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... h the small, dimly lit supply room. Winter braced his shoulder against it while Zara scrambled to secure the barricade—an old metal shelf, a crate of rations, anything they could push against the door to keep the horrors outside at bay.
For a long, breathless moment, they just stood there, listening.
The distant, wet groans of the infected. The occasional scrape of something against the walls. But nothing trying to break in. Not yet.
Zara exhaled, arms shaking as she slow ...
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