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... a ripple of panic through the library. Survivors darted between shelves, grabbing whatever makeshift weapons they could find—broken chair legs, fire pokers, and even a sharp-edged ruler wielded by an elderly woman with surprising gusto.

"Great," Mallory muttered, hoisting her trusty frying pan. "I finally find a group of nerds, and they’re about to get eaten. Classic Mallory luck."

Greg, crouched behind an overturned table, waved frantically. "Mallory, focus! We need to block th ...

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