《Survival: At World’s End》


 Chapter 1 - Episode 0: Frankie

    ¡°At first, it wasn''t easy. Hiding from the hordes was a mess, those things can smell your fucking fear. You know, I accidentally hid in one of their nests. The smell was horrendous. There were piles of melted bleeding flesh everywhere¡­ it was.. Just awful.¡± The helmeted figure recollects their story.


    They turn to the poorly stitched together stuffed rabbit monster of felt and pieces of other plushies, and flip up their night vision goggles, revealing a young woman¡¯s light blue eyes and freckled face underneath. ¡°Well I''m glad you''re here with me, Frankie. It makes all these waking nightmares¡­ mostly¡­ bearable.¡± She takes the franken plush and straps it on her hip. ¡°Coast is clear buddy, let''s head out¡±.


    The dead of night is when they are most active, but it''s also the best time to look for resources. Aside from the rotting monsters, there are bandits to worry about. They''d rather kill you than let you take what they see as theirs. Although fortunately, most of them fear the massive hordes.


    As the pair makes their way to a rundown pharmacy, they hear the deafening clicking and snarls of the Herald, the sign of a massive horde approaching. Heralds, being recently turned, still give off the human scent, and with their increased agility manage to outrun the undead, allowing for hordes to grow in numbers.


    The best way to scatter a horde is to kill or relocate the herald. They aren''t easy to catch on account of their speed and inhuman reflexes. ¡°Damn it, I don''t have a dog catcher on me¡­ looks like this''ll have to do¡± she grabs a rock, and throws it at the herald, scaring it away. Then she runs the opposite direction of where it ran to, and trips on the corpse of a Chaser. The standard undead. The young woman pushes herself up and looks behind to see what she tripped on. The sight of its visage pulls her to action, taking out her knife and de-braining it with repeated stabs, blood splattering her helmet.


    Taking the opportunity she was granted, she takes her plush, and opens the zipper on its face, positioned just where the mouth would be. With her knife, she quickly cuts off the chaser''s hand and stuffs it in the plush¡¯s mouth. She perks her head up from her work, the thudding noise of a thousand footsteps interrupting her, from the entrance of the pharmacy hundreds of chasers spew out in a cacophony of frantic moans and hungry groans.


    Quickly she runs behind the pharmacy, masking her scent with Frankie and the hand. The herald is leading them away, giving her the opportunity to sneak in and gather supplies. ¡°Oh god¡­ the stench¡­ just as I remember it.¡± as she navigates the pharmacy, flashlight in hand, littered in blood and gore, moving aside dangling flesh, she keeps an eye out for what she needs. ¡°Cans¡­ water¡­ chips¡­ batteries¡­ First aid kit¡­ inhaler¡­ pills¡­¡± she repeats this over and over in her head.


    When The End first started, many ran to their closest stores and grabbed what they could. Some cases didn''t end well, disputes over who gets what, man killing child, monster killing screaming woman. The signs of the beginning are everywhere. Every bullet hole, every skull, tells a story.


    In these places there are very little supplies left, if at all. Those who managed to get away with a good portion, and those who didn''t make it past their aisle. It''s the latter whose sacrifice is honored by the survivors of today. Human ingenuity surpasses that of a mindless fiend. However it''s panic and vanity that attracts these creatures. Darwin¡¯s Game is what bandits and raiders call the massacre that was the first month.


    And on some level they''re right. Modern survivors are only alive due to their adaptability and ingenuity. And whether that''s a byproduct of The End, is unclear. Survival of the fittest is once again the law of the land. In this age of blood, only one will come out on top in the contest of brains versus brawns.


    She navigates the nest, dried bone and rotting flesh nearly make her gag. But she powers through. The first of the items she finds are batteries, she grabs 3 boxes of 10 double A, and puts them in a pillowcase she pulled out of her backpack. Many of the aisles have broken, eroded, and unsalvageable shelves, some things can be found below or in between shelves. Unfortunately, moving them makes too much noise.


    The next items she finds are cans. ¡°Peach cans¡­ shit¡¯s dented to hell and back.¡± 5 canned peaches into the bag. Chips are difficult to come by, they make for a good travel snack, if they''re not popped and scattered all over the floor. The best ones to grab are the ones in cardboard tubes, like Dingles, canned chips. Their durability makes them easier to find intact.


    There''s a plastic bottle near the medicinal section of the pharmacy. ¡°A reusable bottle? Been wanting one of those¡± she takes it and clips it onto her backpack. For now, she can''t find chips, but she does find a gallon of bottled water. Their handles make it difficult to hold onto, but the sack is large enough to hold it with some careful arrangement.


    The woman stops in her tracks. Moaning and clicking can be heard nearby. ¡°A chaser?¡± she thinks, and carefully looks up to the cornered mirrors of the pharmacy. A chaser is at the edge of the other side of the aisle she''s in, just where she needs to go to hop over the pharmacy check out and into their shelves. ¡°Did your pals leave you behind, miss?¡± she says as she carefully makes her way towards the edge. While her scent is masked, noise is also an attractor for these monsters.


    She sets the sack down, and pulls the knife out of her back strap. With a firm grip and careful timing, she quickly turns the corner, shoving the blade of her knife into its face. It squeals, trying to reach the woman with its rotting fingernails. She struggles, but manages to push the knife to the right to split its head wide creating a horrific gash. The cracking of the split felt like tearing apart a coconut. It gargles out blood before she kicks it off of her knife. She unscrews a knob on the hilt and pulls out a white rag and begins to clean the blade.


    ¡°So, either you got left behind, or a horde is right around the corner¡­¡± she looks at the undead woman on the floor a few feet ahead of her. Then looks back into the medicine shelves. She hops over the counter and takes out a large pillow sack, and shovels in the 10 or so bottles. The pills rattling make too much noise for her to not be noticed, so she quickly ties up the sack, and on her way out she grabs 2 first aid kits off the shelves. One of them seems to have been opened already.


    With all bags she hurries outside, and uses the bushes to hide her loot. She runs off to grab her motorbike, and places the bags in the sidecar after slowly rolling it to the bush. Once they''re all loaded up, speeds off laughing, her heart pounding in her chest. ¡°We did it Frankie! We fucking did it! Hahah!¡±.


    After an hour of riding, she makes it to her base. An old treehouse spanning multiple trees with metal supports and sheets. At the base of the tree with a ladder, are initials carved within a heart. ¡°M+F¡±. The woman parks her bike on a platform, then climbs up the ladder. Once she''s up there, she turns a crank and pulls up the platform into the treehouse. It pulls up into a shed, a mechanics paradise.


    She unloads the sidecar and drags the sacks into a separate area. This area is akin to a living room, a wooden couch, a patio, and stairs that lead up into a bedroom. By the look of this area, it''s clear that a lot of time and care was put into it. In the living room there are a set of ladders that lead into a ¡°kitchen¡±. It''s fairly unsanitary, since there is dirt everywhere. In the kitchen is a contraption that collects and filters rainwater. This water is used to clean, drink, and once the top off sliver is reached, water the plants of the small garden that''s near a bucket used to collect ¡°fertilizer¡±.


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    In the middle of the living room is a massive stump, the setup is similar to a war table. A massive map of the area makes the center its home. There seems to be a thin layer of glass on it, and the glass itself is marked in red marker with interesting locals. With a rag, the woman wipes away the red mark that circled the pharmacy she just explored. After doing so, she takes out everything she gathered from the sacks and begins to sort her loot.


    She sets aside one of the battery packs, and places the remaining two in separate bags. The woman repeats this process for all items, always keeping 1 for herself. The two separated groups of items are stored into the two separate bags. She organizes the medications and aid kits the same way. This is a long process that takes into the crack of dawn. She climbs the stairs into her bedroom, and throws herself onto her bed, and sleeps.


    Hours later, the woman wakes up from her slumber, an old rusted pocket watch tells her it''s the middle of the day. She puts it back in her pocket, and gets up to greet the day. Her helmet has a visor that slides up, and night goggles that slide down. She loads the two sacks from before onto the sidecar, gets on, raises a flag on the back that shows an ouroboros and turns the crank to lower the platform. ¡°Alright Frankie, lets make these deliveries¡± she sets off on her bike, heading towards the nearby survivor''s encampment a few miles away.


    On the ride there, her bike starts to slow down outside of her command, ¡°Running low on fuel." She parks it and goes behind the sidecar ¡°there you are.¡± she grabs one of the two gas cans tied down ¡°fuck, you empty bastard.¡± she puts it back and grabs the other ¡°oh thank God¡­ should be enough to get me to the gas station¡± she refuels, and gets back on her bike. ¡°Ooo no don''t worry about it, you can just do it tomorrow¡± she scoffs after mocking herself.


    When The End began, all gas stations country-wide unlocked the gas nozzles, allowing for any and all passersby to refuel. The only government aid that seemed to actually help. Everything else either made the situation worse or had zero effect. Gas stations aren''t the only source of gas however, oil fields and other cars can be a good source for it as well, though for the latter some siphoning is needed.


    Arriving at the gas station, she parks her bike near a pump and begins to refuel. After doing so, she hears something familiar, a snarl and a click, a chaser is nearby. She quickly jumps up, grabbing the gas station roof ledge, and scrambles up, scattering a trio of heralds. Surprisingly, there was no trademark shriek, or rapid taps of exposed bone on ground. No, the sound stayed, there was something off about this chaser. It was wandering around, almost aimlessly instead of searching for the heralds.


    She spots it, and it''s strikingly distinct from the everyday chaser ¡°What the hell are you¡­?¡± she thinks to herself, as the chaser crawls on its arms, wagging its exposed spine as if it were a tail. The strange chaser propels itself upwards using its arms, and spreads itself, revealing thin skin connecting its arms to its body. It was a glider of sorts, and that was made apparent when it seemed to float over the ground towards the road.


    The gliding undead picks at a crack in the road, and after looking around, its back begins to inflate and deflate. Almost as if it were winding up, and it was going to call over a horde. ¡°In the middle of the road¡­? You bastard.¡± She quickly hops off of the roof and carefully makes her way towards the strange chaser. Unfortunately, the undead quickly turns around and bites at her from a distance, snarling in warning. She ignores the noises and runs in towards it, pulling out her knife.


    It jumps up at her, wrapping its arm flaps over her face, she struggles, muffling through the rotting skin. It''s thin enough for her to make out what it''s doing with its tail. It wriggles violently, it tries to impale it through her chest, but she manages to grab it just before. She plays tug of war with it, and eventually manages to rip it from her face. She slams it on the ground and stomps on its head with her boot, and pulls the spine as hard as she could to tear it off from the body.


    She falls back, panting hard and wiping off its blood from her face. She takes a deep breath and lets it out. After a moment, she gets up, and carves the skin of the neck and removes its head. ¡°Fucker. You''ll fetch some good credits at the raiders wont ya.¡± She murmurs to the dead undead, grinning.


    She makes her way back to her bike, but refills the two gas cans before setting off. She places the head in the sidecar, and continues onwards to the survivors camp. After maybe half an hour of riding, she finally arrives at the fenced gate. Two guards stand at the two towers up front. They look at the ouroboros flag, and check with each other and one of them radios to their chief ¡°Rider¡¯s here¡±. After a few seconds, they signal to the gateman ¡°let er¡¯ in¡±. She guides her bike inside with her legs ¡°welcome back Rider¡±.


    The camp is a full marketplace, where Vultures like Rider sell off loot that require a more steady mind to gather from nests, like ammunition, medical supplies and non-perishable food. The marketplace in return sells scrap, fresh food, crafted weapons and protection. This of course, is provided by settlements themselves who buy the supplies brought in from the Vultures. And it''s all based on a trust system with the marketplace, who provide ¡°credits¡± for the wares to be bartered over, especially useful if someone needs to trade at a later date.


    Some vultures even have benefits, like Rider, who has access to food and water free of charge, so long as it''s reasonable. Most likely due to her kindness and frequent deliveries that other Vultures don''t tend to provide.


    Every vulture has to meet with the chief and resource officials. The vulture counts their loot, and the chief along with officials determine the granted credits should the vulture decide to take them instead of offering a trade. Some settlements are better off than others. Each settlement has at least a single doctor, but they lack tools or medical supplies to perform their duties. The resource official for medicine takes a look at Rider¡¯s gathered medical supplies, three bottles, a tube of cream and an inhaler. 500 credits on their behalf.


    The other resource officers do the same, appraising the gathered loot and assigning numbers. The chief tallies up the total on a notepad, and presents it. ¡°Alright Rider. As always, here is your gain.¡± He says, pointing at a figure of 1100, an average amount for any haul. ¡°And here is your total.¡± The figure at the bottom shows a large 329,100 credits in her favor, and the notepad is full of ever increasing figures from the past. ¡°Are you sure you don¡¯t need any supplies? With how much you keep bringing in, we have more than enough to share. Don''t hesitate to ask for our help, Rider.¡± The chief pleads with a fond smile.


    ¡°It''s okay, Jones. When I need to, I''ll use the credits. Right now I''m just looking to help out. The food and water supplies are enough¡±. She tilts her head slightly, her face is masked under her helmet, but her expression is easy to tell. A warm smile. Jones¡¯ bottom lip begins to quiver, but after a deep breath, he tightens his closed eyes, and leans back.


    ¡°Alright Rider, thank you for the supplies.¡± After she leaves with her credits noted down, one of the officials places their hand on Jones¡¯ shoulder. He sighs out, and gets lost in his memories. ¡°She has her reasons.¡± he gets up and returns to his daily duties. Running a settlement isn''t easy, but with officials by his side, it''s easier to manage.


    He''s never seen her face, but her voice is enough. He recognizes his daughter under any mask, and he¡¯s willing to do anything he can to help her, but she never gives in. Before leaving, Rider visits the kitchen. There she fills up her new water flask, and takes a loaf of bread. Whenever she leaves her bike unattended, the mechanic takes it to his shop for a free refuel and repair if it needs it. ¡°You take really good care of Oro, there''s no damage to it anywhere, engine¡¯s better than when I last saw her. As always, impressive work.¡± he says inspecting it. Rider nods, and he hands over her bike. She hops on and waves away.


    Back on the road, she makes her way towards the raider camp for their deliveries. She''s made allies with these two local camps. The survivors have had problems with them before, but after Rider appeared, the raiders have had no reason to go out on their raids anymore. They mostly focus on clearing the surrounding areas of undead and infestation. But since the lack of raids began, there have been some uproars in the hierarchy circles. Some solos have appeared here and there from the camp. A notable one being a raider who aims to overtake his chief and reinstate the raids.


    On her way there, she passes by the gas station, but something is off. She slows down, and looks around, the corpse of the glider isn''t there. She shrugs it off and drives forward, seeing a parade on the horizon. ¡°Cultists, should''ve known.¡± As she gets closer, she can see a group of bald men and women with scars marking their skin. They wear tattered robes splattered in blood. They''re holding the decapitated glider nailed to a cross, dancing around it, singing. One of them sees her approaching, he points and lets out a howl.


    She speeds past them ¡°Sick assholes, got nothing better to do than to-¡± before she can finish, the ear shattering sound of a war horn blared from the parade. ¡°Oh fuck please no¡± she says, and a fleet of cultists in SUV¡¯s drive out firing their guns into the sky and at her. ¡°A fucking warparty! Why! You dickheads are gonna wake it!¡± An SUV drives up next to her and takes a swing with their rusted sheet cleaver, she leans forward, narrowly avoiding it. ¡°Blasphemer!¡± the cultist then shouted out.


    A distant roar is heard, and the ground shakes in a series of earth quaking thuds. ¡°Nonononono!¡± she whispers to herself in panic, as a massive house-sized bear rushes out of the woods crushing trees in its path. Its fur is lined in yellow veins thicker than a drain pipe. It snarls and charges its way, pawing away SUV¡¯s and causing a massive explosion that stalls it for only a moment. The corpse of a cultist and the fender of their vehicle get launched forward. The SUV who swung at her runs over the fender, bouncing up slightly and then swerving into a tree.


    The bear charges out of the roaring flames, lit ablaze by its infernal rage. It has one target left, Rider. She tries to outspeed it, but it keeps charging ahead, gaining ground. So she leads it into a clearing, where a large lake resides in the middle. If she can''t shake it off she¡¯ll at least try to make it less dangerous, if only slightly. Near the lake is a large rock shaped like a ramp. She drives into it and jumps the gap, hoping the bear follows, but before it can, a large rumble and groan takes its attention. From the woods comes shambling a large horde, too many to count.


    The horde keeps the bear busy, and Rider escapes on the other side of the lake through the forest.

 Chapter 1 - Episode 1: Jared

    It¡¯s always a sight, the path to the raider camp. Lined with pitfall traps, and zombies impaled on spiked poles for display. The general message was always ¡°KEEP THE FUCK OUT¡± to everyone but those who already lived inside, and nothing made that clearer than what was essentially a twenty foot pit with two heralds hung above in cages, connected to the concrete walls of the inner raider camp. On the sides stood two tall towers on both sides of each cage, a flame thrower attached to each one, for easy removal of chasers who fall inside the pit. This was the castle¡¯s moat.


    Not to mention, the actual sign above the doorway saying ¡°IF WE CAN SEE YOU WE WILL SHOOT YOU!¡± and a side note saying ¡°unles u git pusy¡±, the latter, written with red spray paint instead of soldered on and carefully painted.


    Rider looks on in pity at the hanging bait. Their fate was cruel, any traitor, elderly or unlucky shmuck to be caught would be bitten or force fed zombie guts, hung and then left out to rot, waiting to be turned and then killed. The reason for all this? Not to rid the world of undead, but because they make an excellent fuel source. Their bile especially. Whatever is controlling them, dislikes the sunlight, probably because it burns really well.


    Rider approaches the gates, and she sees three raiders. The first two seem to be guarding the entrance, while the third is chatting them up leaning against the wall and towering over them. The sounds of the roaring engine makes him turn around quickly, machete brandished. But quickly slides it back into its scabbard when he sees Rider.


    ¡°So, the lapdog returns! What did you fetch for the King this time, eh?¡± he laughs out, while the other two remain silent. They¡¯re too focused on their own card game laid out on a small table by the side.


    The scraping of the metal doors grabbed everyone''s attention, and out came the Boss, the inner guards pulling back to their post after pushing the door for him. He was there looking for the visitor. ¡°Boy. Manners.¡± He grunts out in a deep and growly voice.


    ¡°Manners?¡± the raider scoffs, turning to the old man. ¡°Didn¡¯t realize the King came to see us! Don¡¯t tell me you¡¯ve gotten even softer, Michael.¡±


    ¡°Jared. Watch your tone before I watch it for you.¡± They both stare at each other, before Jared lets out a dismissive tsk and turns away. ¡°Regardless, I''m glad you''re both here. Rider, after you make the deposit, there''s something I''d like to discuss with the both of you.¡± Jared looks back up at Michael, scowling slightly but curious. Rider follows the boss to the inside, where several scattered shacks are set up, and further ahead, a central tower with a bunch of slave¡¯s hooked next to trading posts circling it.


    ¡°Follow us up once you¡¯re done down here.¡± Michael says, walking up the stairs into the metal and concrete tower.


    Rider looks towards the slaves, and finds the quartermaster in charge. ¡°Ah, Rider, my friend, it is good to see you, yes? You have more for me to give these ingrates, yes?¡±


    A short and stubby sandy man, with the muscle to back up his cruelty. He grabs the offered bag from her, and counts out her spoils. ¡°Mmm, yes, good good. You do well for my business. Don¡¯t be afraid to take what you need my friend. In fact, how about a stud just for you?¡±


    Seeing Rider not say anything he backtracks, ¡°Or do you prefer the whores? Don¡¯t worry my friend, if you need it, I can get it!¡±


    Rider shakes her head, ¡°The boss wants to see me. Please take your time.¡± She says sarcastically.


