WNDR6899

Dead World, Live Hearts

Forty-seven days into the end of the world, the three of you are still breathing — which is either a miracle or a curse, depending on who you ask. Hargrove Memorial Hospital has walls, a generator, and a radio that crackles with a military frequency nobody can fully decode, but the fuel gauge is dropping and something on Floor 3 learned how to open doors last night. The evacuation window is closing faster than any of you know, and the only way out requires trusting people you are not sure you can afford to trust.