"It’s the only way out," I said, voice low but firm.

"We have girls with us," Sinn replied, the old reflex of a man trained in a world that still made that distinction.

"Sooner or later they find a way through that door," I answered. "And when one gets in—"

I let the sentence die. The wet sounds rising from outside finished it for me.

"Survey it first," he conceded.

I moved to the wall where Code waited.

Code climbed like the wall belonged to him. Fingers hooked cleanly into each hold, boots finding the chipped sockets with perfect precision. No wasted motion. His body flowed upward in steady, powerful pulls, shoulders rolling, back muscles flexing under his shirt, long hair swaying with each reach. He crested the top and rose to his feet on the thick concrete ledge, wind immediately whipping his hair across his face. He stood tall, arms slightly out, eyes closed, breathing deep like a man tasting real air for the first time in years.

I glanced at Sherry. She met my eyes with everything she wasn’t saying, tight jaw, slight nod, electricity still flickering faintly across her knuckles.

I shoved my fingers into the first cold metal hold and started up.

The wall was taller than it looked from the floor. Each grip demanded full commitment. Fingers burned as they locked tight. Boots scraped and wedged into sockets worn smooth by decades of weather. Concrete dust sifted down into my eyes and mouth. My arms trembled by the time my hands slapped the top edge. I hauled myself up, chest scraping over the rough lip, legs kicking once before I rolled onto the flat meter-thick concrete.

The wind hit like a living thing, strong, steady, rushing across the open plain and slamming into me. It tugged at my clothes and stung my sweat-damp skin.

I lay flat on my stomach for a second, heart hammering, then pushed up to my knees. The city spread out below in brutal moonlight: broken rooftops, shattered streets, and five lone infected still shambling toward the building, drawn like iron to a magnet. Far in the distance, two tiny pinpricks of light moved steadily away across the dark plain.

Owen.

Code stood a few meters away, arms spread wide now, head tilted back, hair swirling violently in the wind. His chest rose and fell in deep, hungry breaths, eyes still closed, face almost peaceful.

I got my feet under me, steadied against the gusts, and walked carefully along the thick wall, boots scraping grit. I passed Code and rounded the corner.

The infected had become a nightmare on the entry side. Dozens upon dozens swarmed the base of the building, climbing over each other in a writhing, desperate pile. Shoulders slammed, fingers clawed for purchase, bodies crushing together in a single mindless mass answering the same signal. The pressure against the walls and door grew visibly, relentlessly. They didn’t tire. They only added more weight.

Not much time.

I turned and walked back, passing Code again, he still hadn’t opened his eyes. Rounded the opposite corner.

Clear.

No infected below on this side. The ground was empty concrete and weeds, bathed in cold moonlight. Every single one of them had funneled inside after the signal.

Then I saw it: an old metallic ladder bolted to the wall, narrow and rusted, dropping from the edge of our roof-wall down to a wide balcony on the second floor of the adjacent structure. Thin, weathered, but intact.

There.

I dropped back to my stomach, swung my legs over the edge, and started descending. Boots found the first rung with a metallic clink. Fingers gripped tight as I lowered myself down the holds, wind still howling past my ears, the distant moans of the horde vibrating through the concrete like a promise.

Everyone converged the second my boots hit the floor. Boots scraped concrete in a tight semicircle around me, bodies still buzzing from the climb down. Dust drifted in the moonlight shaft pouring through the open roof.

"The infected are all inside," I said, breathing hard, chest still heaving. "Other side of the wall is clear. There’s a narrow metal ladder from the top that drops to a balcony on the adjacent building."

"Is it safe?" Sinn asked, rifle barrel tapping once against his thigh.

"No," I answered. "But it’s what we have."

"That’s very risky," he pressed, eyes flicking upward. "One mistake up there and somebody dies."

"I’m fine with climbing," May said immediately. Her gaze met mine for a split second, sharp, steady, before sliding away.

"Same," Sherry added.

"Me too," Harmione said.

Sinn stared at the wall for three long heartbeats, jaw working. Then he turned to Mercury.

"Mercury. Are you okay with this?"

She didn’t answer right away. Her fingers tightened around the metal rod until her knuckles blanched. Something shifted behind her eyes, fear flickering raw before she forced it down.

"I’ve decided something," Sinn said into her silence, voice rough. "I’m not leaving anyone behind. If Mercury isn’t comfortable then we find another alterna—"

"I’m okay with it," Mercury cut in. Her nod was short, decisive. The kind that sealed a decision she couldn’t take back.

Sinn pulled me aside a few steps, voice dropping to a gravelly whisper that stayed between us.

"I’m afraid of heights," he admitted.

I looked at him. General Sinn, the man who had sat in the dirt counting his dead men, who had drawn on Owen without flinching, who had walked into this nightmare city at night like it owed him something. His shoulders were tight, breath controlled but shallow. 𝙛𝓻𝒆𝒆𝒘𝙚𝓫𝙣𝙤𝒗𝙚𝓵.𝙘𝙤𝙢

"This is a desperate measure," I said, matching his low tone. "And it’s the only way. We’re all going to make it. I promise."

He held my stare another beat, then straightened, rolling his shoulders once like he was shrugging off weight.

"All right," he announced louder, turning back to the group. "We go."

We gathered close again. Moonlight painted every face in cold silver.

"Sherry and I take the lead," I said, eyes tracing the holds climbing the wall. "May and Harmione after. Then Mercury. General comes last."

No one argued. Just tight nods, clenched jaws, and the faint shuffle of boots adjusting stance.

The bolted metal door behind us vibrated hard, once, then again. A deep, metallic groan rolled through the room as the infected found the pressure point. The vibration traveled up through the floor into our legs. Time was bleeding out fast.