    The quartermaster¡¯s eyes widen, and nods his head. ¡°Very well, very well. My scavengers found something I thought you¡¯d like. Looking after that rabbit all this time, you might be running low on sewing materials!¡± He says, taking out a small box and opening it up for her. Inside is a pristine kit, carefully arranged. ¡°And, is that a head you have on your bike? Let me see it already.¡±


    She nods, as he waddles over to her bike, grabbing the glider head. ¡°Oooh, one of the new specimens, Kalo will like this. Come back once you¡¯ve talked with the boss and have an idea of what you¡¯d like. I hate owing you so much.¡± He chuckles, tossing the head into a basket full of them.


    She follows the boss upstairs, and reaches a control room of sorts that''s been repurposed into a command room, with a throne too. On the side there¡¯s a metal door where voices can be heard talking, quite loudly. At least one voice now.


    ¡°You talk to me like that again, and it won¡¯t just be another round in the pit again. I¡¯ll keep you down there until you beg me to let you out. Now get out.¡± Can be heard as the door is kicked open, Jared storming out. Tall, muscled and bald, the epitome of deadbeat and angry. A young man with a lot to prove. His darkish blue eyes bore into Rider, a wave of fury being kept within.


    ¡°Get out of my way, lapdog.¡± She moves aside, dodging his shoulder trying to bump her. Seeing that he missed he just rushes out faster. Michael, looks up from his desk inside the other room, and waves her in.


    ¡°Take a seat.¡± She slowly sits down looking at him in confusion. ¡°Rider, you have helped us with these runs for three years now. You explore and travel the area. You know more than anyone else about the outside world. While we still scavenge and defend ourselves from others, we haven¡¯t been on a raid in those three years. And unfortunately some of my raiders are getting ideas. They long for adventure, for challenge, for blood. But I know now that there¡¯s strength in a fortified position, in helping each other, in helping humanity as a whole. The enemy isn¡¯t another group, but the infection. You taught me that, Rider.¡± He says fondly, getting up and looking at a glass case full of trophies, mostly zombie skulls but a few of them from the leaders of other raider groups he domesticated.


    His eyes turn cold, staring at her through the reflection. ¡°I¡¯m getting old. Soon, old enough to be put up as bait in the cages. I don¡¯t fear my death, but the death of my camp. What I¡¯ve built. My kingdom. And like any king, I need a successor, Jared. Head strong with a lot of potential, but I can¡¯t allow him to sit on my throne while he still worships the savagery that were the raids we went on and ruin everything I¡¯ve built to protect my community. That''s why, I¡¯m sending him with you. You have a knack for making people better, I want you to do the same with him.¡±


    At the end of his speech, his face is now adorned with a bitter sweet smile. Rider looks at him, and tilts her head to the side. ¡°Okay.¡± She stands back up, heading towards the door, but is stopped as he starts again.


    ¡°He¡¯ll see it as exile, but I¡¯ll always welcome him back. I just wish to see him improve as a man.¡± He shakes his head out of the memories in his head. ¡°I¡¯ll get Jared to meet up with you at the gate if you don¡¯t mind waiting, and please send him up, he¡¯s probably sulking by the market.¡±


    Rider nods in response, and then continues downwards back to the market where she left her bike at. She sees a slave run off holding onto a blade, and the quartermaster snarling. ¡°GET BACK HERE YOU UNGRATEFUL BASTARD, YOU¡¯RE GOING TO GET SHOT!¡± And as soon as he says that, a bolt is found stuck in the slave''s head, courtesy of a guard with a crossbow. ¡°Bah! Wasting my property like that. You¡¯re going to pay for damages!¡± The guard flips him off in response.


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    ¡°Keep them on a better leash then!¡±


    He notices her, turning with a smile on his face ¡°Ah, Rider, you¡¯re back. Given any thought to what you¡¯d like this time?¡± He points to a market stall with a mousey raider who jitters about staring at everything with wide eyes, her clothes only being a mess of rags. ¡°This one¡¯s just been caught with her hand in a cookie jar! Metaphorically of course. Usually we would tie her up in the cages, but I can tell how the guys looked at her. However, she¡¯s still fresh right now!¡±


    Rider gives the slave a once over, she¡¯s a thin waif of a woman, a crop of dirty blonde hair adorning a frail pale face, and green eyes that stared at her in equal measures of hope and fear. The poor thing looked like she hadn¡¯t eaten in days, maybe weeks. She looked familiar to her, in almost a funhouse mirror type of way.


    Rider thought it over, and ultimately caved. While she was a thief, and possibly deserving of her fate if she was deemed a traitor, she needed someone to help her with her tasks, and supply runs. And maybe even look after Jared. A thief she may be, but she looked like she needed a palace more than anything else. ¡°I¡¯ll take her with me.¡±


    The quartermaster looked at her wide-eyed, a genuine smile forming on his face. ¡°Ah I see you like her that much. Very well, I¡¯ll give her chains over to you. After all you¡¯ve done for Nigel, Nigel owes you at least this much.¡± The slave looks at her in confusion, the fear draining slowly.


    ¡°T-thank you. I-I¡¯ll do whatever you want. Thank you.¡±


    The quartermaster looks at her in disgust. ¡°Quiet!¡± The slave shuts up, and sits back down, head almost bowed.


    Rider sees Jared standing by a market near another woman, this time a bright and cheery lady who was selling weapons to various raiders. His eyes seemed to be glued to her chest, and not the big one by her feet filled with various tools of murder. Noticing a pair of eyes on him, he turns to her, and a scowl adorns his face within the second.


    ¡°Mike wants to speak with you upstairs.¡± She says in a monotone voice. Jared sighs, and jogs his way back up, hoping to get this over with.


    ¡°Couldn¡¯t have said it earlier could he?¡± He mutters under his breath, giving her a stink eye.


    Nigel looks at her, a fake smile on his face this time. ¡°I can see why the boss likes him, but it may be best if he learns to be a little more quiet. I¡¯ve heard what he says at the bar. No respect in that boy''s voice for anyone.¡± He shakes his head in disapproval. ¡°Even worse, he looks at my property without paying a penny! I bet the bastard wants to touch them too. For free.¡± He says the last part as if it was the most insane thing ever. ¡°Anyways, take your new property with you. Don¡¯t want her pinching my goods.¡± A chain enters Rider¡¯s hands, attached to the neck collar of the slave, the girl herself crawling over to sit by the bike.


    ¡°Do you have a name?¡± she asks the chained girl before offering her a hand to stand up. The girl looks up and stares at her hand for a few seconds in confusion, and hesitation, before slowly reaching out to get up.


    ¡°I¡¯m Eliza. Ma¡¯am.¡±


    ¡°Pleased to meet you, Eliza. I hear you have nimble fingers.¡± She bends down slightly, to get their eyes leveled with each other. She tilts her head slightly, first to the left, then to the right, appraising her new property, her new aid.


    ¡°I uhh, Yes Ma¡¯am.¡± She says, before quickly looking down and fidgeting from the constant staring. ¡°I also know how to- how to use a knife. And my-¡± She gulps face going slightly red. ¡°And I¡¯m really good with my hands.¡± She almost whispers the last part, cringing slightly at herself.


    ¡°Good. From now on, you¡¯re helping me on my Vulture hunts.¡± Eliza looks up confused, the embarrassment gone, and nods. Before eyes widening, and lips trembling as she realizes what exactly Rider means. Dealing with the undead. But she keeps quiet, a tremble to her lips as she forces herself to keep quiet. Rider notices her expression and tilts her head curiously.


    Before she can ask, Jared is already storming down the stairs, shotgun and rifle slung over his shoulder, with a large makeshift sledgehammer in one hand, and a duffel bag in the other. He¡¯s wearing a black leather jacket adorned with chainmail, fur and small bones. His eyes are glazed over, but his face is stuck in a furious expression, and everyone that was gathered on the path to the gate shuffles out of the way in confusion and fear.


    He stops in the middle, turning his head towards Rider. ¡°Hurry the fuck up!¡± And then he continues onwards, as the inner guards push open the gates.


    She looks down at her hip and in her own thoughts, she speaks to the rabbit. ¡°You see this shit Frankie? Friends.¡± She pats Eliza on the head, and points at the side car. After they both get on the bike, slowly driving out of the gates, to Jared, who has now gotten on top of a dark red motorcycle of his own. He just stares ahead silently grumbling to himself, waiting for her to lead the way. And so, the trio set off to her treehouse.


    They stop near the tree house, Rider parking her bike on the platform. The pulley system can only support one bike, so she gets off and climbs the ladder before pulling it up with a crank like before. Jared, seeing that the platform isn¡¯t going down, grumbles to himself and parks near a tree, using a chain to wrap it and the tree locked. He follows up after her, managing to haul all of his gear up with him. Eliza stayed on the bike while it was hauled up and has a smug smile on her face while she stares at Jared climb.


    Rider unhooks the slave''s chain, handing it over to her, and starts rearranging her room, setting up beds with the few remaining pillows and blankets she had. ¡°There are empty crates around here you can use. Do whatever you want with them.¡±


    It was a makeshift home, but a home nonetheless. ¡°Feel free to move your set up anywhere.¡± Eliza nods, but chooses to drop her chain by a bed, and sits down in it, covering herself up into a small huddle. Jared instead drops his bag and weapons, goes out of the room and comes back in quickly with a crate in his arms. He sets it down in a corner, puts his shit in the corner crate, and drags the blankets over there. Then he leans against a wall and stares at Rider.


    Rider picks up Frankie from her hip, unzips its mouth, and gives it a whiff. she grabs the severed hand of the chaser and looks it over, ¡°Not as potent anymore.¡± And tosses it out her window.


    Eliza jumps slightly staring wide eyed, but Jared does nothing, his brows only furrowing into a glare. A basic staredown.


    She looks at both of them ¡°What?¡± Eliza only shakes her head in response, but Jared steps up to her, towering over her. ¡°Michael kicked me out. Says I could learn a thing or two from you. Bull fucking shit. Scrawny little girl like you doesn''t know a damn thing I don''t. If you have something to teach me, I¡¯m fucking waiting. Dog.¡± After that, Jared goes back to his spot, and lays down in his cot, focusing himself on sharpening his machete.


    Rider thinks for a moment, noticing Eliza¡¯s expectant stares. She smiles underneath her helmet.


    ¡°Chasers are attracted to heralds because their human smell is amplified. They say the undead can smell your fear from a mile away. And that may just have some merit. Interestingly enough, they know the difference between a human and an undead, and to them, heralds having freshly turned, smell human. They''re attracted to human smell. So it''s common practice for solos and vultures, like me, to carry a fresh body part from a zombie with them to mask their human smell.¡± she explains, unsure if he heard her or not. Jared grunts in response, turning over to face her. His frown is gone, and he just stares at her unimpressed, and closes his eyes, while laying down.


    Eliza looks at her, actually impressed, and eager to learn more, but realizing that it''s dark out, lays down to sleep. ¡°Goodnight Ma¡¯am.¡± Her eyes close too.


    ¡°Goodnight, Eliza.¡± she replies, turning to face Jared. ¡°Goodnight, Jared.¡± The first time she¡¯s said those words to anyone other than Frankie. Jared fakes a loud snore.


    She sits down on her bed, crossing her legs and stares up into the night sky, through the leaves of the tree. ¡°Goodnight, Frankie.¡± She holds it in her arms, for a while, before finally deciding to lay down and join them in slumber.

 Chapter 1.2 - Episode 0.2: Jones

    A tall man in a leather jacket and a cowboy hat stands in front of a massive concrete wall. He places his hand on it, feeling its texture. ¡°The night came too quick. We barely had time to talk¡­ Now¡­ you know I can''t stay here much long, but I wanted to drop by and say I miss you. Michael tells me she¡¯s got a few new friends now¡­ people who can watch her back. So, we don''t have to worry as much. But, I know you. Always protective over our little girl¡­ even if she¡¯s grown.¡± a tear falls onto his hand ¡°I just wish you were here to see how much she has¡­ I''m¡­¡± the man goes quiet. Thoughts race in his head. His burden is heavy, and his sense of guilt is even worse. Yet despite this, he feels a warm embrace in the cold air. It''s a familiar feeling, one he never forgot, one he never will. ¡°I love you¡­ and I promise to stop by again tomorrow, real early so we have more time¡­¡± the man wipes away his tears, and flicks up his hat.


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 Chapter 1.2 - Episode 1.2: Mike

    ¡°So, it''s just about time, huh.¡± a man in a jagged crown stands behind his throne of scrap. He stares out the window and onto the pair riding away. He sighs out, a hopeful smile on his face. He pulls out a carton of cigarettes from his back pocket. It''s an old habit, even older than his reign. He pulls one out, and sits down on his throne. ¡°Damn kids better not get themselves killed. If it ain''t you¡­ this place goes to shit.¡± he pulls open a drawer in his desk ¡°where''s that damn light¡­¡± as he rummages around, he finds an old instant print camera. Under it, is a stack of photos held together by fishing wire. ¡°Memories, eh¡­ let''s see what you got.¡± he places the stack on his desk, and finds an old utility lighter. ¡°There you are. Better have some juice left.¡± as he presses it, the cigarette lights. ¡°Hell yeah.¡± he shoves it back in, and gets to the stack. ¡°Well shit. If it ain''t lil Jerbear." The photo is of a younger Jared punching an older raider at a bonfire. It''s dated 7 years ago ¡°ha! You can even see the tooth flyin out." The smile on his face says it all. ¡°You better come back to me alive, kid.¡±


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 Chapter 2 - Episode 2: Preparations

    The woods made up a large part of the safe quarantined area, and housed the two main settlements, Jones¡¯ Market and Mike¡¯s Kingdom, with Rider''s treehouse in the middle. Outside the forest, was the city, On the surface, a deadzone, Ground Zero. However, rumors have been spread of a city underneath the city itself. The sewers.


    Aside from the two main camps, existed four other settlements, one of which was home to a massive hive infestation, that separated the forest from the other three settlements. Using the fully deceased undead, a farming village masks their scent to make deliveries to Jones, but this takes a long time, and by the time they make it over, some of the crops are lost or spoiled. And currently the only other way to get to them was through the cliffside. However, if someone was mad enough to ride through the hive without fear of the horde, then perhaps it could be sped up.


    Rider¡¯s radio crackles to life, with a slightly deep laid back southern voice. ¡°Farmboy to Oroboros, over.¡±


    All of them stop to look at it, each with a piece of bread and jerky in their hands or mouths. Rider gets up from the table to grab it, before she can get a bite in of her food, and speaks into the radio.


    Eliza looks at Rider from her spot, then to the only other occupant. ¡°I thought she always wore a helmet.¡±


    Jared scoffs. ¡°You think anyone wants to sleep in a helmet?¡± Eliza looks away from him in embarrassment. Taking a bite of her food again, she takes in Rider¡¯s features, marveling at how similar they look to each other. Pale skin, light blue eyes, freckles and light blonde hair. Her lips were naturally dark, and looked like an anomaly compared to her skin. Her canines were sharp. Her appearance reminded her of something terrifying, and she didn¡¯t want to know what that was.


    ¡°Oroboros here, over.¡± she responds.


    ¡°We have a convoy headed to the market, but the off road route is blocked off by a roaming horde. We need you to work your magic and lead them away, over.¡± the radio sparks to life with the summons.


    ¡°Copy, over.¡± She gets up from her seat, and heads over to her mechanic''s paradise. She replaces the engine on her bike with one mounted on the table. ¡°It''s a work in progress, but it should be fast enough to outrun that thing. But just in case¡­¡± she grabs a dog catcher off of the wall.


    With the catcher in hand, she thinks about the situation for a moment. ¡°A horde, this early? And so far from its hive¡­ What the hell is going on?¡± a herald would be the best option for keeping its attention long enough. ¡°Eliza, you seem eager to learn, come over for a sec.¡± she calls out to her aid.


    She gets a nod in response, as Eliza stands up from her spot, leaving a few leftovers that Jared lazily grabs for himself. ¡°Yes Ma¡¯am?¡±


    ¡°I''m gonna teach you how to use the undead to your advantage. As I''ve stated before, heralds attract chasers, and then those chasers turn into hordes once there¡¯s a large enough group of them.¡± She says, fiddling with the engine block. ¡°If you manage to catch a herald, you can guide hordes like cattle. If this sounds familiar, it''s the same set up Mike has on his walls.¡±


    Jerad cuts her off, pointing at the slave with a piece of bread. ¡°And you were about to be one, before Nigel found a better use for you.¡± He grins at her with a malicious glint in his eye. ¡°Whore.¡± Eliza only scowls at him, but shudders on the inside. With how often Jared visited brothels and bars, and the rumors surrounding him with his conquests, she counted herself lucky to be out of that camp.


    Rider continues ¡°We¡¯re going to catch a herald. And I know a few spots where we can find them. See, heralds don''t always come from humans. While not animals, they can spawn from dens and hives. As a way to ensure chasers cover more ground. Over the years I''ve scoured the area, and I¡¯ve found a den that has the highest spawn rate of heralds. We¡¯re going there first. The horde should be dormant. I was actually already there not that long ago.¡±


    ¡°Yeah and what, risk my ass for a herald? It¡¯d be easier to grab someone and turn them. Chain them up and cover them in zombie grease. Easy transport.¡± Jared replies, leaning in the chair with his feet up on the table.


    ¡°The grease would mask the human smell, basically camouflaging it. And turning someone is too slow, around 20 minutes, and can attract too much attention.¡± Rider replies, humoring him, and Jared rolls his eyes in response.


    ¡°The great pacifist is concerned about something being too slow and easy. Fuck it, always wanted to see a nest up close.¡±


    ¡°Good. This herald hunt is also for you to see a horde up close, so you don''t lock up once you see The Beast.¡±


    ¡°What, in the fuck, is The Beast?¡± He says the last part mockingly, getting up from his spot to start gearing up.


    ¡°The Beast is a roughly two thousand large horde, with around five hundred mutants on the side. From what I figure, It''s the hive blocking the path to the farmlands. Each day it grows bigger. And the fact it''s already active this early is nothing but bad news. The most likely case is they¡¯re getting ready to colonize.¡±


    Eliza tilts her head slightly, confused, looking up from Rider¡¯s hands working on the engine. ¡°Colonize?¡±


    ¡°A colonization is when the hive grows large enough that it''s ready to expand. They send out mutants to find a spot, and once it does, it lets out a howl that calls over the horde. Yesterday I caught a glider that was moving here. And killed it before it could call more over. Another scout must''ve found a spot. See, they usually send out three scouts, to form a triangle over a new deadzone. If we lead the horde away, we can avoid another hive, and with the size of that thing, another deadzone.¡±


    ¡°Right, you two bitches can finish your lesson.¡± He says, without explanation, and heads down the ladder, guns and all.


    She stops him before he heads down ¡°wait. Take this unless you want to get swarmed. They''re also very attracted to sound." She tosses him a crossbow with two pouches containing fifty bolts each. She also hands a set to Eliza. She had four crossbows folded in her backpack, in case she ever needed a ranged option. In case one broke or was helping a survivor who lacked a weapon of their own. Jared grumbles but nods, clipping the crossbow into a hook on the side of his bike, and tossing the pouches into a compartment in his bike.


    After the installation is done, she gets on her bike, and Eliza gets in the sidecar. The platform lowers, and the three set off towards the den.


    Rider arrives first, and she parks her bike a few yards away, Jared following suit but staying by to guard it. ¡°If you see any bandits, silence them as quietly as possible. We don''t want the horde to wake up. Oh and take their gear.¡± Rider carefully approaches The Pharmacy.


