Chapter 3: Panic at the office

John leaned in closer, his brow furrowing as the figure drifted out of frame. "What the hell was that?" he muttered, barely above a whisper.

"That didn't look like someone faking it," someone said. "They didn't even look at the phone."

"They looked... lost," Myreign added softly. "Like they didn't know where they were."

The room fell into a tense, uneasy quiet. No one knew what to say next.

John tore his eyes away from the screen, his thoughts racing. He looked around the room and looked towards the ROTC officer. 

John took a step closer and asked, his voice calm but firm, "What are your plans?"

The ROTC officer turned to him, his expression unreadable. "I'm not sure," he admitted, the honesty in his voice surprising. "We're trained for a lot of things, but not… this."

Then, from near the door, one of the younger ROTC cadets near the door looked outside and stepped closer to the glass panel that looked out into the hallway.

"Sir," he said, voice low. "Something's approaching. Slowly."

And then the cadet added, barely above a whisper:

"It's not walking right."

The officer thought for a moment, eyes flicking between the hallway and the group still huddled inside the study hall. Then he turned toward Richson, John, and the rest of his fellow cadets.

"Alright, listen up," he said. "We can't stay out in the open. If something's coming, we need to hide to see what that is. It might be a false alarm but we shouldn't take any chances."

"Everyone, head up. We'll take the right-side office. Richson, take your group to the left. Close the doors, stay quiet, and keep your eyes on the hallway. If anyone sees anything, don't panic and just observe."

John looked back at Myreign and the others still clustered near the desks. They were already starting to stand, gathering bags, moving quietly now. 

John stood still for a second, caught between the two groups. He glanced toward the officer and his cadets, then back at Richson's side Myreign, the girl with the phone, and a few unfamiliar faces among the students.

He exhaled quietly. Then he turned and followed Richson. 

The group moved quickly, their footsteps hushed on the stairwell. The officer and his cadets peeled off to the right, disappearing into the right ROTC office. Richson's group, with John close behind, turned left, into a near-identical ROTC office but on the left. 

As the group peers below towards the windows of the study hall they spot the figure that the ROTC officer mentioned. 

"Over there," he whispered, nodding toward the glass. "That's it. That's what the officer saw."

The group crowded quietly behind him, peering through the narrow window.

A figure was moving just beyond the study hall, slowly passing the row of tall glass windows. Its gait was off stiff, unsteady, like it was barely aware of its surroundings. Its head hung slightly forward, and one arm dangled at an awkward angle. The clothes were rumpled, faintly stained, but intact. Its movements weren't violent. There was no sign of rage or urgency.

Soon the figure drifted past the last window and out of sight.