The overhead LED lights cast a soft white glow over the dining table, illuminating the weary faces of the family. The air inside the bungalow was thick with exhaustion and grief, but Martha had done her best to lift their spirits.

A large plate of golden, crispy fried chicken sat at the center of the table, its savory aroma mingling with the familiar fizz of Coca-Cola being poured into glasses. Despite everything, Martha had insisted on cooking something special—one last reminder of normalcy before the world outside swallowed them whole.

Ric sat at the head of the table, staring at his plate. Across from him, Cat nudged Sam and Teo to eat. The kids took slow bites, their movements sluggish, the weight of the past days pressing down on them.

The two empty seats near the far end of the table—the ones that once belonged to Emil and Lourdes—were a silent wound, a reminder of how much they had lost in such a short time.

No one spoke much as they ate. The occasional clatter of utensils against plates and the quiet sip of drinks were the only sounds, aside from the distant groans of the infected outside the compound walls.

Then, without warning, the LED lights flickered twice—then shut off completely.

Darkness swallowed the room.

Sam gasped, followed by the sharp scrape of a chair against the floor as Teo jumped slightly.

Martha exhaled sharply, reaching for Lola Suelo's hand. Cat's grip tightened around Ric's arm.

The sudden loss of power felt like a final, cruel confirmation. The world outside had collapsed completely.

Cesar was the first to break the silence. "That's it," he muttered. "The power grid is gone."

Martha, ever the hopeful one, whispered, "Maybe it's just temporary?"

Cesar shook his head. "No. This was inevitable. Power plants, substations, all of them needed people to keep running. If no one's left to manage them, they'll shut down. We were lucky to have electricity this long."

The gravity of his words settled over them like a thick fog.

Ric grabbed a flashlight from the shelf and clicked it on. The beam cut through the darkness, illuminating their uneasy faces.

"How long do you think the water will last?" Cat asked, her voice quiet.

"A few more days, maybe a week," Ric answered. "Depends on how soon the main supply dries up. We need to start rationing."

Cesar folded his arms. "We should've expected this. From now on, we rely on what we have—no more luxuries. Every resource counts."

Nobody argued. They all knew he was right.

Martha sighed, pushing back her chair. "I'll store the leftovers properly. We can't afford to waste anything."

The family slowly dispersed, each retreating into their own rooms and thoughts, weighed down by the reality of their new existence.

* * *

The main bungalow at the back of the lot had become the family's shelter for the night. Sleeping together under the same roof should be the wisest thing to do now. The structure was sturdy, but Ric knew that walls alone wouldn't keep them safe forever.

He sat by the window, his Glock 19 resting on his lap, eyes scanning the darkness outside. The moon cast pale light over the compound, its silver glow revealing the barbed wire Cesar had started installing along the fence earlier that day. It wasn't enough.

Cesar joined him a few moments later, settling into the chair beside him. He let out a slow breath, the lines on his face deeper than usual.

"You were supposed to wake me," Cesar said, his voice low.

Ric shook his head. "I couldn't sleep."

Cesar studied him for a moment before nodding. He leaned back, staring at the sky. "Long night ahead."

Ric exhaled sharply. "Yeah."

Silence stretched between them, filled only by the occasional distant groan of the infected beyond the compound walls.

Finally, Ric spoke. "We need to be realistic about this place. We're vulnerable."

Cesar's expression remained unreadable. "And where do you think we'll be safer?"

Ric hesitated. That was the problem—he didn't have an answer.

Cesar continued, his voice steady. "This compound is what we have. We know it, we can control it. Out there? It's chaos. No walls, no shelter, no certainty."

"We also don't have enough supplies to last forever," Ric countered. "And if the infected overrun this place, we'll have no escape route."

Cesar let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. "You think like a soldier. Always planning the next move. Always looking ahead." He paused. "But sometimes, holding your ground is the only choice."

Ric looked at his father. For all their disagreements, he respected the man. Cesar had seen war. He had survived things Ric could only imagine.

Maybe he was right.

But deep down, Ric couldn't shake the feeling that it was only a matter of time before something—or someone—tested their resolve.

And when that time came, he didn't know if he would be ready.