    Jared looks around the area, eyes scowling even further than usual. ¡°Bandits? You mean the traitors that ran away or got kicked out? I¡¯ll enjoy putting a bolt in their brains.¡±


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    ¡°Good, then keep a lookout for us¡± Rider says with a dog catcher on her back, climbing onto the roof of the pharmacy.


    ¡°Whatever.¡± he says, staring at her as she peers over the ledge. He scoffs and turns away. Eliza stands under her, looking up.


    ¡°Heralds aren''t active during the day unless disturbed. So catching one at this hour shouldn''t be difficult¡± Rider whispers, extending her arm towards Eliza. She takes hold of it, and gets pulled up. Eliza looks over Rider¡¯s shoulder, mounted on her back.


    ¡°See that? It''s asleep, down in the fetal position.¡± Eliza nods, and Rider can feel Eliza¡¯s heartbeat increase. ¡°It''ll be okay as long as we don''t wake it up.¡± she reassures, patting her on the head with a free arm. Eliza recoils slightly, her mind rushing with unpleasant memories. But, she eases into it. ¡°Eliza, I know it''s a big ask for your first task, but I want you to catch it.¡± her heart beats faster ¡°I know you can do it, you have great hands and even greater potential.¡± Eliza gulps, her bottom lip trembles at the thought of getting up close. ¡°If something goes wrong, I''ll be right here¡±


    Eliza takes a deep breath. ¡°I can do it¡­ I can do it¡­¡± she repeats to herself over and over. She grabs the dog catcher from Rider¡¯s back, and readies herself to climb up. After a few more deep breaths, she exhales, quickly climbing up. She is standing at the edge of the roof. Her legs tremble, but she keeps going forward.


    ¡°That''s it, one step at a time¡± Rider thinks to herself. Eliza raises the dog catcher and readies herself to swoop the leash over the Heralds head.


    But before she could, a gang of bandits rolled up to the pharmacy. Their loud bikes alert the trio, startling Eliza who stumbles over herself and trips backwards, falling from the roof. As she falls, Rider jumps from her position and catches her in her arms. ¡°Eliza! Are you okay?¡± Rider asks, desperately.


    ¡°Y-yeah¡­¡± she says, looking at her tearful reflection on Rider¡¯s visor.


    Jared hides behind an abandoned car, keeping his crossbow trained onto one of the bandits. They each get off their bikes, immediately spreading out to loot the area, and one notices the herald jumping off the roof and disappearing in a mad dash. That same one then notices the two girls, opening his mouth to shout.


    Thwick!


    Jared reloads his crossbow, staring in smug satisfaction as a bolt lodges itself into the bandits head. After a few seconds, he aims up again. Fires at one that had turned around to the noise. Two left. Once again, reload, aim, fire. The other two had already brought up their weapons, mostly tools they had found, a hammer and a crowbar. Crowbar guy dies with a bolt stuck in his neck.


    The last one drops his weapon, shouting out, ¡°I SURRENDER!¡± Jared stills, confusion on his face. None of the bandits that ran from the Kingdom would ever surrender under fear of becoming a herald. This was an outsider.


    He grinned to himself, raising himself up and taking out his sledgehammer. ¡°Good. Now get the fuck down on the ground, hands on your head!¡± The bandit nods, whimpering and complies.


    Rider winces, at the bandit shouting, half expecting a tsunami of corpses to burst out of the pharmacy. ¡°Lapdog! You still got some corpse flesh?¡± Jared asks, keeping his eye on the bandit as the other two come closer, keeping an eye out around him for zombies. She shakes her head, not shouting to avoid alerting the horde. ¡°This fucker cost us a herald.¡± Jared grins even wider. ¡°He¡¯ll pay us back for that, and then some. Get me some flesh, and Slave, loot the bodies. I¡¯m going to keep this guy company.¡±


    Rider lets go of Eliza, and they look at each other. ¡°Thank you¡­¡± with that, Eliza runs off to check the bodies. Rider looks towards the pharmacy entrance, and then to Jared.


    She felt uneasy. But, he was right. Thanks to the bandits, the herald was scared off. ¡°But should that be a reason to turn someone against their will? After all, it''s a fate worse than death.¡± she thinks to herself. ¡°No¡­ but, the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. Circumstances call for this.¡± she steels herself, and peeks over, into the pharmacy¡¯s shattered window.


    The slumbering horde is tense. Jittery. Too much noise was made. Rider looks around on the ground, carefully stepping over the scattered glass, bones, and sticks. ¡°Zombie flesh¡­ how the hell do i get that¡­¡± she thinks to herself, before remembering the chaser who¡¯s head she split the other night. ¡°No¡­ they''re opportunistic cannibals. At this point, she¡¯d already be gone¡­ but, maybe there''s something left¡­ even if it''s small¡­¡±


    Jared finishes up hogtying the bandit ¡°Alright little piggy. Here''s the deal. We were here looking for a herald. And you¡­ scared them all away!¡± he chuckles out the last part, caressing the bandit¡¯s head with the head of the hammer. The bandit winces, trembling and shaking in fear. He even starts to cry. He tries to open his mouth to speak, but Jared puts a finger to his lips and hushes through it ¡°shh shh. Your apple¡¯s coming soon. If you squeal, we all get surrounded by freaks. So, what''s it gonna be! Are you gonna behave, and fix our herald problem, or am i gonna have to play golf.¡± the bandit nods in fear. ¡°Good.¡±


    Eliza looks over to Jared and his display, and after seeing the bandit nod, ¡°personally I''d prefer the quicker option¡­ he might think he can get out of it.¡± she thinks to herself as she sifts through their items.


    Rider, careful to not wake them, slowly makes her way through the horde. She heads to the back of the pharmacy where the chaser who¡¯s head she split open two days ago should be. But, as she finally gets there, there''s nothing but small pieces of bloodied bones and hair. ¡°Damn it¡­ fucking, damn it¡­ unless¡­ could it¡­?¡± She slowly reaches for a clump of hair. ¡°In theory¡­ it should be infected.¡±


    Once it''s in her grasp, she slowly walks back and tries to turn around, only to be met face to face with a chaser. It''s still sleeping, yet, its breath fogs up her helmet¡¯s visor. Almost as if by instinct, she reaches for her knife, but stops before she grips the handle. She shifts her eyes to look at the surrounding horde.


    As slow as before, moves around the chaser and renavigates her way outside. The smell is unbearable especially when the hoarders are present. Necrotic, rotting flesh. The horrid stench of death itself. It''s nauseating, though this time it''s different. Before, Rider would have to hold in her vomit. But after a while she got used to it, and now¡­ it''s something else entirely. Her jaw is loose, hanging open. She¡¯s¡­ drooling.


    However, she makes it out of the hive in time. She sees Jared swing his sledge, and stop just before hitting the bandit. He does this several more times. ¡°He¡¯s trying to break him¡­¡± she thinks to herself. She looks down at the hair clump in her fingertips. ¡°I''ve already decided¡­ I can''t back down now.¡± She walks up towards Jared and the bandit.


    ¡°What the fuck¡­¡± a beating sound is heard. ¡°Shut up, you''ll wake the horde¡± it¡¯s loud.


    ¡°Fuck are you on about hound? I haven''t said a damn thing. Get over here already.¡±


    She shrugs it off, rolling her eyes.


    Jared fakes another swing again just as she steps forward, and the beating is back, harsher, before calming down only slightly. It''s sharp, almost piercing her eardrums. She looks towards Jared, towards what seems to be the source of it. Like a game of hot and cold. And that''s when she sees it. The bandit, his breathing matches the beating. It was his heart.


    His heart beats loudly, increasing in pace, it rings in Rider¡¯s ears, even through the helmet, the frequency never changed, it only got louder, and louder. The pulsating is fast. She tries to shake it out of her head, but then she hears the adrenaline and blood flowing through his body as well.


    Her eye twitches, and the drooling seemingly gets worse. But she takes a deep breath, and finally reaches Jared. She hands it to him. ¡°That''s it? Couldn''t get flesh or bone? Will this even work?¡± she shrugs in response. He sighs hard, and forces the hair into his mouth, causing the bandit to gag and his eyes tear up. His head is kept to the ground by Jared¡¯s own foot, keeping the bandit from struggling too much. ¡°We got¡­ roughly 20 minutes before we have ourselves some new bait.¡±


    ¡°Congratulations, you''re not a golf ball¡±.


    The heartbeat gets stronger, she doesn''t understand why it''s in her head. Guilt perhaps? It was a tell tale heart, and her ears are keen to its story. She holds her breath, trying to escape its grasp.


    She looks at the scattered motorcycles. She approaches one of them and inspects them. ¡°Where the hell did these brutes get a quality motor from?¡± she takes out some tools from her bag, ¡°if these were stolen,  We should have held off on the bait and done some questioning to see where from.¡±


    Jared shrugs, grabbing a loot bag that Eliza had dropped off, and rifled through it himself. Mostly a couple cans of food, a bunch of nudie mags that he throws in his own bag, a few empty glass bottles of alcohol which he stuffs into his bag as well, and general tools like duct-tape, a hammer and a wrench. Those he throws towards Rider, letting them land near her feet. ¡°Fuck all. Alright Slave, pack everything up, strip the bodies, and hide them.¡± He says, climbing onto the roof of the pharmacy, and sits down on it while opening up a can. ¡°And hurry up.¡±


    Rider¡¯s head perks up. She looks toward Jared on the roof, and down towards the increasing groaning of the waking dead. She hauls ass to her bike and stuffs the motor and a few other parts in the trunk of the sidecar. ¡°Get the hell down here!¡± she whispers loudly. Jared looks at her dumbfounded. Until he looks down beneath his dangling legs and sees a few corpses creep out of the pharmacy in increasing numbers. He quickly drops the can, throwing it slightly to the side and attracting a few of the dead, but the rest keep going forward. He jumps forward, his foot clipping the head of a zombie, forcing it to fall over.


    He lands into a roll, scrambling up to run, dodging the hand of a zombie swiping at him. ¡°FUCKER!¡± He sprints, as the horde grows, all piling out of the windows and door, roughly a hundred corpses stumble out. After gaining some distance he fires off his gun at a leaping chaser. The shot blows off its arm and the chaser flies back into the horde, like a bowling ball getting a strike.


    He hops on his bike, and catches up to Rider and Eliza who sped off as soon as he got on his motorcycle. He takes aim at the chasing horde behind them ¡°Save your ammo, there''s too many of them! Focus more on saving your ass before you''re ripped apart!¡± Rider shouts back, his aim is unwavering, but after a frustrated growl he puts his gun back in its strap, revving his bike to speed up.

 Chapter 2 - Episode 3: Generator

    After half an hour, Eliza gives Rider the thumbs up ¡°We lost em.¡± she says with a cheerful sigh of relief. Rider starts to slow down, and approaches a relatively safe zone. On the roads are checkpoints, set up by the military during the first few months of The End. These checkpoints allow travelers to rest up provided the generator is running. After parking her bike, she looks around.


    The place is deserted, there''s a tank off to the side, but it''s cannon seems warped and bent. Ghoulish corpses litter the ground. Dried blood paints the path of chaos. Most of the corpses are nothing but the bones underneath. Some withered, others in poses that tell their own stories. It was a massacre.


    Jared walks over to Rider, eying the tank, before swapping to glaring at her. He¡¯s always been near death, and whenever it was his own fault or his squad for fucking up, he could always fix that. But because they risked their asses for morality, he almost got bit. And yet they still killed a schmuck and turned him. ¡°I almost got turned. I would¡¯ve been a Herald by now if I was any fucking closer to that horde.¡± He smiles grimly, grabbing her by the collar. ¡°All because you wanted to find someone already dead.¡±


    His thoughts raced. If she cared that much about morality, why did she let him turn the fucker in the first place? This was something else. ¡°Even if the fucker took too long to turn, we would¡¯ve had prime bait by the time we reached the farm.¡± His other hand grips itself into a fist. ¡°You¡¯re trying to fuck me over aren¡¯t you? Stupid fucking bitch, you didn¡¯t think I¡¯d see this coming? First you turn Mike into a soft-hearted old man, and then you get him to exile me. And now you¡¯re trying to finish me off.¡±


    She opens her mouth to say something, one hand gently laying over his, to calm him down. ¡°WELL TOO FUCKING BAD!¡± He¡¯s knocked her on her ass, a kidney punch causing her to double over before he kicks her down from the side. With another kick to her dome, she lays on her back, and he stomps down on her stomach, causing her to wheeze out in pain.


    Eliza rushes over as he pulls out his shotgun, aiming it at her. ¡°Slave.¡± He growls out, a crazed smile on his face. Her face pales as she stops in her tracks, eying the barrel. ¡°You joined her awfully quick. Been planning this for a while haven¡¯t you?¡± She shakes her head whispering out a response. ¡°DON¡¯T FUCKING LIE TO ME!¡± He roars over her, smacking her with the butt of his gun.


    She falls over, face bruised and lip split. He puts the barrel against her face. ¡±Come on. Say something stupid. Give me a reason to pull the trigger.¡± His eyes are wide, bloodshot and smile gone. A furious richtor of pain and paranoia.


    Rider lets out a cough, getting back up with a bit of difficulty as she holds her stomach. ¡°You¡­¡± she coughs again, blood splattering on the inside of her visor.¡°...ugh¡­ you weren''t exiled¡­¡± she takes off her helmet, making it easier for her to breathe. ¡°Your king¡­ Michael¡­ your father.¡±  He turns to her finally.


    ¡°He wants to make you a better man. Better than this.¡± She says, indicating the current situation. ¡°You¡¯ve spent most of your life making¡­ enemies... that you expect everyone to be one.¡± She gasps, losing her breath. ¡°Michael learnt that paranoia can kill you faster than¡­ your enemies can¡­ So he chose to make allies¡­¡±


    ¡°If everyone fears you, you will fear everyone in return.¡± Jared frowns, opening his mouth. ¡°Michael doesn¡¯t want you to make the same mistakes he did. He wants you to take over as a better version of himself.¡± His mouth snaps shut, surprise on his face. ¡°He doesn¡¯t want a tyrant, he wants you to become the next King.¡±


    Jared stares at her. ¡°Even then, why would I warn you about the zombies if I wanted you dead?¡± She laughs, with a wince. ¡°Ow. I¡¯m.. here to teach you, not kill you.¡± Jared looks down at the gun in his hand, and sighs as he holsters it, before quietly stepping over to a chair and sitting down in it.


    He sulks in his own thoughts, as Eliza gingerly gets up, rubbing her face. Rider walks over to her, and they help each other hobble to another chair. ¡°We''ll camp here for a while to rest. Some food will do us good.¡±


    ¡°I could use a fucking drink¡­¡± Jared/Rider sigh out in unison. He looks at her, cracking a hidden smile and a cold one, handing it to her.


    Some time later¡­


    After a while of searching around, Rider finds a generator, and gives it a kick. It springs to life for only a moment before it shuts down again. But it was enough. With a few blinding lights from various spots, she found what she was looking for. ¡°Eliza, Jared, come over.¡± she says, eager to teach her new allies. Her eagerness keeps her talking, but her lonesome mannerisms make her difficult to understand.


    ¡°The undead hate the sunlight, they are less active during the day and become much more dangerous at night. Now, normal light wouldn''t do much to them, what really keeps settlements safe are ultra violet lights, the same as the sun¡¯s wavelength. And lucky for us, here we have one with two bulbs!¡± she says, walking towards a portable work lamp. ¡°Checkpoints like these were set up in between massacres. The old world learned too late about the weakness to sunlight.¡± she looks towards the tank ¡°By the looks of it, a buster found its way here and wiped the checkpoint during the day.¡± she picks up the lamp ¡°This little beauty puts out a hundred thousand lumens. Only way the buster would have gone past it and survived was during the day or if it was wearing protection." She hands it to Jared, who was ignoring her during the lecture, looking offended at the item suddenly in his hands.


    ¡°There''s three more around here, let''s find them¡±. The trio splits to look for the lights. Rider remembers one of the flashes of UV light came out of the window of a nearby trailer. Various wires lead into the back, with a couple signs over the front that have been covered in grime. It appears to be a place officials frequented. She pulls on the handle, stepping inside. She sees an open and empty crate with ¡°IRF¡± engraved on its side in blue letters placed upon a table. There''s a set of monitors next to it, despite the non functioning generator, she can see her companions through them. Eliza sorting through their loot bags, reorganizing it, and Jared glaring at anything that seems to piss him off.


    A chair lays on the floor, and on its back is a lab coat. She leans down and picks it up, and reads the name embroidered above the breast pocket. ¡°Dr. Relim¡­?¡± getting up from her squat, she bumps into the table, changing the display on the monitor. A video plays, it''s dated from 6 years ago, 4 years after The End.


    ¡°This is Dr. Martin Relim speaking. Yes, Sir. No, Sir. We¡¯re being overrun- Yes, Sir. Of course, Sir.¡± The tall man in the video spoke through a radio that Rider could barely hear a muffle through, and seemed to be fiddling with the crate from before, holding several vials. He starts arranging them into a padded briefcase that quickly fills up. He takes out one more, staring into the liquid intently. ¡°We have a working prototype already, but we need more subjects, and the Immortui seem to become docile and die shortly after being injected.¡±


    The doctor seems to get more agitated, pacing back and forth with the single, darker, syringe laying on the table. ¡°Yes, it''s only failures and all the subjects have turned and taken over. Sir to be frank, I need immediate evac from Outpost Sierra.- What? You¡¯re leaving me here to die!? After all the work I''ve done for you!¡± He shouts into the radio, but a groan and bang from outside pulls his attention. He rolls up his sleeve quickly.


    ¡°I¡¯ll see you in hell, bastard.¡± He throws the radio to the floor, smashing it with his foot, and injects himself with the darker syringe. He shakes his body around, jogging in the spot to ready himself. And then his body cracks, back arching into an impossible angle, his arms getting bent in and out of shape. A scream tears out of his throat, inhumane and grating. After a minute of lying on the floor, he finally gets back up, clothes torn but his body looking healthier somehow.


    He turns to the camera, a toothy grin spreading across his face, his eyes stare directly into Rider¡¯s. ¡°Project Mephistopheles has been a success.¡± He turns towards the door, his body becoming darker and misty. He walks through the door.


    ¡°What in the hell?¡± The video continues playing, with the screams of the undead fading away. Rider looks to the door, seeing a figure made out of soot splayed across the door. She replays the video again, staring at the doctor, with a familiar feeling in her gut.


    She¡¯s knocked out of her intense viewing by a knock on the door. ¡°Oi! Lapdog! Your slave¡¯s found the lamps. Lets get the fuck out, there¡¯s no food and shelters unsafe. I don¡¯t wanna be here when the horde from before shows up.¡± she gives him a nod, but takes another look at the screen. She drops the lab coat, and heads outside. Rider looks towards Frankie. Eliza is playing with it, moving its arms to make it dance. Rider starts up her bike, and Jared yawns out, starting his up as well ¡°Where to now?¡± he asks, cracking his neck.


    ¡°We¡¯re off to the farmlands, once we¡¯re there we¡¯ll set up the lights and go to the offroad path, there I''ll lead the horde away with the herald, and you pick them off from a distance¡± Jared¡¯s eyes light up at the thought of putting his skills to good use. He shivers in anticipation, and follows Rider closely behind.


    Closing in on the farm they can see a massive horde of 700 in number. Several other undead shamble over to the horde seemingly adding to its number as it travels. ¡°This horde is way too small to be the beast¡­ did it split up¡­?¡± Rider says, looking over the horde ¡°I thought they all moved together, looks like this path is still unused.¡± she looks over to Jared ¡°plans changed, i want to cull both paths, we¡¯ll clear this horde then move on to the offroad after we set up the lamps¡±


    ¡°As long as I can pop some heads I don''t care, let''s roll!¡± he shouts out, riding off some ways away from the horde. Rider rolls up to the horde, enticing them with the herald, and speeding off with the horde in tow. Eliza picks up a crossbow. This crossbow is specialized with an autoloader, a Rider special. She locks in a magazine of bolts and pulls the cranks on the side, pulling back the string after every bolt shot turning it into a minigun.


