The group parked close to the hospital, got out of the truck, and approached the entrance with caution. Once the coast was clear—surprisingly devoid of many zombies—the group agreed to split up to speed up the search. Most of them stuck to the first floor and lobby, but Ryan wanted to explore the hallway. While the others went to find medical goods, he had other ideas in mind.

  Out of all the rooms in the hallway, one particular door came to Ryan’s attention immediately. He stared at the window and the number plate, then pressed his ear against the other side of the door. No sound came from the other side, no groans, or even a human whisper. Despite this, Ryan clutched his chest, trying to calm his beating heart.

  It had to be the one; he was sure of it. He memorized each room and knew them by heart, despite coming here only one other time (or two; he wasn’t sure if the hospital he was in the last time was the same one). Ryan remembered it clearly. This had to be the room Carl stayed in. Whether he liked it or not, that memory still lingered in his mind and would not leave him. That was the last time he had seen and spoken to him before going their separate ways, before everything went downhill. That was the start of his life spiraling out of control all around him, and with each passing day after that, it only got worse.

  More doubts and worries hit him all at once. What if Carl had caught something worse than just coughing up blood? That couldn’t have been normal in hindsight. What if the zombie situation had started earlier, and he didn’t realize it until it was too late? Could it have happened long before Carl got sick? Or did it happen to him because of that?

  No, Ryan shook his head. What’s done is done. He can’t change that. But, he figured, maybe, just maybe, there was a chance he didn’t turn. The doctors could’ve relocated him somewhere safe, or maybe Carl was hiding, scared to draw attention to himself. Whatever the case, if there were a chance he could be saved, Ryan would take it. He had to know.

  Ryan gripped his shaking fists and breathed in and out, slowly releasing the fingers from his fist. He still stood in front of the door; time continued to pass. It felt like hours when it had only been minutes. Still, though, it was now or never. He didn’t have time to think about this for too long.

  He slowly reached over to the door, hoping to give out a light knock. The instant his fingers touched the door, it slowly creaked open, prompting him to jump back. Ryan held back from screaming, not wanting to attract his friends or zombies from checking the source of the sound. He peered at the black hole in front of him. There was no sign of light in there. Still, he didn’t want to lose hope. Ryan took another pause before stepping inside.

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  As expected, the room was unbelievably dark. His eyes and ears didn’t play tricks on him. Aside from the clock ticking in the room, nothing else made so much as a peep. A shiver went down the back of his spine, but he still kept going, regardless. Waiting for his eyes to adjust, Ryan reached over to feel the wall, searching for a light switch. His eyes finally adjusted as his fingers touched the tip of the switch. He flicked them on, then shielded his eyes from the sudden bright light that appeared. When he opened his eyes, the color drained from his face.

  It was completely empty, with nobody in sight. The vase fell from the windowsill and hit the ground, as pieces of glass scattered across the floor. Someone messily handled the sheets and left them hanging on the side of the empty bed.

  Ryan was utterly bewildered, his mind a jumble of unanswerable questions. He wandered the room in silence, heedless of the glass shards crunching beneath his feet. The dresser, a testament to past struggles, was a mere blur as he stepped over the puddle of water and wilted flowers. His hand trembled as it touched the bed, a physical manifestation of his inner turmoil. Why was this happening to him? How long had he been away? Who was he even asking these questions to?

  He turned to the open window, the torn curtains flowing in the wind. Ryan stared at the horizon, struggling to swallow the lump in his throat. He couldn’t believe it, even though it was right in front of him. Tears welled up in his eyes as he struggled to breathe. With his hands shaking, Ryan went over to close the windows before him. He let out another sigh as the tears rolled down his cheeks.

  “Ryan?” a voice called out to him.

  “Ah!” Ryan flinched, brought down to reality. He wiped his eyes and jerked around to find Yuna standing at the entrance of the room.

  “Are you alright over there?”

  “Huh? Oh, yeah, I’m fine.” He lied, forcing a smile. “I was just exploring, that’s all.”

  Yuna placed her hands on her hips, not convinced. “So, are you crying because you’re reminiscing or...?”

  Ryan sighed. There was no getting out of that. He didn’t like the idea of lying and suppressing his emotions either.

  “Well, to tell you the truth, I...”

  “Hey, did you guys find anything?” Mike’s voice interrupted him.

  Yuna jumped away and covered her mouth. Then glared at him, stomping her foot.

  “Can you not sneak up on us?”

  “Sorry about that,” Mike said with a shrug. “Anyway, we found a med kit. Taylor’s holding it right now.” He walked past her and looked around the room. “We’ll probably stay a little longer to check a few more places before heading out for the day.” He approached the dresser and pulled out the drawers.

  “Are you kidding me?” Yuna threw her arms up and groaned. “Can you not read the room?”

  Mike pulled out a roll of bandages and turned to look at her. “Not really. Am I missing something here?”

  Yuna turned to Ryan, who kept staring at the window, before sighing. “Nevermind...”