Cheong-san rears back, kicks once, twice. The metal groans. Third kick—the lock snaps. The door swings open to the .
ON-JO: Go!
ON-JO: Then we go down. Fire escape.
ON-JO (whisper): Did a zombie...?
NA-YEON: Stay back. If you turn—
CHEONG-SAN: (too fast) No. Broken glass. I swear.
Na-yeon scrambles through. On-jo follows. Cheong-san last. All of Us Are Dead Script
Na-yeon stares at the scratch. Her grip tightens on the scissors.
ON-JO (to Na-yeon): Put those down. We need every pair of hands.
NA-YEON (18, fearful, calculating) crouches near the stairwell, clutching a pair of scissors. She’s shaking. Cheong-san rears back, kicks once, twice
He looks down. A fresh scratch on his forearm. Blood. On-jo’s eyes widen.
ON-JO: Then prove it. Kick the door down.
Beat. The name hangs. Gyeong-su turned an hour ago. Cheong-san had to push him off the railing. The door swings open to the
CHEONG-SAN: There’s no “should have.” Only now.
Metal door to the roof. Pushing against it from the inside is CHEONG-SAN (18, brave, impulsive) and ON-JO (18, practical, terrified). Behind them, the hallway is filled with HORDES of zombies—students in bloodied uniforms, snapping jaws, milky eyes.