    She tears off the leg of a zombie, toppling it over, as it topples, some zombies stumble, the weight of the horde snaps their necks, easily clearing 10 with one bolt alone. Firing into a horde claims easy hits, but without precise shots or luck, kills are difficult to come by. Precision comes from a calm state, Jared up in a windswept cliff, picks them off with his rifle. He has 50 bullets, and at the right angle he can kill multiple at a time. And with the next 10 bullets he kills around 20 with direct hits that pass through the zombies skulls, and 17 with a toppled stampede.


    But, like all guns in the modern world, it makes noise, and noise attracts the undead. While too far for the horde to hear, some stragglers who didn''t join in time and are still around, make their way to jared. He takes his sledge, and turns around to face the 8 chasers behind him, cracking the head of one open like an egg. The force from the strike sends it flying off the cliff. One grabs at him, and holds it off with the handle of his sledge. With the closest hand to the head of the sledge, he pushes the zombie to ground, and crushes his head under his boot. ¡°Who¡¯s next?!¡± The 6 remaining chasers rush in to grapple onto Jared, he swings his sledge caving in the sides of zombies heads one at a time. He manages to kill 2 before being overpowered.


    Jared struggles over the 4 zombies on him, his leather sleeves can only take so much, and so can he. The jacket is bite proof, but it does not nullify the pain. ¡°what a fucking waste.¡± howling and cheering ring in his ears, he reminisces over the raids he once held. The revving of motorcycles and engines of SUVs. The sound of chains dangled on the arms of fellow raiders, enslaving anyone they saw fit. He can see it clearly. Only there was something different, these visions felt real. And real they were. A white pick up truck rusted to hell pulled up, it looked like a project car, a Frankenstein''s monster of parts rivaling Frankie herself, farmers with pitchforks, scythes, and shovels in hand drew their attention. One of the farmers has a chain wrapped around a zombie¡¯s neck, he pulls it back hard, snapping it in the process. Another stumbles over to the truck and takes the sharp end of the shovel to the chest.


    Jared, seeing the opportunity, pushes back against the 2 zombies and thrusts the sledge into its head like a spear, punching another in the face with his knuckle studded glove ¡°Holy shit! I thought I was done for! Who the hell are you guys?¡± he says, trying to catch his breath.


    The driver pokes his upper body out through the sunroof ¡°we¡¯re the farmers you folks are helpin¡¯! Im Raylen, i go by Ray, but in comms im farmboy!¡± He had the hard working farmer''s body, his hair was as dark as the night and his eyes were as gray as the static on TVs. ¡°Rider¡¯s little friend Eliza radioed us, she said you were in trouble!¡± Jared scoffs, he hated the idea of owing a life debt to anyone. It usually meant enslavement.


    ¡°I don''t need your help. I''m perfectly fine on my own.¡± he focuses back on Rider leading the zombies. It seems their numbers have gone down slightly. From the looks of it, about 50 short.


    ¡°Really? That''s a shame. Guess we brought the flame thrower over for nothin¡± Ray sighs out.


    ¡°Flame thrower?¡± Jared looks back at them with a sparkle in his eyes.


    The revving of Rider¡¯s bike is quickly drowned out as the pick up enters the scene, Ray runs over several crawling zombies, as the farmers ready the flamer¡¯s gas pack on Jared''s back. A flame weeder modified into a dual nozzle monstrosity to cover more ground during the annual weed killing event. A violent grin is plastered on Jared¡¯s face.


    The truck drives around the horde and Jared torches the undead laughing all the while, while more dangerous, they are short lived. The farmers kill any hoarders that shift their focus on the truck. Eliza¡¯s eyes widen in awe, observing Jared. Seeing the look on his face inspires her, she grabs more bolts from the bike¡¯s saddlebags and fills the zombies with holes.


    After a while a little under 300 zombies made up the horde, the area was littered with corpses. Rider was running out of fuel, and so was the flamethrower. Bolts had since run out, and the truck''s engine was failing. The horde was catching up, and the truck slowed down. Their plan was coming to an end and they hadn''t even finished the job. But Jared didn''t see it that way, if fire was the best way to clear them out, then fire they will have.


    He takes glass bottles out of his backpack, grabs a gas canister from the bed of the truck, pours in the gasoline, and stuffs torn rags in them. ¡°Anyone got a light?¡± he says looking around, and after getting no for an answer, he lights the rag with the flamethrower. He tosses them onto the horde, and burns the remaining zombies to a crisp, it''s a slow burn, but fire is effective. With a horde this size, several bottles, over 10 in number, are necessary. Thankfully the gas can has just enough for the job.


    Rider rolls up to the truck ¡°the beast split up, this horde was small, next one at the offroad site is gonna have numbers in the thousands. Also, I got you guys UV lamps, should shield you from the zombies, set them up here and at the offroad site.¡± Ray tilts his head, looking down at the ground.


    ¡°See that''d be fantastic but we don''t have a spare generator. But, from what I remember, Jones does.¡± Rider quickly grabs her radio and switches channels.


    ¡°jones? Come in, over¡± she speaks into it.


    ¡°Mari-... Rider. What can I help you with? Over.¡± he responds, stammering over his words.


    ¡°Do you happen to have a spare generator I can have?¡± she questions him with a hopeful influx.


    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    ¡°I¡­ no. We don''t.¡± his voice deepened in fear.


    ¡°Alright, thank you, over¡±. She looks over to Ray with a shrug.


    ¡°No, that can''t be right. Could''ve sworn the generator of the old quarters district was still there.¡± he scratches his head in confusion.


    ¡°Old quarters district? What do you mean?¡± She''s been to Jone¡¯s settlement over a hundred times and she''s never heard of it.


    ¡°The old quarters. six years ago it got overrun by zombies and was abandoned. The place is haunted to hell and back, but there should still be a working generator there, just out of fuel.¡± rider sits on her bike, thinking the situation over. If they''re gonna finish the job, they need that generator. She hands over some UV lamps.


    ¡°Set these up near the main path, and run the cables somewhere in between both paths, that''s where the generator will go. But first we have to clear that horde¡­¡± she looks up, they have a few hours before the sun begins to set. ¡°But, it would be better if we split up. Otherwise by the time the generator gets here it''d be way too dark, and the horde would be a lot harder to cull. Although, it is strange that a horde would start mobilizing so early.¡± no real answer comes to mind. But the thought of the zombies evolving to something that can withstand sunlight worries her.


    ¡°Fuck it, fine.¡± Jared stares down Rider with an intense look in his eyes.


    ¡°What?¡± she asks, confused by his sudden words.


    ¡°I know you''re gonna send me out there, basic pattern recognition. I''ll go, but she''s coming with me¡± he points to Eliza who becomes startled by his pointing.


    ¡°Alright, do you know the way?¡±


    ¡°No shit I do. I''ve held raids on that old fucker before you got in the way. Come on slave, we¡¯re gonna go get my bike.¡±


    After a while of riding in silence, they finally reach the fabled walls. Off his bike, Jared looms over the mountain of concrete rubble covering the clearly defined hole in the wall. The wall itself is massive. The very top is covered in rebar spikes in a shallow sea of cluttered razor wire. Every few feet hang unlit UV lamps that aim downwards. Jared looks at the ground, the ashen shadows of the undead litter the hard dirt fields. Eliza walks around the outer edge of the rubble.


    ¡°How do we get in?¡± Eliza asks, and Jared shrugs, looking at the top of the rubbled hill.


    ¡°Climb it.¡± he growls out, touching a piece of debris that makes up the blockade. It doesn''t seem to budge, and so he begins to climb. It takes him about 4 minutes of careful climbing to reach the top, and as he does he takes a peek at the other side. The sight was horrifying. Undead were everywhere, around 20ft in between, only these were unlike anything he had seen before. There stood about 100, not a sizable horde, but it didn''t look like a horde, not really. He quickly radios Rider.


    ¡°Hound, what the hell am I looking at? There are some weird fucking zombies here.¡± there''s no response from Rider. ¡°Hound?¡± still nothing ¡°Dog!¡± he quietly shouts into the radio before realizing ¡°I swear to fucking God woman. OVER!¡±


    ¡°Oroboros here, describe what you see, over.¡±


    ¡°Fuck you. Tall and lanky, around 8 feet. Dry black or dark blue skin, some small shit of red on their chests. No fingertips, just bone, most of them alone or in small groups.¡±


    ¡°Those are Draugr. They inflate their chests and let out a sonic wave. It can send anything its path flying. If it touches you point blank your internal organs turn to soup. That red sliver expands when their chests inflate, if you shoot it they explode, but be careful they''re very fast¡±.


    Their sight now made him uneasy. A deep feeling in his chest, like his heart had sunk. He kept his cool, and started to make his way down. Only it wasn''t as easy as climbing up. Not all pieces of rubble are as stable. And since he can''t see which he¡¯s stepping on, he slips, toppling over a portion of the hill. Being toppled over, the wall is pushed in, making a loud thud with every cascading piece of broken down wall, this alerted the strange undead inside the walls.


    Jared lays on the ground, he fell on his side with a loud thud of his own, his shoulder was dislocated and he could barely move. Eliza ran over to him to help him up, she struggled as hard as she could, but she wasn''t strong enough to lift him up. At this point, several draugr made their way to the top of the hill. They looked around for a moment, though if you could call empty gazing eye sockets looking, you may be just as mad as these monsters. Their eyes are far gone, shriveled husks of their former selves, just as the people these monsters used to be. No, instead their hearing makes up for their loss of eyesight. Due to this, it''s almost impossible to lose them from a distance. Their hearing range is almost deaf when you''re right up close to it, where they are most vulnerable and powerless. Just be careful not to stab its chest, else you''ll explode right alongside it.


    Some of the draugr breathe in, inflating their chests like frogs, exposing the soft tissues hidden in the cracks in their chests. A shot is fired from behind the two of them, it hits one in its tissue and it bursts in a violent explosion toppling over other draugr beside it and some more debris. The two of them look back, a tall bearded man in a leather jacket and cowboy hat stands over them, his arm extended with the smoking barreled revolver in his hand. This, was Jones.


    He puts his revolver away, and kneels down to lift Jared off the ground ¡°come on, son, let''s get ya out of here.¡± together he and Eliza drag Jared behind a large rock. Jones peeks over the rock, the draugr know exactly where they are, but they seem to be keeping their distance.


    ¡°Who¡­ who the hell¡­¡± Jared tries to fight off a concussion, he tries to readjust himself to sit in an upright position, but winces in pain. Jones looks him over ¡°the fuck are¡­ you doin to me old man?¡± Jones lifts up his arm, pulls it towards him, then slams it back into place, relocating Jared''s shoulder. The intense pain wakes him from his near concussive state. ¡°AAAAAAAAA FUCK YOU MOHER FUCKER I¡¯LL-¡± and just as it had appeared, the pain dissipates. He breathes in deeply and exhales sharply.


    ¡°There ya go, you''re alright now. Now, mind tellin me why you two youngin¡¯s are here at my walls? Somethin tells me yall aint here to join my settlement.¡± he says poking his head out just long enough for the draugr to inflate, and kills 4 that stand close with a single bullet.


    ¡°I''m here for your generator, old man.¡± he sits up, and grabs his crossbow, loading it up with a bolt. Eliza follows suit.


    ¡°My generator eh? I''d ask how you knew about it if I hadn''t just told my daughter i dont have it. You must be one of her new friends I''ve heard about.¡± he peeks over again, some draugr are closer now.


    ¡°Wait-wait¡­ Rider is your daughter??¡± Both Jared and Eliza are shocked by the revelation. He fires into the chest of a draugr mid scream.


    ¡°Aye she is. Where is Maria anyway?¡± he quickfires into three draugr beginning to inflate.


    ¡°Her name is Maria????¡± the overload of information might be causing the concussion to creep back. ¡°She''s at the farm, but wait- why are YOU here?¡±


    ¡°Aside from these being my walls, I figured she or someone from her group would be here anyway. I just thought I''d bring the generator out before anyone got hurt. I may be late, but at least I was on time.¡±


    ¡°Yeah i can see why you didnt want anyone here, those things are fucking terrifying.'''' The screaming draugr also attracts some of the straggling chasers in the area.


    ¡°Well that''s not the only reason. I didn''t want Maria to relapse into mourning.¡± with one bullet left, he fires into a roaming chaser, then reloads.


    ¡°Mourning?¡± Eliza asks, firing a bolt into a chaser.


    ¡°Aye. Six years ago she was tasked with securing the wall, but I underestimated the size of the horde, and at night? Even worse. The lamps worked as intended, but she was trying to show off to her girlfriend, Frankie. Frankie slipped and fell into the horde. She dove in after her. I don''t know how she survived, for the next 4 years I thought they were both dead, until she just showed up at the walls naked and pale as the snow. The only word she''s ever said after we found her was Frankie.¡± he takes aim at a draugr ¡°as far as i can tell she''s got some sort of amnesia, any time we tried to bring her back to her old self she¡¯d burst out in tears and scream in pain. Then, she¡¯d just relapse back into her amnesiac state soon after.¡±


    ¡°So¡­ Frankie isn''t her rabbit¡­?¡± Eliza says to herself, and Jones, picking it up, responds.


    ¡°As far as she lets herself know, it is. That rabbit used to belong to the real Frankie, so there might be something to that.¡± he pulls the trigger, clearing a draugr group.


    ¡°So her girlfriend died. So what? She''s gonna cry every time she hears what happened?" he thinks back to the lesbian raiders who¡¯d thrive on abusing their fragile slaves. ¡°What a fucking joke¡± the Rider of legend cant compare to his own people¡¯s emotional resolve.


    ¡°Have some respect, boy. That girl is the bravest person I know. Despite the horrors of the world she still works hard to make it better. If it weren''t for her your people and mine would be in an endless war, and this whole side of the country would be riddled in walking corpses. She¡¯s single handedly cleared more hives than you¡¯ve gone on raids. And that''s just in the last 4 years she¡¯s been back.¡±


    Jared goes to say something, an angry retort on his lips, but frowns once he thinks about it. They haven¡¯t had to go on a raid because Rider and the vultures inspired by her pretty much supply them at this point. Then he remembered the starving people on the outskirts of his Kingdom, the restless faces looking at each other, and the savages itching for a fight.


    His face looks calm, with a dark glint in his eyes. ¡°It won¡¯t stay that way for long.¡±


    The approaching horde¡¯s assault is relentless. Eliza looks over the rock, it seems to be crumbling from the soundwaves. She grabs a broken piece, it''s hefty. She notices the draugr¡¯s faces, and their lack of eyes. ¡°Echolocation?¡± she thinks to herself. She looks at the rock, then at Jones firing his gun. She looks around, seeing some chasers, and decides to chuck the stone at the ground in front of them.


    The draugr immediately turns to face the rock, and she can''t help but laugh when a soundwave sends a chaser flying into a tree. ¡°Hah! Well done, slave. Bastards are blind, go do more of that distraction shit.¡± Her joy dims at the reminder. The look in her eyes shifts, and as a retort, she sprints over to his bike. ¡°Hey, wait a fucking minute! THAT''S MY BIKE!¡±


    His yelling attracts the draugr¡¯s attention, Jared quickly muttering a curse and dropping to the ground.They''re soon grabbed again by Eliza as she starts up Jared¡¯s loud ass bike. She rides directly into the crowd of undead, and at the last second sends two draugr flying as they face each other trying to blow her away. The rest chase after her while Jone¡¯s covers Jared¡¯s mouth.


    Jared pushes him off, and Jones hops over the rock, the younger man following, but the fall from before still has him limping slightly.¡±Fuckers like sound, I¡¯m taking point.¡± He aggressively whispers to Jones, aiming his crossbow at a lone draugr who looks like a lost child in a shopping mall. The small body gets pinned to the floor with a bolt to the head.


    The two venture into the desolate district, the power lines above lead to the main generator. Jones quietly signals up above them, pointing to the wires traveling across. The streets of the district are littered in decayed corpses. Jared scours the ground, looking for anything out of place, frowning at the sight of the many corpses that still have their craniums preserved in the battlefield.


    ¡°I see you have a sledgehammer. Ever tried smashing a watermelon?¡±


    ¡°No? That''s wasteful and retarded. Zombie heads give a better splatter anyways.¡±


    ¡°Well there¡¯s one now. Go on, give it your best.¡± Jones says pointing at a corpse missing its bottom half, the head somehow pointed straight at them. Jared frowns, moving left and right while he approaches it, and notes that its eyes very slowly seem to follow him.


    Grinning, he unties the hammer from his back, giving the hammer a slight kiss, and hefts it up. ¡°What''s that one word for scoring in golf?¡±


    ¡°Hole-in-one?¡±


    Jared smiles, ¡°Yeah that''s the one.¡± He swings the hammer like a club, the speed causing the head of the zombie to detach with a pop, and land in the middle of a tire further away. He coughs slightly, frowning and smelling the air, while moving on. ¡°Is it just me or does it smell like death?¡±


    The further in they go, the harder it gets to breathe. Like a choking miasma entangling them. The smell of rot grows stronger, as they make it to the main generator. At the generator they see a horrifying sight. A lone skeleton sits atop the giant generator, resting on a powered down pylon. Below the skeleton are hordes of charred zombies reaching upwards. Melted cables lay on them, and despite it all, the zombies were unwavering, yet whoever was here was fighting with all they could. A metallic glint from next to the skeleton drew their attention.


    Upon closer inspection, the pair can see what exactly happened. A hole in the side of their head. ¡°The air here, like gas waiting to light. If we turn that thing on, we¡¯ll end up like these zombies.¡± looking around, the surrounding buildings were burnt.


    Jared looks the generator up and down. ¡°No fucking way that thing¡¯ll fit on my bike. Its like the size of a fucking car!¡±


    ¡°Fortunately for you, that''s not the generator we¡¯re looking for. The one we want is a private generator specifically used to keep someone alive.¡± there''s a sorrowful look in Jones¡¯ eyes.


    ¡°Okay so where is it? Hospital?¡±


    ¡°No¡­ I know where it is.¡± Jones leads Jared to a fairly sizable residence. He takes out a keyring from his waist, and opens the locked door. Jared is somewhat taken aback. Jones stands in the living room, and he looks up the stairs for a long while. But they make their way to the basement. Another locked door opened by Jones¡¯ key.


    ¡°There''s the generator. Unhook the cables and carry it out, I need to¡­ check on something.¡± Jared rolls his eyes and kneels down near it.


    Jones slowly makes his way upstairs. He stands in front of another locked door. He takes off his hat, and places it to his chest. Slow whispery breaths can be heard at the other side of the door. As tears leave his eyes, he looks to his right to a table with dried flowers in a dusty vase emptied of water. Next to it, a picture frame. A man with black hair and beard standing next to a blonde woman, between them a small girl that resembles the woman in the picture.


    He picks up the frame and his tears wash away the dust. ¡°I''m sorry, Maisy, I know we haven''t seen each other in some six years. I know my cowardice keeps you suffering. I lost our daughter, and I can''t bring myself to face you. I know you''re not yourself¡­ You haven¡¯t been for a long while now. I''m a failure as a husband, as a father, as a man.¡± The whispering turns to groans, and he holds the picture close to his chest. ¡°I love you dearly, and I miss you every single day.¡±


    He places the frame in his jacket, and makes his way down stairs to Jared, who¡¯s limp makes the generator difficult to drag out. He grabs Jared¡¯s shoulder, and without a word, picks up the generator in both arms. Together they walk out, Jared with a crossbow in hand. Eliza seems to have lost the draugr out in the woods, and is waiting for the two to step out.


