Leo looked down. The tablet screen wasn't black anymore. It was a live satellite view of his own street. Tiny, pixelated green dots were pouring out of the storm drains, converging on a single blue dot: his house.

He scrolled frantically to the bottom of the "Terms of Service" he had skipped. There, in tiny, flickering letters, it read:

A heavy thud hit the front door. Then another. The "crowd" wasn't just in the game anymore. Leo realized with a jolt of horror that the "unlimited infects" he had unlocked weren't a digital currency. They were an invitation.

Then he saw it on a flickering forum page:

Leo looked at the screen one last time. A map appeared, showing a clear path through his backyard and into the woods. A timer started counting down from ten. He didn't have unlimited infects. He had a head start. Leo jumped.

The blue light of the tablet flickered against Leo’s face, casting long, jittery shadows on the bedroom wall. It was 2:00 AM, the hour when the internet feels less like a library and more like a dark alleyway.