to warn the people downstairs or the soldiers on the porch or the men still sleeping in the bed behind her.

She just moved.

The stairs were clear. The living room was empty. She could hear voices from the front of the house—shouting, chaos, the sounds of everything breaking at once—but she didn’t go that way.

She went toward the back, toward the kitchen, toward the door that led to the yard and the fence and the trees beyond.

She stopped at the kitchen window and looked out.

Zombies filled the backyard too, but fewer than the front. The fence was still standing. The gate was closed. There was a gap near the left corner where the bodies were thinner, where the pressure wasn’t as concentrated.

It wasn’t much.

But it was enough.

She waited for her moment. Her hand rested on the gun at her waist, her fingers curling around the grip. The zombies shifted slowly, their attention pulled toward the noise at the front of the house. The gap widened slightly.

Now.

She pulled the back door open and slipped through, closing it quietly behind her. The cold air hit her face immediately, sharp and biting. The moaning was louder out here, surrounding her from all sides.

She didn’t look at them.

She just moved.

Toward the gap. Toward the fence.

Behind her, the door opened again. Footsteps followed. Voices called her name—her men, chasing after her, their tones urgent and confused.

She didn’t stop.

Didn’t turn.

Didn’t slow down.

They were yelling loud enough to cause the zombie’s attention to turn to her. She growled in frustration but didn’t stop, didn’t so much as slow down.

Tao Jun stumbled, but she didn’t look back.

It wasn’t her problem.

Whether he lived or died was all on him.

She reached the fence and climbed, her hands gripping the wood, her boots finding purchase on the crossbeams. She pulled herself over the top and dropped to the other side, landing hard but staying upright.

The trees were ahead. The road was beyond that.

She didn’t care where she was going.

She just ran, never once looking back.