    ¡°There you have it, the fabled generator. Hopefully now that we cleared most of the zombies, I can begin rebuilding this lost district, and call it home once again.¡± Jones looks up ¡°it''s getting dark. You best hurry before hordes become active.


    Jared ties the generator to his bike, and picks up Eliza with one hand, and plops her down in the back seat. A growl leaves his lips, ¡°My bike.¡± And he gets on.


    ¡°Thank you, Rider¡¯s dad!¡± Eliza waves as Jared speeds off. Jones tips his hat, and looks back at the damaged wall. He takes out the picture frame, and begins his walk to the entrance of his settlement.


    The two ride off, Eliza still thinks of what Jones had revealed to them. ¡°That was a lot to take in¡­¡± Jared chuckles at her word choices.


    ¡°It''s odd isn''t it. She dove head first into a horde for her bitch. And yet, she came out unscathed. Well, four years later.¡±


    She thinks back to when she first saw her face, that feeling she got then. And remembering her behavior near the bandit they¡¯d end up turning.


    ¡°Wonder if I can use her name like a dog whistle.¡± Jared mumbles to himself, staring ahead, focused.


    Eliza overhears this and pinches and pulls on his ear ¡°With great power comes great responsibility!!¡±


    Jared stops the bike, pulling her off of it immediately and throwing her to the floor. ¡°Listen here slave. You¡¯re that dogs bitch, and while she doesn¡¯t care how you speak with her, I¡¯m Jared, the future King, and the next time you do that shit I¡¯m going to make your fingers into pasta.¡±


    Eliza looks up at him fearfully, squeaking and flinching as he approaches her rapidly and picks her up. Getting her back on the backseat, he holds her wrist tightly, lips close to her ear. ¡°Or maybe I¡¯ll make good on my promise from before she bought you.¡±


    Disengaging, he sits back down, and restarts the bike, a smile pulling at his lips as Eliza reluctantly grabs onto his back with shaky hands, a sob almost escapes her.

 Chapter 2.2 - Episode 2.2: Herald

    Startled by the roaring engines, it awoke. A near miss with a dog catcher, and it bolted. The hard ground below rushes to meet it, and it rolls off as soon as it lands. It runs on all fours, like a primate as the infection courses through its very being. This wasn''t a turned person, at least not really. Like many of the zombies today, this was a hivespawn. Sprouting from the pussing blisters lining the flesh that make up its walls and floors. It''s made up of that melded flesh, several victims who fell to its boney rotten grasp.


    However much like the unnatural infected, it still holds pieces of its human mind. Like the slicing of tendons to immobilize a prisoner, the infection slowly cuts off parts of its humanity that it deems unnecessary. The will to fight back, and the freeze caused by shock, leaving it with a flight response on a hair trigger. And now, soaring through the woods, jumping through trees, over boulders, it does what it can to escape that same rotten grasp chasing after it. They can smell its fear, its adrenaline firing off like a display of fireworks.


    Eventually it loses the chaser, avoiding the creation of a horde. It stumbled upon a road, it sniffed the ground, letting out a click and a tap to check for any traps placed around. It crawls around slowly, until it sees a young man, cloaked with a rifle in hand. The herald ran, but as it did, something in its mind wanted it to stop, to turn around. To defy its very instincts, it felt a strange feeling, and it didn''t know what it was. The thoughts hurt its tormented amalgamated brain. Something wasn''t right, and so it struck itself over and over until something clicked. A feeling of familiarity. In pain, it turned around, staring down the man as he walked by. The herald kept its distance, but followed him.


    The man carried around a photo, and after a while of following, they ended up at a small settlement. ¡°Hey¡­ sir¡­ have you seen m-my dad¡­¡± he presented the photo through the pained stutter. The man shook his head.


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    ¡°You might have better luck at the raiders, if he hasn''t been enslaved then try Jones¡¯ market.¡± The young man was uneasy hearing this, and turned away without a word, and he kept wandering. The herald watched from afar, sticking to the trees. Humans were close enough to chasers that it kept away, but something drew it towards this young one.


    As the days passed, the young man returned to his shack. He sat on his bed, crying into the photograph. The man was special, he didn''t know much of the world, as it was different to him. but, his dad was his guide through it all. He went missing a few weeks ago, inspired by the vultures to make a living for him and his son. But, never came home. ¡°Papa¡­¡± the boy weeps. His eyes shut tight as he tried to stay still, just as his father taught him. ¡°T-the monsters¡­ wont get me¡­¡± he rocks himself, trying to calm down. He was restless.


    The herald looked through the man¡¯s window. A tear leaving its eye. It tries to say ¡°papa is here, William¡­¡± yet it can''t. Only clicks and spaztic movements come out. It hits its head again. And it falls from the trees.


    Once its purpose is fulfilled, the herald is no longer needed by the hive, and is ready to become a chaser. While rare, some heralds momentarily regain their humanity, forcing the infection to rush the process.


    William is startled by the noise, getting up to look around. He readies his rifle. His hands shake, a loose grip. A gulp. This was his first time using a gun to defend himself. ¡°G-g-go away m-monster! I-i- i have my papa¡¯s gun!¡± his shouting was attracting chasers, and the herald feeling this¡­ his father, feeling this, tries to lure them away. But, it doesn''t work. He clicks to get their attention, jumping around frantically. But the clicks turn to groans, and he falls flat on the floor after a jump. A grunt followed by a grunt, leading to a howl. It tries to get up, but it shambles. Its agility is gone. And now it finally understands.


    That odd feeling. It was so clear now. It was hunger. It was pain. It was the first to make it to the house. And the man was caught off guard by a familiar hug from behind. ¡°P-papa¡­?¡± and it bit down, tearing away the back of his skull.

 Chapter 2.2 - Episode 3.2: Sierra

    2 years after The End began, a convoy of military vehicles approached a guarded outpost. One of the personnel signals the first vehicle to stop. ¡°Everyone step out, one person at a time.¡± This was the second batch of survivors they received that month. ¡°Single file, at my signal, pass through the gate, slowly. No sudden movements otherwise we will open fire.¡± as the first person steps through the gate, just as instructed, an ultraviolet light flashes, bathing the survivor. ¡°All clear, line up near the RV, Dr. Relim will arrive shortly.¡± Once the first survivor lines up, Dr. Relim¡¯s assistant, Maren, stands up from the chair beside the RV.


    ¡°Welcome, name please¡± he asks, clicking his pen, readying his clipboard.


    ¡°I''m Dana Kyle¡± she responds.


    ¡°Age please.¡±


    ¡°19.¡±


    ¡°Blood type?¡±


    ¡°I don''t know. AB positive i think.¡±


    ¡°Thank you.¡± the next survivor arrives, and the same questions follow. In total, there were 15 new survivors.


    ¡°Thank you all for answering the questions, Dr. Relim will be in soon, please sit down on the provided chairs. The survivors sit. Family members huddled, crying. One is holding a blood stained collar attached to a leash. He¡¯s crying the hardest. Maren looks at them all, not knowing how to feel.


    Dana sees him in his struggling state, so she pulls her chair closer. ¡°Aren''t you a little young to be an assistant in the zombie apocalypse?¡± he tilts his head slightly in response.


    ¡°I suppose so. Started studying under Relim when he was my college professor, so we go back a bit.¡±


    ¡°Ah so you were only picked out for seniority huh?¡±


    ¡°Well, no not really. I had the highest grades in his class.¡±


    ¡°Mhm. so, what''s he like? The mad doctor type?¡±


    Maren looks behind her ¡°you might find out soon.¡± a small helicopter lands on the roof of the RV, and down hops Relim. He carries a metal case with him. He carefully climbs down the ladder on the side, making sure not to move the case much. ¡°Dr. Relim, the new survivors have arrived¡±


    ¡°Good, after I finish setting up inside, I''ll inspect each of them one by one.¡±


    ¡°We already passed through the UV, we¡¯re fine aren''t we?¡± Dana asks, pulling in Relim¡¯s attention.


    ¡°Yes, of course you are. Perfectly healthy.¡± He looks over the rest, giving a slight squint, then a noncommittal hum.


    A few weeks go by¡­


    A small riot has formed, involving the family from before. Their mother had gone missing. ¡°Let us outside damn it! We have to look for her!¡± The armed personnel block the exits, trying their best to not let anyone out.


    ¡°No one is allowed outside, and please quiet down. There have been reports of a zombie in the area. Do not attract its attention¡±


    ¡°Even more reason to go out and find her then!


    ¡°We are doing what we can, we are waiting for the order to begin the search¡±


    ¡°How long is that gonna take?! She''s been missing for 3 days!!¡±


    The soldiers stay quiet, not knowing what else to say. They''re not used to civilian crowds. The draft was sudden, no boot camp to whip em into shape, mostly teenagers, people who themselves lost family, people who don''t even know where their loved ones are. Anything they try to say to appease them only riles them up.


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    ¡°Look, ma¡¯am, we have orders to keep you safe, we can¡¯t go out and search outside without putting your safety in jeopardy. We don¡¯t have enough forces.¡± The guard commander interjects, being one of the few actually trained military personnel who has had training in dealing with civilians.


    After a while, the riot slowly increases in number as more survivors attracted to the commotion appear to the family¡¯s aid, and then Maren appears. ¡°I doubt she''s outside the outpost. Security is tight and nothing goes unseen. Maybe she''s still inside, have you searched around your camps?¡± he says, pulling away the remaining mob off the soldiers. Immediately they scatter, nearly turning the camps upside down.


    Relim stands outside his RV, watching it all. His arms are crossed and there''s an annoyed look on his face. ¡°Another failure.¡±


    Another week passes¡­


    More survivors go missing, and the sighting of zombies outside keeps growing. People fear for their lives as rumors spread of the mad doctor being behind the disappearances. Even the word of the commander is called into question, as his unwillingness to go against the doctor is shown. ¡°He¡¯s a good man, he wouldn¡¯t do anything like that.¡± He repeats every single time.


    Yet they do nothing.


    The safety of the majority is not threatened over a couple of missing survivors. But the fear is boiling towards a tipping point. Which is why when another survivor goes missing, it isn¡¯t questioned as much as it should be. Until they come back, with tales of the missing survivors being outside.


    The survivors see their loved ones beyond the gates of the outpost, pushing past the guards they come face to face with a shambling corpse masquerading as their mother, father, brother, sister, friend. This is where they all were. How or why they got out no one knew, but fear replaced anger. And as the zombies attacked the survivors, the guards were forced to open fire.


    Hearing this, Relim pressed a button on his speaker system, he was livid ¡°What in the hell is the matter with you?! Don''t hurt my patients, you''ll only attract the immortui! We¡¯ll be overrun!¡± The speakers were loud enough to be heard by the camp, but low enough to be a buzz in the heightened ear of the undead. It was the middle of the night, where the undead were most active.


    The survivors were pulled back as the guards kept up their fire, keeping the zombies at bay. However, the undead flesh resisted against bullet fire, and overpowered the armed guards, as more and more of the horde grew. The infected soldiers turned quickly, muscles seizing up as their mind was taken over. Their fingers pressed tightly on the trigger of their weapons, as they lost balance and fired wildly with limbs twisting and contorting into broken twigs. Everyone around them were riddled with bullets, some immediately reanimating, some taking longer as their bodies mutated.


    A large beast-like roar stops everyone in their tracks, zombies included, as they turn to the forest from where the noise is coming from. A deep rhythmic pounding gets closer and louder, and within seconds, a large almost roid-filled zombie barrels through the trees. 10 feet tall, and muscled beyond belief with little to no holes revealing its undead nature, and blood covering its mouth. A tank slowly turns towards it.


    Fires, and the shell causes the Buster zombie to stand back a bit from the explosion, before it roars in rage, and rushes at the tank. With its shoulder, it smashes into it, causing the barrel to crumple in on itself, and then the entire tank is flipped backwards, landing on top of the UV lights.


    In an instant, the horde redoubles its efforts as the weakening lights disappear, and they ferally push forward.


    Maren and Dana find themselves surprised as they run out of their tent, barely clothed and eyes wide. ¡°Oh crap.¡±


    Maren turns to a groaning noise, finding a zombie running at him. Quickly thinking on his feet, he grabs a steel chair and caves the zombie¡¯s skull in. Looking for a relatively safe path, the couple quickly make their way to Relim¡¯s RV. He bangs on the door, trying to whisper shout for both their sakes.


    ¡°Doctor! Please, let us in!¡± The only response is loud groaning nearby. ¡°Doctor!¡± Once again, barely anything. Until a few seconds later an inhuman screech echoes out of the RV. ¡°Doctor Relim!?¡±


    Then, a face phases through the steel door, a wicked smile on his face. The pair fall back, and Relim floats above, scanning the area. His misty form pulls down to his hands as he lands, and from him, a miasma that fills the air. The undead halt their assault. They stand around Relim.


    ¡°Doctor¡­ what¡­ what are you¡­?¡± Maren asks. His heart rate at 120 bpm. Relim can feel it in his ears. The hunger built up quick, but it died down just as fast.


    ¡°After a year''s worth of study, experiments and wasted subjects.¡± He says, floating above them once more, rising, shining under the brightly lit moon. ¡°I am the result!¡±


    ¡°No..¡± Maren stares wide eyed. ¡°But the brain matter required to do so would be-¡± He lowers his voice, mumbling to himself before looking back at Relim in shock. ¡°The survivors. You used their-¡±


    ¡°Yes. AND IT WORKED!¡± Relim laughs, the zombies beneath him seeming to grow in stature, as they straighten up. Akin to soldiers.


    ¡°I HAVE BECOME A GOD!¡±

 Chapter 3 - Episode 4: Blood

    The pair stop by the farm, all around them are a multitude of mutated undead torn apart on the floor. And a familiar helmet leaving a trail of blood that leads further up ahead. Jared whistles, sweeping off his bike, and Eliza follows from behind, wide eyed.


    Loud yelling and growling echoes from atop the hill the trail of corpses and blood leads towards. Upon getting closer, they see a familiar woman tearing into the flesh of a ginger-haired man. She looks up towards the pair, her face covered in blood and viscera, and hair splayed wildly around her.


    Jared tenses up, unslinging his rifle and pointing it towards her, eyes narrowed as he surveys the surroundings around her while slowly stepping back towards his bike. ¡°Slave. Move. Back.¡±


    Rider slowly stands up, her glitchy and spazztic movements make one thing clear. ¡°The bitch has turned.¡± He aims for her head, but is stopped by the farmers waving their hands and standing between them, before he could pull the trigger. ¡°Get the fuck out of the way. Zombies a zombie.¡±


    ¡°Wait a minute, she hasn¡¯t turned. She¡¯s still on our side.¡± Ray looks over at her ¡°I don''t know what it is, but we haven''t been attacked! The guy she¡¯s, uhh, eating, attacked us, he was controlling these mutants. She saved us! At least give her a chance¡± she slowly shambles over to them. ¡°Please!¡± Jared struggles, his gun pointed at her, this is his chance. To finally get rid of the lapdog. But he hesitates. He clenches his eyes and feels her brush past.


    He opens his eyes and looks back towards her. She picks up her broken helmet, and puts it on, collapsing on the ground. Eliza rushes over, checking on her, eyes darting all over her form in concern. Rider is out cold.


    Hours later, deep into the night, the farmers had set up the lamps and generators per Rider¡¯s instruction. Both the offroad and the road path are now safer. Now their abundant crops and excess slaughterhouse bounties wont go to waste. Having two roads also opens a proper trade route to Mike¡¯s kingdom. Or perhaps, the inverse.


    Rider lays on the farm¡¯s infirmary bed. Her helmet is off, and so is her mechanic¡¯s jumpsuit. Getting a clearer picture of her skin, she''s extremely pale, a hint of blackened veins barely visible under her skin. ¡°She looks just like the ginger fellow we put in the morgue¡±. The doctor looks her over ¡°she doesn''t seem to be a zombie. Or at least she hasn''t become a herald. I¡¯ll keep a close eye on her, you should go and enjoy the celebration¡± Eliza stares at Rider, she¡¯s stiff.


    Eliza looks at the doctor, and nods her head. Jared and Ray are at the kitchens, and she makes her way towards them. Jared is standing on the dining table with several empty bottles of booze around him. He seems to have recovered from his fall. She walks in on him regaling his adventures to the farmers gathered around.


    ¡°-and so I aimed my crossbow at one of those freaks and BLAM! It burst open like a fuckin¡¯ bloon! Easily killin like- Fuckin- 60! One right after the fuckin other- just- BLAM! BLAM! FUCKIN BLAM!¡± he''s moving around the table with a bottle in his hand, the farmers look on in awe of his awesomeness. ¡°Then that old fuckin geezer got flung to a rock or sum an broke his arm, but I popped it back in blase, he- cried like a bitch.¡± He rubs his shoulder. ¡°Amywhay I killed em all and we ran inside, little fuckin slave shit pissed herself scared, I grab¡¯d that generator with one arm and rode back here escaping a dozen fuckin screamers!¡± The farmers cheer.


    Eliza wants to avoid getting in a confrontation with him again, so she lets him be in his delusions. She looks around for Ray, and finds him preparing a feast. ¡°Oh, Eliza! Welcome in, how is Rider?¡± She enters the kitchen, and sees several plates of roasted meats and vegetable platters. They all smell incredible. She finds herself reaching towards it instinctively, but she manages to pull her hand back before her fingers get her in trouble again.


    ¡°The doctor said she''s not a zombie. Doesn''t look like she''s turning into a herald. She was stiff¡­ frozen in place¡­¡± she sits down on a nearby stool. ¡±what¡­ happened? While we were gone¡­?¡± Ray sighs, and begins to recount the events.


    ¡°Well¡­ after you left¡­¡±


    Several Hours Earlier


    Rider observes the two ride off, and heads over to the offroad path, with the herald still struggling and clinging on to life as its lower body was grinded off by rough dirt. The offroad path has noticeably less zombies. Though not nearly enough to make up The Beast. ¡°Theyre split in three¡­?¡± Upon closer observation, there¡¯s something off about this group; not only are their numbers closer to 300, but the mutants among The Beast are missing, from both hordes. ¡°Somewhere around here is a horde that''s made of 500 mutants and 500 sprinters¡± she radios to Farmboy who''s waiting some ways away.


    ¡°Ah shit, think we can take em?¡± he asks, with a worried tone to his voice.


    ¡°I don''t know. From what I remember there¡¯s a shit ton of busters. But if we¡¯re lucky they¡¯ll kill the sprinters with their outbursts.¡± Rider rides towards the horde, enticing them with what''s left of the herald. She quickly measures her surroundings, there''s a cliff¡¯s edge nearby, it leads into a ravine. It is filled with the corpses of chasers, it makes for a good shield against the monsters for the settlements.


    And it was, before The Beast formed. Apparently thanks to its horrific smell, that mass grave counts as a horde, and it attracts more zombies to make an even bigger one. While pits like these exist all over the area, they''re regularly burned. That job was left to the raiders, but unfortunately they put a certain baldy with anger issues in charge. And it never got the burn it needed.


    ¡°Get ready with the flamethrowers, and on my signal torch the pit.¡± The farmers leave to round up their gear and bring in their numbers. And after a while they return.


    Rounding up the horde, noting the farmer¡¯s return, and making sure it''s following her, she heads straight towards the ravine. The farmers look on in horror, she bears no sign of slowing down. ¡°Maria¡­ what are you planning?¡± Raylen whispers to himself.


    Rider looks onward, and pulls the knife out of her boot strap. She readies herself, and the ravine approaches rapidly. And at the very last second, she makes a sharp turn, cutting off the herald¡¯s rope, flinging it into the ravine, and the mass of undead hordes dive head first after it, like lemmings.


