CHEONG-SAN (cold): I’m not him.
Cheong-san glances down the hall. Too many. He shakes his head.
CHEONG-SAN: There’s no “should have.” Only now. All of Us Are Dead Script
A zombie’s HAND bursts through the closet door. They have seconds.
Na-yeon stares at the scratch. Her grip tightens on the scissors. CHEONG-SAN (cold): I’m not him
CHEONG-SAN: I’m not infected.
Cheong-san rears back, kicks once, twice. The metal groans. Third kick—the lock snaps. The door swings open to the . All of Us Are Dead Script
Beat. The name hangs. Gyeong-su turned an hour ago. Cheong-san had to push him off the railing.
