For the first time since the chaos began—
They had something they hadn't had before.
An advantage.
Not strength.
Not weapons.
Understanding.
The husband stepped back slightly, his mind already moving ahead.
"They react to movement and sound…" he repeated quietly.
"…but light confuses them."
The group looked at him.
Waiting.
"What does that mean?" one of the students asked.
"It means we don't fight them," he said.
"We control them."
Silence.
Because that changed everything.
"Phones," he said immediately.
"Everyone—take out your phones."
There was hesitation.
Confusion.
But fear had already taught them one thing—
Trust what works.
One by one—
Flashlights turned on.
Small beams of light cut through the dim corridor.
"Keep them steady," he instructed.
"Don't wave them around. Don't panic."
He moved closer to the door leading ahead.
Paused.
Listened.
Then slowly—
Opened it.
Inside—
Darkness.
And shapes.
Unmoving.
Waiting.
"Stay close," he said.
And stepped forward.