    Once they''re all in, the farmers roll up in their cars and begin to light up the mass grave, molotovs, flamers, anything that''ll turn a humane body to ash. ¡°Holy! That was way easier than I thought¡­¡± a farmer speaks up, followed by the cheers of his fellows. Rider rejoins the group, however she doesn''t join the celebrations, as she gets a summons on her radio. It''s Jared. As she explains to him what he¡¯s looking at, the farmers look uneasy. They''re terrified but relieved they are not with the two who set off.


    However that wasn''t the only source of the uneasy feeling. There was an out of season chill in the air. Their fight was far from over. As easy as it was, it was only possible due to pre existing knowledge of the undead. However, what approaches is so far removed from reason, it merits prayer to a God who had long abandoned his people.


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    A puddle of blood formed beneath a farmer. No one noticed.


    SNIK!


    A spear of solidified blood shot up from the puddle, impaling the farmer through his foot and through his neck, separating his skull from his body. His dangling spine showers his comrades in his blood. It happened so fast that they were still mid cheer when they turned around.


    In the midst of their celebration dying down, Rider notices a red glint in the corner of her visor. She narrowly dodges another spear of solidified blood. Only it wasn''t aimed at her, the spear lands between a small group of farmers, and it bursts, like lightning bursting from the ground up. A warped tree leaves the men impaled, like hanging fruit.


    In another group of now shocked farmers, one figure is out of place. An extra head unaccounted for.


    He stood there, with a wide eyed smile, a mass of solid red reaching from his arm to the ground, from which the crimson spear originated. Wild orange hair that seemed unkempt, save for a single rat-tail braided behind him, framing a pale thin face with green manic eyes. He twitched, and the tree of blood retracted immediately to his arm, nearly burying the farmers.


    The farmers around him only gave a single shout of fear before more crimson spears shot out like a grenade, impaling everyone around him.


    ¡°Hello, Revenant!¡±


    And with a mad dash towards her, the blood retracted again, forming into a wall of spears aimed directly for Rider. With nary but a second to do anything, Rider sweeps in a circle, grabbing her bike and lifting it in front of the bloody barrage. The remaining farmers in her group don''t know who to focus on.


    The supernatural maniac laughs, the liquid rushing back to his arm, and then shooting back out the other, this time seeming more like a wave being pushed into the form of a spike. It splashes against her bike, seeping through, smearing Rider¡¯s helmet. She quickly takes it off and tosses it aside. She couldn¡¯t see through it anymore.


    As soon as she could see again, the maniac was inches away from her face, he had broken through her bike. Startled, she jumps backwards, only for him to jump with her, pushing her with tremendous strength into the ravine.


    Rider grabs onto his hair, throwing her other fist into his face, again and again. The first punch broke his nose, the next, his skin, blood flowing, and each punch only drew more and more, the stranger''s face becoming dazed and a bloody mess.


    But his daze turned into a grin, spikes of blood erupted through her hand, and she let out a pained scream.


    They''re still several feet from the mass grave, but it''s approaching fast. He kicked at her, making her let go of him, and to speed her descent, but she grabbed his braid and slammed him into the ravine wall, scraping his face all the way down.


    They both land in a heap atop the corpses, his blood splattering them. The corpses rose with him, as she stumbled back to a fighting pose. The zombies all take the maniacs mannerism and pose, bent at unusual angles and curiously looking at her. Before they all laugh at once.


    ¡°How long can you last, I wonder?¡± She remained silent. Only picturing the slaughtered farmers. It was enough to fuel her rage.


    The zombies all jump for her, and she ducks under one, rolling to the side and out of the way. She looks around panting and wide eyed, eyes flickering up for but a brief moment. She runs parallel to the rock face, using the now walking charred corpses she had just dumped here, as platforms to raise herself upwards. With one final step, she leaps for the wall, quickly using the rocks to try and pull herself up.


    She looks down slightly, seeing a blood spike shooting towards her, and quickly pulls her feet up. Once it digs into the wall, she lets go, and jumps off the spear, leaping with inhuman strength even higher. Her gloved finger scraping against the ravine, her fingertips shredded to bone, the pain agonizing. But she persists.


    The maniac got tired of watching her struggle. ¡°The fabled revenant, now akin to a bug crawling on a wall!¡± He shoots out another spear, the previous having been retracted, but only groans as it misses once again, allowing her to gain more height.


    He jumps up, using blood spears to anchor himself, and then jumps off to reach her, where she¡¯s already clambering over the ledge. He passes her, and grabs her by her jumpsuit¡¯s collar, hurtling her several feet away. A rough landing, followed by several men formed out of blood attacking her at once. She got up, panting hard, she blocked a hit from one but then got kneed immediately in the stomach, she arches over spitting out blood, followed by an uppercut from a fist made of her own blood on the floor sending her back. The blood men then fall over, revealing the corpses of the farmers.


    She tries to get up, but is pinned down by a spear to her hand. The maniac leans in ¡°You''re nothing but a joke! A clown to keep me entertained. I don''t know what he sees in you.¡± he grabs her face ¡°What do you have that I don''t, huh?!¡± Rider closes her eyes ¡°Nothing.¡± he says, before Rider forces her hand through the spear to grab his wrist.


    She bites down, tearing out a chunk of flesh, swallowing it with ease. The maniac screams out ¡°Fuck!¡± before staggering back. He bolts away, a trail of blood leading towards him. ¡°Fucking bitch! Now you''ll get it!¡±


    The sun is on the horizon, slowly trailing downwards, and as the darkness engulfs the land, the pained screams of the missing mutants draw closer. A buster pounds the ground, sending forth a wave of force through the ground that breaks off and lifts massive pillars of stone that shoot up into the sky. It uses its massive fists to leap up and send the stones onto Rider.


    Rider looks up to the behemoth, and moves out of the way, her movements lack care and finesse. They¡¯re twitchy and exaggerated. A line of stones is made in her path, and the buster busts through them. She grabs it by the arm, and with a contest of strength pins it on the ground, tearing it off. She begins to eat it. Another body enters her line of sight and is swiftly devoured. Anything in her path is torn apart with ease.


    She moves towards the top of the hill, following the blood like the hound she is. Under the guise of the dark, the maniac tries to ambush her with chasers, but again. An uphill battle ensues as the maniac rejoins the fight, they trade attacks, he debuts bloodied whips but any lacerations have little to no effect. She uses zombie shields to block the harder attacks and heal with their flesh. She¡¯s a frenzied beast. And the maniac is losing blood faster than he can call it back. She is relentless. And one fatal mistake, doomed him. He woke up the Revenant. The hunger she¡¯s been suppressing for so long.


    The bloodthirst.


    She doesn''t see an enemy to be feared. Not anymore. All she sees is a decent meal. Her brain is fried. A constant ringing in her ears. He''s in tears, she¡¯s drooling.


    Now


    Rider flashes in and out of consciousness, cloudy visions flashing before her mind. Voices fading in and out- ¡°Your blood is unique.¡± A familiar man stands in front of her, hunched over her form, the edges of her vision blurred.


    ¡°My blood?¡± Another voice responded, the man in front of her nodding. Her eyes get tired, and she sees herself somewhere else, more clearer. A small wooden shack. ¡°My blood- My power¡­¡± The second voice again.


    Another place, too unfocused, save for the familiar man from before stabbing her arm with a syringe. And her arm is weird. It''s pale, and freckled, but with less muscle than she¡¯s used to.


    The man has an assistant, a shorter woman with long black hair, however her face is covered in a mask and everything else seems too distant to make out. The pain kept her attention. The syringe is removed and pushed into a vial labeled ¡°Sanguine¡±, and then placed next to a rack of vials each filled and labeled with unfocused words, save for one empty. ¡°Revenant¡±.


    The man again, now wearing a lab coat and badge stands in front of a door with a white glow. He¡¯s talking to her, a hand on his shoulder. ¡°Charles, I only need a sample of her blood, that¡¯s all. Don¡¯t do anything unnecessary, and come back alive. Please.¡± She nods, walking towards the light, and then she¡¯s before a mirror.


    Except it''s not her. He¡¯s ginger, pale and freckly, a manic grin plastered on his face. ¡°Hello, Revenant!¡± She wakes up.

 Chapter 3 - Episode 5: Council

    Riders eyes shoot awake. She hears banging coming from somewhere nearby. A man is standing in front of her. Aside from herself, there''s no one else in the room. Her vision is still slightly blurry, pulsating. All she hears are echoes. And as she regains her hearing she hears a familiar voice ¡°and the hound returns from undeath!¡± It''s Jared. He¡¯s standing in front of her with his gun in his hand. He leans in from an arms length away, and dangles a piece of zombified flesh in front of her.


    The banging continues ¡°Jared! Come on man, open up! Be reasonable!¡± It''s Raylen. There''s desperation in his voice. He does everything he can, but the door won''t budge. Other voices gather around, in support, confusion, and fear of the zombie woman.


    From the looks of it, the two are in a janitorial closet. She''s tied down with chains clamped on to a car battery. A makeshift electric chair, all it needs is a tiny bit of juice. ¡°What are you doin-?!¡± He pushes the flesh into her mouth mid sentence, and she spits it out immediately, she feels sick, like she''s going to vomit.


    ¡°Oh? The dog isn¡¯t happy with her gift!¡± He strikes her with the butt of his gun. She starts to bleed from her brow. She looks up at him, pissed. ¡°Come on you fucking freak, you wanna eat me, huh?¡± the blood trickles down into her mouth. The taste. She tries to fight it, but a slight crave starts. She closes her eyes, its smell intensifies. It''s intoxicating. She looks at him, strange eyes. No emotion behind them. She almost seems bored.


    The blood recedes upwards into her wound, closing it up like a seamstress with worn clothes. Her wound was healed, Jared smiles.¡±There it is¡±. He backs away, pacing left and right. ¡°Just what the hell are you? You weren''t on the map for four fucking years and suddenly showed up outta nowhere. You dove head first into a fucking horde- twice from what I hear! And yet¡­ nothing. Not even a scratch. You came back a freak, even worse than those monsters.¡± Those parts of her history, she remembers, flashes of a woman she used to know.


    And then it¡¯s gone. That same feeling of emptiness and something missing that she¡¯s used to. ¡°You¡¯ve become something powerful. A predator amongst predators.¡± He sits down on another chair, legs wide, back hunched over, and hands clasped together. He looms over from her position on the floor, chains digging into her back, arms and legs. ¡°Now, eat.¡±


    The flesh on the floor beckons her, and she looks at it, blank eyed and bored. The chains shatter around her arms, as she grabs the flesh languidly and bites into it. She stares right into his eyes as she chews, like an animal showing off their dominance. It tastes sweet, and bitter at the same time. Fresh and old. A mix of her own emotions warring inside her.


    Yet she refuses to show that to Jared. ¡°Don¡¯t stop on my account.¡± He smiles crudely, leaning back, with one foot resting on a switch connected to the car battery. But she knew better. His eye twitched when she broke out, he almost got up to shoot her. The sweet smell of flesh is mixed in with his fear, his anxiety. It''s almost intoxicating. She takes another bite.


    ¡°Good dog.¡± He scratches his beard with his gun, staring at her, conveying a thoughtful expression. ¡°Tell me, what does it taste like?¡± Her silence is deafening. He frowns.


    ¡°Talk, Dog.¡± His foot pressed down on the button slightly. The battery seems to hum even louder in her ears. ¡°What. Does. It. Taste. Like?¡± she reaches over, for a second losing her mind over the pain, and tries to shove it in his mouth. The moment just before the flesh reaches his lips, the button is pressed down hard, a thousand volts pumped into her system in an instant.


    As the volts run through her body she lets out a pained howl, her skin rips and tears as protective spikes of blood protrude from inside of her. Jared jumps backwards, letting go of the switch, and is now standing against the door, flesh dropped on the floor. The spikes barely reach him, a massive grin on his face, yet his forehead is covered in sweat and his eyes twitch from each bloody spike near his face.


    The voltage dies down, and Rider falls to the floor in a slump, spikes slowly receding. She grips the chains on her legs and breaks them off. She pants hard, gasping for air, the blood closing her wounds on the way in, she looks down and over herself, confused as to why the blood spears the maniac had, had come from her.


    She looks up at Jared, a gun pointed in her face already. His grin is gone, a stern look on his face. ¡°Talk.¡± He pokes her with the barrel. ¡°Prove to me you¡¯re still human.¡±


    ¡°Zombie flesh tastes like shit.¡± She grins slightly up at him, Jared sighing in a confused manner. Before his face matches hers, and he swings the gun over his shoulder with its strap. He unlocks the door, leaving her to get up on her own. By the time she gets up, he¡¯s already gone.


    Ray rushes in, and tries to help her up, before noticing she''s in her undergarments, his eyes averting their gaze as much as he can while also assisting her. ¡°Are you alright?¡± He whispers in concern. She nods, and he walks her over to a spare room. Along the way, she couldn''t help but notice the amount of eyes on her.


    Fear, the smell still lingered, yet it wasn¡¯t the same. It came from everywhere instead of a single source. They fear what they don¡¯t understand, more so than she did herself. She sits down on a bed inside the room, Ray searching the closet for clothes that would fit her. Yet is interrupted by the sound of small footsteps rapidly approaching and bursting through the door.


    Eliza is quickly wrapped around her, quietly crying. ¡°Thank God you¡¯re alright, Rider.¡± Rider looks down at Eliza, and pats her on the head, smiling fondly.


    ¡°Thank you¡­¡± she looks over towards Ray, a new set of clothes in his hands. ¡°So¡­ what happened? Why did Jared tie me up?¡± Ray looks at her confused, but also concerned.


    ¡°You don¡¯t remember?¡± Rider shakes her head, absentmindedly stroking Eliza¡¯s hair. ¡°After that ginger fella started killing off all our men, and then attacked you, you went crazy, eating him and all the zombies that helped him. Even the ones that were from that huge horde from before.¡± Rider was taken aback. She had trouble recalling these events, but short glimpses soon came to mind. She felt sick. But she managed to keep it down.


    ¡°Well, here ya go, I know it''s not that mechanics jumpsuit you''ve worn for 4 years, but it should be a lot more comfortable.¡± he presents her with a white long sleeved t-shirt with some decal on it. It read ¡°Shirt¡±. She looked up at him with a raised eyebrow. ¡°I got it in the city. Some sort of minimalist fashion trend at the time. Now come on, put it on before you get a cold.¡± She puts it on, it''s loose. Next, a pair of black sweatpants.


    ¡°I swear if these say pants-¡± She says, holding it up and looking all around it, only to find them to be plain and slightly baggy for her. Next, a pair of gray canvas shoes. ¡°Thank you. Do you have a mask or helmet of some kind I can wear? I''m not used to having my face shown¡± Ray shakes his head, but then remembers an old costume. After a while of searching, he comes back with a mascot head. Specifically a giant teddy bear head, from some half remembered commercial.


    She looks at it. And feels its soft cloth. Then she remembers. ¡°Where''s Frankie?¡±


    ¡°I don''t know, I didn''t see it on you when we brought you back¡± Ray says, he knows her rabbit is important to her, and feels terrible about losing it.


    Though, Eliza tugs on Rider¡¯s shirt. She looks down, and sees Frankie in her hands ¡°I was taking care of it while you were out. When you fell over, it got dirty so I cleaned it for you and patched it up¡­ it looks like it got ripped during your fight¡­¡± her fingers are wrapped in bandages. Rider picks it up, her tears drop onto her rabbit.


    ¡°Frankie¡­ I''m glad you''re okay¡­¡± Eliza looks at her with a soft smile, with a little more context as to what the rabbit really means to Rider, she¡¯s happy to see the two reunited.


    The following morning, Jared looks up to see Rider sitting in front of him at the main cafeteria, and he dons a more cautious expression, yet slightly more relaxed than before. Rider pokes at her food, and tries her best to ignore the stares of the farmers around her, with eyes wide in fright. ¡°Don¡¯t eat that, she could¡¯ve infected it!¡± The pair overhear in hushed tones.


    Jared looks at Rider, her expression unbothered. She understands the situation and doesn¡¯t blame them for acting the way they do. Jared sighs, pointing at her with his fork. ¡°You look pretty good for a monster. I¡¯m still surprised that car battery did fuck all to you.¡± He grins in humor. ¡°What¡¯s your secret? Human flesh?¡±


    The farmers gasp at the conversation, whispering to each other. One even looks as if he¡¯s pissed himself. Rider stares daggers at Jared, while he chuckles to himself, taking another bite of his food, which was some leftover beef and greens from last night.


    Eliza sits down next to her, a plate of her own in her hands, who smiles at Rider. ¡°Ignore them. They don¡¯t see how kind and helpful you are.¡± She then turns to look at Jared, a frown set upon her face. She goes to say something but closes her mouth quickly after. She gives Rider a quick glance, and a few seconds later she just lets out a hum of anger and digs into her food. Jared looks pleased with himself.


    Ray spots them and quickly runs over, a sullen look on his face. ¡°Rider, they¡¯re asking for you to meet up in The Townhouse with your.. Friends.¡± He says that last part glaring at Jared, who only grins in return. ¡°They¡¯re having a meeting about the guy that attacked us last night. And you.¡±


    Rider nods, getting up, but is stopped. ¡°Finish your food first. Make the fuckers wait for us. After you saved their asses, monster or no, they gotta learn to give some fucking respect.¡± She looks at Jared in surprise.


    Eliza pulls her back down into her seat, and continues eating, a smile on her face. Ray looks at Jared again, this time confused, who is now ignoring him, digging into the beef with renewed vigor. ¡°Well alright then. I¡¯ll tell them you¡¯ll be there in 30 minutes.¡± Ray nods, and walks off.


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    The settlers stare on, some decide to leave, others approach. ¡°Hey there miss, i just wanted to thank you for keeping us safe and giving us both our routes back.¡± The large mustached man tips his hat at her, and leaves the cafeteria with his buddies who also tip and nod in her approval.


    Rider¡¯s smile gets a little brighter, and the world feels less bleak.


    Later


    There¡¯s shouting from inside The Townhouse, people screaming at each other, and a couple farmers outside chanting. ¡°Get Her Out! Get Her Out! Get Her Out!¡± And they jeer at Rider as she passes them to get through the doors. Once they open up, the shouting inside overpowers the ones outside, Eliza wincing at the sudden noise increase.


    Behind them, Jared slams the doors shut, and follows the group to the ever increasing ruckus inside a great hall with a large table, all the seats filled with important people.


    ¡°This has gone on for long enough! We¡¯ve been too peaceful letting the zombies approach us!¡± ¡°You think the zombies outside are a problem? We¡¯ve got a monster lurking within our midst! Even worse, she¡¯s paired up with one of Mike''s Raiders! And who knows how long before he goes back to his old ways!¡± ¡°Bah! We should be thanking her!¡± ¡°THANKING HER?¡± ¡°She saved our fucking lives from that horde!¡±


    One of them shouts ¡°ENOUGH! We shall talk about this civilly! OR NOT AT ALL!¡± A big beefy black man in doctor¡¯s attire who sits down, looking slightly sheepish after having taken the attention and shouting. ¡°I apologize. But would it not be better if our conduct allowed us to speak with each other rather than over each other?¡±


    A more heavy-set man with a reddish twirling mustache nods in agreement, adorned in a fancier suit. ¡°Aye, the lad has a point. There¡¯s no point squawking like seagulls if none of us can hear each other.¡±  The rest look slightly ashamed. ¡°Speak of the devil and she shall appear. No offense intended Miss.¡± He smiles at Rider, pointing to three seats left at the front of the table.


    Half of them seem to look uncomfortable at the sight of her, and a small part with murderous gazes, while the rest seemed to look kindly upon her. The three of them sit down, Jared with his feet up, Eliza almost curled in on herself and Rider seeming to size them all up with a steely gaze.