* * *

The first rays of sunlight filtered through the windows of the main bungalow, casting shadows over the quiet household. The air was still, but there was a heaviness that settled over the family—a weight that even the morning could not lift.

Despite the gloom that clung to them, Martha was already in the kitchen, moving with quiet efficiency. The smell of garlic and sizzling oil filled the air, bringing a brief sense of normalcy. She had managed to prepare a hearty meal of fried rice, eggs, and the last of the tocino from their supply.

Seated around the dining table, the family ate in relative silence. The clatter of utensils against plates was the only sound for a while.

"This might be the last warm breakfast we have in a long time," Martha said, her voice calm but firm. She wasn't just saying it as a warning—she was making sure they savored it.

Ric took a sip of his coffee, his eyes scanning the room. Everyone looked drained. Cat nudged Sam and Teo to eat more, while Lola Suelo, seated in her wheelchair, slowly nibbled on a small portion.

Cesar, as usual, wasted no time on unnecessary words. "After this, we fortify the compound."

No one objected.

After what happened with Emil and Lourdes, there was no doubt in anyone's mind that they needed to strengthen their defenses.

* * *

As soon as breakfast was over, the family divided the tasks among themselves.

Ric and Cesar focused on securing the perimeter, reinforcing the fence with whatever metal sheets they could find. They strung up more barbed wire along the top, though Ric knew it was only a temporary solution.

Sam and Teo helped Martha gather and organize food and water inside the main bungalow, ensuring that everything was rationed properly.

Cat checked their medical supplies, taking stock of bandages, antibiotics, and the limited medicine they had.

Lola Suelo remained in the shade, watching them work with silent concern.

The sun climbed higher, beating down on them as they labored. Sweat dripped from their brows, but no one complained. They all knew what was at stake.

Ric wiped his forehead and surveyed their progress. The compound was still far from impenetrable, but at least they had a stronger barrier between them and the horrors outside.

Then, a desperate voice shattered the quiet.

"Cesar! Cesar! Please—please, I need help!"

Ric ran up toward the scaffold. Standing outside, disheveled and frantic, was Camilo, one of their neighbors. His clothes were torn, his face smeared with dirt and dried blood.

Behind him, the street was eerily empty, but Ric could see faint movement in the distance—the slow, dragging shuffle of the infected.

Camilo's eyes were wild with terror. "They—they got inside! The infected! They killed my wife, my kids!" His voice cracked, raw with grief. "Please! Let me in!"

Ric moved down instinctively toward the gate, but Cesar's firm hand gripped his shoulder, stopping him.

"No," Cesar said coldly.

Ric turned to his father, disbelief flashing across his face. "We can't just leave him out there."

Cesar's expression remained hard. "We don't know if he's infected."

Camilo pressed himself against the metal bars of the gate, his breathing ragged. "I swear, I'm clean! Please, Cesar! I have nowhere else to go!"

Cesar's jaw tightened. "We let him in, and we put everyone at risk."

Ric clenched his fists. "He's our neighbor."

Cesar narrowed his eyes. "He's the same neighbor who blocked our driveway with his jeepneys every day, no matter how many times I told him not to. And now you want me to risk our lives for him?"

Camilo's face contorted with desperation. "For God's sake, Cesar! That doesn't matter now!"

The tension was suffocating. Ric could feel everyone watching—Cat, Sam, Teo, even Martha and Lola Suelo. The choice was his.

His heart pounded as he weighed survival against morality.

Then, in the distance, the groans of the infected grew louder.

The infected were coming.

Camilo turned, panic overtaking him. "Please! They're close!"

Ric looked at his father. "We can at least check him. If he's clean, he can help us."

Cesar's eyes burned with frustration. "Ric—"

But Ric had already made up his mind. He unlatched the gate and pulled it open.

"Get in!"

Camilo stumbled forward, but in that instant—

The infected lunged.

Three of them.

They had been lurking just beyond sight, hidden in the blind spots of the gate's corners. And now, with the entrance open, they surged in after Camilo.

The first one was a woman with half her face torn away, her bony fingers grasping at the air. The second was a large man, his bloated stomach split open, intestines trailing behind him. The third, smaller but faster, sprinted forward with an ear-piercing shriek.

Cesar shouted in fury. "Ric! Close it—!"

But it was too late.

The infected were already inside.