The emergency responders move like yellow ghosts through the smoke.
The group banded together before you could get away. Now you find yourself in the middle, an unwilling participant in a silent parade that marches past cars that won't start and shops that are eternally closed.
In the darkness, you seem like the others. You even adopt their attitude of ignoring the piles of smoldering dead.
The group stops near a high school gymnasium. One by one, you move past the electric generators, through plastic sheets, and into the light of the staging area.
When the last of you has stepped through the final veil, the door seals, and the scrubbers whir.
The one in charge -- Dr. Steve, everyone affectionately calls him -- takes off his hazmat helmet and motions everyone to do the same.
You're done for.
37th place (out of 74) in the 29th Annual Interactive Fiction Competition (2023).
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