    ¡°First things first on the docket-¡±


    ¡°Get that monster out of here!¡± A skinny and tall woman with a gaunt face shouts, wearing a simple farmers outfit, a few of them shouting in agreement, wearing much of the same garb.


    The fancier man coughs into his hand, before starting again. ¡°First things first, regarding the man you fought near the end of the horde attack. What do you know of him, and can we expect more of people like him? Other than yourself, we haven¡¯t ever seen anything like that before.¡±


    ¡°I''m not sure. It is my first time encountering that too. In fact, up until last night I didn''t know I myself was someone like him.¡± she keeps quiet about the memories for now. Although it would answer their question, for now they only seem to be after her, and she wishes not to frighten these people any more than they already are.


    ¡°LIAR! That monster is just hiding what she knows!¡± One of them shouts, pointing at her with vitriol. The bear mask helps Rider hide her expression as she looks downwards towards the table.


    ¡°You think the person who not only opened up a road, but also gave you shit for essentially free would hide shit like that? Don¡¯t get me wrong, I¡¯m all for killing zombies, but if you don¡¯t use them for your own advantage as well, well you¡¯re a fucking idiot.¡± Jared laughs, leaning back further into the chair and looking at the ceiling in slight annoyance. Politics.


    ¡°Succinctly put, even if a bit crude. At the moment, we¡¯ll assume she knows as much as we do. That means we have to speculate from what we saw. Dr. Mann, if you would.¡± He nods to the large doctor, allowing him to get up and access the whiteboard.


    ¡°Well as we know, these new monsters, or zombies, whichever you prefer, only have two cases, the ginger man, and Rider, the one who killed the first. We¡¯ll call the ginger one Vampire, on account of the blood weaponry he seemed to create.¡± He said, writing down notes quickly on the board, with circles and lines linking to different concepts. ¡°Both have showcased increased durability, strength, speed and a healing factor. And they both have a working human mind.¡±


    He writes down Vampire, underlined with bullet points. ¡°Blood based weaponry, directly controlled zombies, possibly through blood as well, blood-clones and constantly healing. Hard to stop, and hard to fight against. Rider on the other hand.¡± He wrote down her name, underlined and bullet pointed. ¡°Doesn¡¯t seem to have any of that, instead, she was stronger over all, and with pure brute force, could eat the Vampire alive, healing any wounds she may have had.¡±


    Rider looks down at her hands in disbelief. The way he talked felt clinical and almost like a briefing. Her entire inner self laid bare before these people, who feared her. She looked to Eliza, who was reading the notes with great concentration, and then Jared, who was distracted by staring at one of the other women.


    ¡°Either each one of these newer strands of monsters we find has unique abilities, or they¡¯re more of the same type. And I don¡¯t know which is worse. For now, we¡¯ll have to study this new strain that I¡¯ve dubbed Mephistopheles.¡± He points at Rider, and she stares back at him in reply, a puzzled expression on her face. That name seemed familiar. ¡°In my own opinion, if we ever get around to having to vote her out, I¡¯ll choose to keep her, so that I may study her without having to endanger myself with another variant.¡±


    ¡°Very well put Dr. Mann, you may take a seat.¡± They nod at each other. ¡°Now, as he said, I know a lot of you wish to kick her out, but we may also learn a great deal from her, especially how to defend ourselves against others like her that may not be so kind as she is.¡±


    ¡°Then lock her up!¡± The same farmer shouted, getting another chorus of agreements. At that point, everyone seems more in favor of that idea. Study her safely and don¡¯t deal with the risk of getting attacked.


    ¡°Very well, all in favor of kicking Rider out?¡± All of them shout Nay, save for three. ¡°And those in favor of keeping Rider, but keeping her under lock and key?¡± They all shout aye, except three voices.


    Rider stares onward to the board. To the people. Her companions. She lets out a sigh, and takes off the mask. There, she stood. ¡°I¡¯ve done my job for all of you. I don¡¯t plan to stay any longer. I¡¯ve lost my bag, my bike, and you¡¯ve lost a lot of your men. They¡¯re afraid of me. And so am I. None of us know who I am. What I am. So I understand where both of you are coming from. I really do. But I have my own business to take care of. All I ask is reimbursement for my lost property and you¡¯ll never have to see me again.¡±


    ¡°Reimbursement? For a monster like you-¡± Jared unslings his rifle, pointing it at the one talking.


    ¡°If you don¡¯t give us what we¡¯re due for saving your asses, then we¡¯ll just take it for ourselves. Now, if you¡¯ll excuse us, we have shit to do.¡± Jared nods to Rider and Eliza, letting them go out first, keeping his gun lowered but ready.


    ¡°And if you want to stop us? Well I wish you would just go ahead and try.¡± He grins toothily, walking backwards and then turning around halfway, his footsteps loud in the ears of those sitting down.


    The men lay back in their chairs ¡°Holy shit I thought she was gonna eat us when she took that thing off!¡± ¡°Eat us? I was more worried about that barbaric raider about to shoot me!¡±


    At the gate, several large men in sunhats wait for the trio with arms crossed. ¡°Glad to see you miss.¡± It''s the men from before in the cafeteria. They seem to be standing in front of something. ¡°I know it''s not much, but the boys and I recovered what we could from your bike, now- it''s fairly fragile, but it should at least get you to where you need to go. Oh, and we got this for you too.¡± She''s handed an old crossbow, it''s metallic as opposed to her wooden craft so It''s slightly heavier, but it looks like it could bash in a skull or two.


    ¡°Thank you¡­¡± a tear falls down her cheek. The men smile.


    ¡°No monster or zombie I ever heard of cried before. Don''t let them get to you. You''re a good kid¡±


    She smiles back, and walks over to her bike. Another Frankenstine¡¯s monster, much like the rabbit. There''s missing pieces, the sidecar is the most noticeable, but she¡¯ll be able to make repairs when she gets home.


    The trio ride back to the treehouse, but before they could ride off together, Jared whistles to the dog ¡°I''m heading back to Mike¡¯s, gonna warn them about the new zombie type.¡± Rider nods and waves as he rides away.


    She''s interrupted once again, by Raylen ¡°hey! Wait up!¡± He pants out heavily. ¡°Long-... ah, long- way¡­ any¡­ haaa¡­! Anyway!¡± he perks back up. ¡°Here, I got you this, it''s my old duffel bag. Since I heard you lost your backpack, this should help you until you find a better one¡± he hands it to Eliza who¡¯s holding onto Rider.


    Rider smiles at him, ¡°thank you, i appreciate it.¡± He gives her a two finger salute before running off. However, Eliza notices that it''s somewhat heavy. She unzips it, and aside from Rider¡¯s jumpsuit, there''s several bagged provisions. Water, and food.


    They finally head out, it''s a long journey, though the bike was full of gas, the engine was somewhat faulty, it would break down more often than not, but through her gathered skills, she managed to patch it up. Leaky gas tank, wobbly bike, though they meant well, reality was the bike was in shit condition. But once she gets to the treehouse, she¡¯ll be able to make the proper repairs.


    Approaching her home, the rumbling of generators catches her ear, causing her to crouch down, while leaving her bike next to a tree. Eliza follows her towards the floor, confused, but on alert. They both get closer, and see several large vehicles, each bearing the signature insignia of skull and a lower fleshy face sprayed on.


    ¡°Goddamn cultists. Immediately squatting when you''re away for a day.¡± she whispers to herself, Eliza picks up on it thinking back to the strange men and women she witnessed kneeling before the caged heralds back at the kingdom. Rider instinctively reaches behind herself, and grabs her new crossbow. It has a small pack of bolts taped on, it''s not nearly enough to take them all down.


    ¡°Shit!¡± She surveys the area. They¡¯re ransacking the only real home she¡¯s known. Closing her eyes for a moment, and taking a deep breath in then out, she gathers her thoughts. ¡°Either I take back my home, and waste what little resources I have, and possibly gather another horde. Or I leave.¡± She looks down at Frankie, holding it in her hands.


    ¡°What do I do¡­?¡±


    The rabbit¡¯s head flops backwards, looking up at the sky.


    ¡°Yeah. I thought so too. We can¡¯t win.¡±


    The duo leave, they mount her bike, and set off. Past jones. Past mike¡¯s. Past the farm. She did what she could. Monsters are chasing her, she''s back down to nothing but a rabbit, a scrap bike. Only now, she¡¯s not alone.

 Chapter 3.2 - Episode 4.2: Mephistopheles

    ¡°The word ¡®Mad¡¯ doesn''t even begin to describe the man who started it all.¡± a familiar large man speaks, he seems to be talking to someone. The room was dark, illuminated by nothing except his cigar. ¡°I wasn''t there at ground zero. But I was there afterwards. It started out as a joke. Admittedly it was a really bad one, all things considered.¡± he chuckles to himself before blowing out some smoke. He leans forward from his seat. ¡°I told him, what if we fought fire with fire? Use the infection to cure all this shit. Damn shame he wasn''t the only one hearing my stand up material. It was absurd, I thought nothing of it.¡± he sighs out. ¡°Tsk.¡± He holds the cigar between his fingers. ¡°Next thing I know, the bastard¡¯s already synthesizing the damn thing into reality. Not only that, we got contracts to try and weaponize it, to create supersoldiers." He stays quiet for a moment.


    ¡°The fucked up part is¡­ it worked. I only found out after they dragged him and then her into my clinic. We went from outpost to outpost distributing the serum as a ¡®cure¡¯. Trying to find a way to make it work after a series of trial and error. They all died in the process, now there''s thousands of zombies out there with that shit in their system. Wouldn''t be surprised if the hives grabbed it too. I don''t know how he managed to get it to finally work¡­ but, now I fear there''s probably more of them out there thanks to our failure. Incomplete, more dead than human.¡±


    A small group of runners are huddled, back to back, some holding weapons made from scrap, others holding crossbows. There are 4 of them, the leader of this group seems to be a tall man. He¡¯s accompanied by a young man, and a woman. Among them is a mysterious figure wearing a set of Joseon armor, a mask covering their face.


    They''re carefully descending into the depths of a hive. As they go forward, the walls of the hive get tighter, the fleshy bleeding walls harden the deeper they go. Patches of fatty tissue appear, and clot-like webbing sprawls all around. These webbings move almost as if they are alive. And as the group brushes past, the webbings send these signals all throughout the hive. Blisters deep within burst out in puss, birthing the defending army.


    One by one, the birthed undead are snuffed out; what they''re looking for is the hive¡¯s core. The literal heart of the hive. Each hive is built differently, so this core won''t always be in the same place.


    Or even look the same.


    Reaching the end of the hive, they see it. The heart. Manifested as a young woman.


    Usually, if people are used as hearts for the hive, they deteriorate almost immediately as it serves as the first round of flesh of the undead. But the heart was intact. They thought her dead, until she spoke. ¡°Ff¡­fruhh¡­¡± it was barely intelligible, but it was different enough from the undead they''ve seen so far. The group quickly rushes over to her, carefully carving her out of the hive wall.


    She falls onto the men of the group, and the women keep an eye out, guns at the ready. They move forward, the group so far has been quiet. Any noise they make could get them swarmed. The woman on their backs has her eyes closed, she seems to be out cold.


    As much as they want to smash open the pussing pods of incubating undead, they restrain themselves, not wanting to put the survivor or themselves in danger considering their current burden, they''re in no condition to fight.


    Later¡­


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    The woman wakes up on a bed of the group¡¯s camp. It seems in her unconscious state she was cleaned up and treated to. She looks around, dazed and confused. She shucks off the bed sheet, and stands up, walking through the folds of the tent. Outside she sees the group sitting around a campfire. She¡¯s weary, keeping her distance.


    They spot her, and three of them stand up to greet her. The two men and the woman. Their differences in height make them seem like a staircase, with the man as the tallest, and the woman as the shortest. The woman has a light tan to her skin and dark eyes, the two men are pale and blonde, they almost seem like brothers, but it''s distinct enough that one can tell otherwise.


    ¡°Good morning, miss. Are you alright?¡± the tall man asks, he has a southern drawl to his voice.


    The dazed woman doesn''t respond. Only looking each of them over frantically.


    ¡°Shes acting like a fucking zombie, i told you we should¡¯ve popped her when we had the chance, you fucking pussy.¡± The woman is rowdy.


    ¡°Calm down Jane, poor girl¡¯s probably terrified. We did just rescue her from a hive.¡± the shorter man says, he seems kinder than the rest.


    ¡°Okay how about we break the ice then?¡± the tall man says, trying to ease the situation ¡°I¡¯m Walker, He¡¯s Eliott, She¡¯s Jane, and the one back there is¡­ Kim.¡±


    After a pause, the man speaks again ¡°so¡­ what''s your name?¡±


    The woman stays quiet.


    ¡°Ah fuck shes not retarded is she?¡± the rowdy one blurts out.


    ¡°Well we don''t know yet, give her some time.¡±


    ¡°Fuh..¡±


    The group looks towards her.


    ¡°Fuhhra¡­¡±


    The woman then grabs her head in pain, falling to the floor in a fetal position.


    ¡°H-hey! What''s wrong?!¡±


    Images flashes through her head, being ripped and torn apart by a horde of zombies, being eaten alive. Rising up amongst them. A shadowy man. A laboratory. Broken glass, a familiar woman left behind a glass of her own. Running. Running. Another horde.


    She can''t stand it.


    She screams out.


    Just then, Kim stands up, taking off her mask. Her face is rotten. She lifted up a survivor by one hand, infecting him and tossing him like nothing over to the woman. The man then bursts into blood, tendrils, and gore. The tendrils cover the area, another passing survivor steps on one, and falls to the ground screaming just like the woman had, then his screams turn guttural, and into a horrid howl. The man stands up on all fours, twisting and contorting wildly, he runs towards another and tears out his throat, spreading the infection more. Fearing this, the woman crawls away, managing to stand up, and runs clear into the forest, leaving behind the screaming survivors behind her.


    However, something inside her, her very will, is telling her to stop, to turn back, to help them. But her fear is too strong. It overpowers her easily. As she runs and runs, she cries all the way, only stopping to hide within nests from chasers. She ran for hours. Her bare feet started to bleed, her knees got sore. She was aimless. Until she heard it. ¡°I will guide you¡­¡±


    She felt peace, at ease.


    She ran further still, until she reached it. A memorial. Flowers, candles, two photos, each containing familiar women. And a stuffed rabbit. ¡°Frankie¡­¡±


    She picks it up, and huddles by the memorial, falling fast asleep.


    A familiar man looks on in horror and anguished relief. ¡°M-Maria¡­?!

 Chapter 3.2 - Episode 5.2: Cult

    A few days after The End, some fanatics and preachers of the end times revered the massacres as a culling ordained by God, allowing hordes to storm safe zones with lifeless, bloodied smiles, calling it retribution. They named it The Cleansing.


    Today, however, these ideologies have become perverted, shifting their worship from God to the undead themselves. This change was due to a man who was half-undead and half-human, calling himself a god.


    These cultists go around making it easier for the undead to take over, clearing out survivor camps, taking prisoners to convert, scarring and scalping them beyond recognition, leaving them just barely alive so they can undergo their own transformation into what they believe to be a pseudo-undead state. In reality, the state they enter¡ªif they even survive the process¡ªis akin to the abandonment of one¡¯s own will and survival instincts, craving death as an escape from the torture. They expect to die, but they don''t. This is what a pseudo-undead is: a lifeless husk that can think and craves violence as a way to seek revenge for what was done to them.


    Sometimes, however, those who weren''t born into the ideology, the indoctrinated, manage to snap out of it.


    A flock of cultists drives down the open road beyond the forest, passing by a gas station. They see a beheaded glider and fall to the ground to worship it. A deep, intense sadness fills them. They celebrate its undeath by crucifiying it and parading it around. Among them is a woman in her early thirties, and she and a few others spot ¡°The Demon¡± riding by¡ªa dark figure with protruding horns atop its shadowy head. It rides in on a mechanical steed that lets out a monstrous roar.


    The cultits turn to face the fiend, howling before blowing their warhorn. Their fleet of madmen appear to take charge, but the noise they make attracts a fierce deity. It appears, towering over the trees toppling any that stands in its way. ¡°URA HAS AWOKEN! IT REQUIRES SACRIFICE!¡± The woman falls to her knees in prayer and the others around her stand in awe.


    It follows the noise raging into a blaze, while the remaining cultists carry the beheaded glider back to their base. One takes a look behind her, beholding the carnage caused by the giant beast. Limbs thrown apart like confetti, cars turned into abstract sculptures and towering trees put down to size. It wasn¡¯t undeath, it was pure total chaos. It was torture by their own gods.


    Five lonesome cultists traversed through desolate towns, footsteps echoing against the crumbling walls overgrown in flesh and flora. Their symbol of devotion to the glory of the undead carried above them up front. The woman¡¯s eyes flicker with a glimmer of clarity as the dangling corpse above her inched closer with every bounce in the group leader¡¯s step. She felt a light tinge of guilt.


    She remembered helping make a similar symbol. This one, was made by The Demon, beheading a helpless undead. But the ones from before, she could remember it with painstaking clarity. The man screamed all the while as he was chopped into bits, chants echoing in her memories. The way he sobbed, and- She looked away from the zombie.


    As the group moved from ghost town to the next, they remained vigilant. However, amongst them, a cult member had noticed how the woman had looked at the glider. He kept a close eye on her. He noticed her hesitation, the way she looked at the decaying buildings with a sense of recognition and sorrow. It was clear she was beginning to remember her past life. the one before the cult had taken her.


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    One night, as they camped in the ruins of an old church, the man approached the others ¡°Our sister is slipping, my brothers.¡± he whispered, his voice filled with urgency. ¡°We must restore her faith to our cause before she becomes a threat to our mission.¡± the others nodded in agreement after observing her closely as she slept. They gathered around her, chanting their sacred hymns.


    She awoke with a shriek, the one who told them of her staring her down. Their faces were inches apart, and he had a sickening smile upon his visage. They had grabbed her, holding her down, as the squad leader brandished his cleaver. ¡°DON¡¯T DO THIS, PLEASE! THE UNDEAD GODS DON¡¯T BELIEVE IN OUR CAUSE, THEY ONLY WISH TO CAUSE PAIN!¡± She screamed, but her words were almost silenced by the droning of the group''s chanting. ¡°THEY WISH TO TORTURE US NOT FREE US!¡±


    He stopped, cleaver held against her bare skin, slowly tracing down her face. He thought upon her words. Traitorous as they seemed, he thought upon them nonetheless. He remembered his past life, the false life. How the sheep spoke of souls trapped in the undead flesh. Eternally in pain. He frowned, as the chants around him seemed to grow hollow, no longer comforting him.


    ¡°What are you waiting for brother! Mark her with our cause!¡± the leader looked down at his knife, to his brothers, to his horrified sister, and to the glider. ¡°Do it!¡± the leader looks down. Closing his eyes tightly. And began to carve out around her face. From her chin, circling around to the bridge of her nose, and back down to her chin once more. Her pained screams pierced his very soul.


    As the days turned into weeks, the groups continued their journey towards the heart of their cult, her moments of clarity grew more frequent after carving. And the leader found himself drawn to her. He stared back in regret. Her face never left the sight of ground, trying to mask her thoughts before she is re-indoctrinated once again. The pain stings, and worse when her grimey hands wipe off the seeping blood that leaves a trail from the church. The leader¡¯s own brainwashing unravels with each passing day. When she looked up for a moment, he saw in her eyes a reflection of his own doubts. Each starting to remember the lives they had both lost.


    The man who had noticed, noticed more. He sensed the leader starting to slip as well. He tried to preach to the group leader, to reason. But, the more he did, the more he resisted. She overheard, and what they knew from years of service to the cult slowly creeped back into their minds for a moment before vanishing once more. A cycle of brainwashing and awakening. An endless loop of devotion and doubt. And devotion had lost.


    He felt a connection to her. Deeper than the cult, deeper than the crave of freedom. He knew he had seen her before. How he felt was unmistakable. The past they had both tried to recall, was one in the same. He carried the cross in one arm, and with a free hand, he felt around his ring finger.


    He missed her.


    They finally reached the outskirts of the deadzone. The towering ruins cast long shadows over them. The miasma acts like a wall dividing it from the outside world. The man who noticed, and the man who hadn''t, they both breathe it in. The leader and the woman stayed behind. They shared a silent understanding. They knew that breaking free from the cult would not be easy. But, they were determined to reclaim their identities, even if it meant facing the wrath of their former comrades.


    It was a chance to break free and find a new path. One that led away from the darkness and towards the light of their long forgotten past. They looked at each other. And the leader slammed down the glider onto the cultists in front, the arms of the cross pinning them down beneath the unliving dead.


    The leader grabbed the woman¡¯s hand, and together they ran, and ran. Until their bare feet bled, and then they ran some more.


    But, that was only a dream they shared.

 Chapter 4 - Episode 6: The Knight

    Deeper in the desert, the faulty bike is loud, yet not a single hair or hide of a zombie has shown itself. Looking back, she notices a pack of wolves up on a cliff, far enough that she can''t hear them. But she knows what they are. ¡°Hunters¡±. They move to the sides, allowing a larger one to make its presence known, dark, bloodied and hungry. This was a Charger, the leader of the pack. It reminded her of the bear from before, yet somehow more intelligent.


    A hunter throws itself at the bike, bashing it with its shoulder. It makes the bike wobble but Rider manages to stabilize it. Eliza grabs the crossbow, opens the attached pouch, and pulls out a bolt. She loads it and does her best to aim at the charger who''s getting ready to jump at them. However, the charger feints it, instead of into them, it jumps over them, distracting them from the hunter who grabs the crossbow with its teeth and flings it away.


    Another hunter gnaws at the back wheel forcing it to a halt, the pair are sent flying forward. The pack circles around the pair, weighing their options. Who to tear apart first. Suddenly one snaps their focus to Eliza, seeing easier to take out smaller prey. It lunges in, and Rider jumps in front to protect her. Only, she doesn''t feel the rotten fangs. Instead, she hears heavy breathing muffled through metal.


    Eliza¡¯s eyes widen, as she sees a literal Knight in Shining Armor. The man stands before them, sword and shield in hand. The wolves pile on, but he slams one away with the shield, and slashes through another with his sword. The charger looms, its pussing yellow eyes narrow and range, showing off what truly differentiates charger from hunter. Its veins bulge and its muscles expand. Its drool is a dark orange. In its ravenous state, it picks up a hunter with its teeth and throws it at the knight. The knight slices through, but is hit by a quick follow up attack.


    The charger picks up the knight by the leg, denting his armor with deep gashes, however the man underneath is unharmed. He strikes the charger on the head with the pommel of his sword, stunning it for but a brief moment. This small window was enough for the knight to quickly turn his word around and stick it in its mouth, prying it open, freeing himself. He jumps out, stabbing its eye with the edge of his shield and runs to the pair. He picks them both up with ease and hightails it out of there while he still has time.


    The knight runs, his stamina reserves apparently infinite. Rider looks at Eliza who¡¯s on the Knight''s other shoulder. She raises an eyebrow, and Eliza shrugs. Rider taps on his back ¡°i¡­ think we lost it. You can put us down now.¡± the knight is panting heavily, it echoes in his helmet, that in combination with his heart, he can''t hear or feel a thing. ¡°Hey! Bucket head!¡± she knocks on his helmet, startling the knight. He stops in his tracks.


    ¡°Huh? Oh! My apologies, are you ladies alright?¡± He puts them down, and sits down on a large rock to catch his breath.


    ¡°Um, yeah we-¡± she looks at Eliza, she gives a thumbs up ¡°-we¡¯re alright, more importantly, are you okay? You look like you''re about to pass out.¡± Eliza takes out a bottle of water from the duffel bag, and hands it over to him, he gives a slight bow in appreciation, and takes it. He takes off his helmet, revealing a dark haired man with stubble on his face. Despite his english accent, he looks to be asian. He unhooks a cup attached to his waist, and pours in a bit of water, handing back the bottle.


    He takes a sip, and sighs out ¡°ahh that hit the spot!¡± He wipes away some blood from his lap, and sets the cup down on it. ¡°I appreciate it! And yeah, i''m alright, just, not used to running for so long in this thing¡­ and the extra weight¡­! Ah- sorry! I don''t mean you two i¡­¡± he puts his hand over his face. He extends his hand ¡°I¡¯m Kim¡±.


    Rider shakes his hand ¡°I¡¯m Rider.¡± His metallic grip is gentle, yet firm.


    Eliza shakes his hand, and immediately pulls back, his metallic grip was scalding. She waves her hand to cool it off. ¡°Ah!! I''m sorry! Are you alright?¡± he asks, immediately getting up.


    Eliza nods ¡°I''m Eliza, and I''m okay, just very hot!¡± He looks down at his armor, then to Rider who''s staring intently at Frankie.


    ¡°It is a pleasure to meet you both. What are you two doing out here in the deadzone¡¯s outskirts if you don¡¯t mind me asking?¡± He signals at the pair to follow him, and after looking at each other, they do. Rider stares back at her demolished bike. The charger seems to be thrashing it around like a chew toy.


    ¡°I just needed to get away from the mainland. This seems like the best spot so far. Quiet, far away from the cultists and villages.¡± Kim is curious by what she means, but, due to personal experience he knows better than to pry.


    ¡°Ah unfortunate news for you then ma¡¯am. If by cultists you mean the zombie worshippers, then there are a lot of them spread across several encampments. They seem to think of the dead zone as their holy ground.¡± He says with a slight inflection of annoyance. ¡°Even worse, they¡¯ve started to get more bold with their rituals.¡±


    ¡°Bold how?¡± Eliza asks, ¡°How much bolder can those freaks possibly get?¡±


    ¡°Out here, I used to trade with a small settlement, no more than two hundred. The people were friendly and hardworking folk, until a group of folks came by. No one knew who they were, but the friendly people of the town welcomed them with open arms. Gave them food, water, shelter. But a week or so into their stay, they turned. The settlers, I mean. Turns out the folk would drop fingers into the water supply. Hell, I even found a whole head. But that''s not what''s bold, what is is what came after. The horde grew in numbers, folks would turn so fast they skipped the herald stage.¡±


    ¡°Then the cultists showed up. They- they desecrated the corpses. Sated their own lusts with the flesh of the undead. Those of us who survived were branded.¡± The knight shudders, taking a deep breath to steady himself. ¡°I managed to escape. But sometimes I wish- nevermind, sorry.¡± He regains himself. ¡°After I recovered my gear, I put an end to their disgusting ritual.¡±


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    ¡°I''m sorry you had to go through that. Though I wonder how they keep managing to get so close to the undead without being attacked themselves.¡± Eliza ponders, thinking of his retelling. ¡°Also, what''s with the suit of armor? Are you from the dark ages? How old are you?¡±


    ¡°Ha-hah! Oh no no, I used to be a museum curator, one of our displays was this suit and sword. This set belongs to Sir Night, no one knows his name, only that he would appear in the dead of night to resolve any issues the king or populace had.¡± The knight shakes his head. ¡°And for your information, I¡¯m only 37.¡°


    The trio arrives at a short cave. Inside is a bed, a dead fire pit, and a collapsible chair. ¡°This is my resting spot. You can stay as long as you¡¯d like!¡± Rider looks around, there doesn''t seem to be any transport options nearby.


    ¡°Did¡­ you walk here?¡± she asks, puzzled by his circumstances.


    ¡°Yup! I walk, run, jog everywhere as long as my legs can take me.¡± a smile fills his face as he takes off his chest piece. A skin tight long sleeved shirt underneath. He grabs his collar and starts to ventilate himself.


    Rider gets a summons on her radio shortly after she sits down next to Eliza near the now lit fire. ¡°Hey dog! Where the hell are you? We cleared out your house with the cultists fucks, but you¡¯re not here!¡± A muffled voice causes him to shut off the radio for a second.


    It comes back to life soon after. ¡°Shit! There¡¯s more of those freaks. Look, tell me where you are when you can, me and the boys can¡¯t defend your place forever, so we¡¯re moving on.¡±


    Rider stares at the Radio.


    ¡°Bitch. If you make me say ¡®over¡¯ I will smash your fucking bike.¡±


    ¡°Im somewhere in the desert, headed towards the city deadzone. And a charger already beat you to it.¡±


    Silence for a few seconds. ¡°Lucky bastard. Look, I know of a stash house we left behind near the deadzone before a few cultists took it over. Head towards the Eastern Motel if you can find it on a map.¡±


    ¡°Where the hell is that?¡± She asks, yet the radio goes silent.


    The knight finally seeing the conversation is over, chimes in.


    ¡°Oh that''s not too far away, I can take you ladies if you¡¯d like.¡±


    The radio crackles to life, sounds of gunfire in the distance and screaming. ¡°FUCK, get there as soon as possible. I don¡¯t know who that pompous fuck you¡¯re with is, but if he knows, he knows. COME GET SOME MOTHERFUCKER-¡±


    Kim looks at the radio with an incredulous look on his face. ¡°That man, he wouldn¡¯t perhaps happen to be part of the Raider Kingdom by any chance?¡±


    The tone of the question alarms Rider. She knows their reputation, she knows his. ¡°Why do you ask?¡±


    ¡°There¡¯s only three groups that have owned that place. The government, the raiders and those vile cultists. He¡¯s clearly not the latter, and he¡¯s too rowdy to be the first.¡±


    Rider stares at the man sitting across from her. The fire crackles and pops, only adding to her deafening silence. Eliza looks to Rider, then to Kim. ¡°a staring contest¡± she thinks to herself.


    ¡°He¡¯s my student.¡± Rider breaks her silence, and Kim¡¯s intensity dies down for a moment.


    ¡°Student, eh?¡± Kim slowly slides his hand over to his blade. Rider doesn''t pick up on it, but Eliza however, does.


    ¡°It''s true! He and I lived pretty sheltered in our settlement so she''s showing us what the zombies are like and how to deal with them!¡± Eliza says giddily, her eyes tighten, a pseudo flinch. Kim¡¯s hands move forward as he leans into the pair ahead of him. He interlocks his fingers.


    He looks to Eliza then quickly to Rider. ¡°Would you mind teaching me what you know as well?¡±


    A slight smile cracks on Rider¡¯s face. ¡°Sure¡±


    Up to now, almost all lectures have been hands-on and in the field. Eliza is excited to learn, and happy to be out of danger for it. The duo, Eliza and Kim, pass the time learning about the undead, Rider acts out zombie mannerisms, peekaboos, busters, flamers, bloaters, gliders, draugr and many more all while making their way towards the safehouse. She acts out how to properly deal with each of them with Kim¡¯s help.


    The sound of roaring motors slowly gets louder, grabbing the trio¡¯s attention. They walk outside of the safe house to see that Jared isn''t anywhere nearby. They look around ¡°What the hell?¡± the wind picks up. Eliza tugs on Rider¡¯s shirt. She looks down towards her. Her eyes are wide in fear as she''s fixated on a terrifying sight above.


    A massive helicopter hovers above them. It''s black, with missiles, gun barrels, and a turret on the open door. The tail of the heli reads ¡°IRF¡±. It shines a UV light onto the group for a few seconds. After seeing almost no reaction, it speaks. ¡°Survivors. Clear the area.¡±


    After the speaker goes off, a horde can be heard at a distance. It flies off towards it, and fires a missile at the densest part. The horde is gone, the only traces left are the entrails that land near their feet.


    The chopper flies into the deadzone.


    Jared radios in. ¡°Holy shit! Please tell me you fucking saw that!¡± He sounds excited ¡°I gotta get me one of those babies!¡±


    ¡°I did, are you close?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, pulling up now.¡± Jared and 2 others park their bikes. He looks towards Kim from head to toe. ¡°Huh¡±. then faces Rider. ¡°Got you a new bike. After we cleared your place I grabbed an engine from your shop and had my mech outfit a bike with it." He hands over the key, but before she can grab it he pulls it away. ¡°This is a gift from me, if you break this one, I will break your legs.¡± She nods ¡°Good, glad we understand each other.¡± He gives her the key. Two keys each with its own keyring hooked to each other.


    The bike is a dark gray, it has a set of yellow stripes on the sides of the gas tank, each ending sharply. It almost looks brand new.


    ¡°Thank you.¡±

 Chapter 4 - Episode 7: The Deadzone

    Later on, everyone finds themselves idling inside. Jared, his men. Eliza, Rider. And the newest addition to the group, Kim. Jared is checking over, making sure everything is as it should be. It''s an old rundown motel, much like everything else around it. Old crates from The End litter each room. Each is almost impossible to open. They harbor an old insignia covered by nearly a decade of dust, and freshly dried blood. A circle, several dots on the top half, and stripes on the bottom half.


    Jared then checks the outside, rotten corpses on pikes, all with the upper half of their head flayed, exposing the dried out skulls beneath. A sign of the safehouse¡¯s previous owners, the cultists. The sky is dark, only illuminated by the still burning buildings behind the motel, the city, the first and largest deadzone, off in the far distance.


    Making his way back in, he drags over a crate to the girls, and sits down. ¡°So, mind telling me why in the everloving FUCK youre heading to the deadzone instead of standing your ground and taking back your tree?¡± he stares daggers into her. She glances over to Kim, and to the other raiders. His eye twitches slightly, and his leg gets restless. He stands up. ¡°Alright, tin-man, boys, clear the room. I gotta talk to the dog.¡± he narrows his eyes, looking towards them. ¡°Alone.¡±


    They step outside, and he shuts the door behind them. He rests his back against the door and motions his hand towards her, as if giving her the floor. ¡°After I collapsed, I had a strange dream, it felt real. Like I was there¡­ reliving a memory.¡± she looks down towards her hands ¡°but it wasn''t me, it was the guy who attacked us. He was after ME, and there''s more like him coming for me. I didn''t want anyone else to die on my account. So i''m out here looking for a safe place to live, and he was there when we got into a bit of trouble¡±


    ¡°And you thought the best place was a place full of zombies, bile, smoke, methane¡­?¡± he asks, almost annoyed.


    ¡°No, I simply headed into the desert-¡±


    ¡°With literally no plan in mind, right? Youre lucky you got stopped by a LITERAL KNIGHT IN SHINING FUCKING ARMOR!¡± Jared catches himself mid lecture, he blows air through his nose, and rubs his temples. ¡°For a fucking teacher, you sure are stupid.¡±


    She places her hands on her head and sticks her tongue out with a cute tilt ¡°ehehe¡±.


    Jared stares at her, trying his best not to punch her in the face. ¡°Look, when I got back to Mike¡¯s I overheard some scouts say something about an underground city in the sewers and subways under the deadzone. If you''re really gonna pussy out now, at least go there.¡±


    ¡°An underground city¡­? But¡­ Most hives are themselves underground. In those exact places¡­?¡± the expression on her face changes, a whirlwind of thoughts trying to piece together if something such as that is even possible.


    ¡°If my boys say they saw it then I trust them. No point in lying to your own people.¡±


    ¡°Actually¡­¡± Eliza interjects. ¡°...before I was taken in by¡­ Mike, my brother and I were with a settlement who often made trades with ¡®Metro-Men¡¯, they said they were from an underground settlement, so it could be real¡­¡±


    Rider looks to Eliza, then to Jared. And after a moment of contemplation, she stands up. ¡°Alright let''s head there then.¡± Jared smirks, and Eliza¡¯s heartbeat rises at the thought of entering the deadzone.


    ¡°Great. Before we head out though, we need gas masks. Like I said before, that place is full to the brim with deadly shit. Supposedly, before this safehouse was ours or the cultists, it served as a military outpost.¡± he points towards the IRF crate in front of him. ¡°No person alive has been able to open ''em without the codes, but¡­¡± he points towards Rider with one finger ¡°you''re barely a person¡± then points at her with two fingers ¡°or alive.¡± he pushes it over to her with his foot. ¡°Let''s hope the mystery box doesn''t have a teddy bear.¡±


    She stares at the crate for a moment, looking it over, she feels it over, looking for any indents or creases. She finds one to the side of the crate, and with a firm grip, pulls open the lid, bending and distorting it beyond recognition. Eliza looks on in awe, and Jared swallows whatever he was about to say with a barely noticeable twitch to his eye. Inside the crate are several items of value. Several meds, 2 gas masks, 4 filters, 3 ammo crates, 6 first aid kits, 8 UV flares.


    ¡°Holy shit! Jack-fuckin-pot! Open another!¡±


    The next crate had the same set of items. ¡°Looks like they all got the same shit. I''ll have my boys take the rest back to Mike¡¯s. Grab the masks and filters, guess the 4th one will be a spare just in case.¡± taking a filter in hand, he looks at the label on the side. ¡°Good for 12 hours.¡±


    ¡°Hopefully it doesn''t take that long to find.¡± Rider says, clipping two masks onto some ornate loops on her pant legs.


    Jared opens the door ¡°oi, bring a car or two and take the crates back to Mike¡¯s, looks like there''s some goodies in there after all. We¡¯re heading into the deadzone.¡±


    ¡°Why are you going into the deadzone?¡± Kim asks. Jared, once again, looks him up and down. Then looks towards Rider.


    ¡°Seriously, what''s the deal with tin man?¡±


    ¡°He saved us from a charger¡±


    ¡°Well shit, imagine that! I thought that was a bit.¡± He walks over to his bike and turns it on.


    Kim puts his hand on his shoulder ¡°take me with you.¡± his grip gets stronger


    ¡°Don''t suppose all that armor can stop a slug can it?¡± Kim looks down, Jared¡¯s gun is aimed directly at his dick.


    ¡°Please, I have¡­ unfinished business there. This might be my only chance.¡±


    Jared looks towards Rider ¡°he did save our lives. Plus we could use his sword.¡±


    Jared screams internally. ¡°FINE¡± he pulls back his gun, and Kim loosens his grip. Rider tosses him a mask after putting on its filter. ¡°Hop on, and the moment I feel something stiff on my ass you''re zombie food.¡±


    ¡°I¡­ what? I like girls, mate.¡±


    ¡°As opposed to women?¡± Jared lets out a wicked laugh and rides off into the deadzone, with Rider following close behind.


    As they approach the outskirts of the deadzone, Jared stops his bike, and Rider stops hers. ¡°Going forward we¡¯re on foot unless you want to be swarmed.¡± The bikes would make way too much noise in a compressed environment. ¡°Gas masks on¡±. They all put on the masks, and snap on the filters. ¡°Tin man, you''re in front, dog in the back, slave behind me. Stay close.¡± Kim¡¯s eyes narrow in response to Jared¡¯s demeanor towards the girls. He unhooks a spare shield from his back, and holds it out in front.


    Together, they step in. The deadzone is desolate. Corpses and tattered vehicles litter the streets. Pools of blood and bile, methane in the air. Just as Jared had described. No one could survive in these conditions. It''s a wonder how this atmosphere stays contained in the city. The gasses are dense, quickly fogging up the masks. They need to wipe it off every few minutes. Massive stretched out tendrils cover the buildings like webbing. The deeper they go the more noticeable it becomes. The strongest point seems to be its origin. They look upwards, a massive hive has taken over the tallest tower. ¡°That''s the Black Rose Hospital¡± Kim whispers out. ¡°But¡­ the name there- on the side, it''s¡­ changed¡­? What the hell is the ¡®IRF¡¯?¡±


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    Several gliders swoop down from the mid to top sections of the tower, however they are cut off from sight due to the buildings in the way. A small explosion can be heard from a distance away, deep grunts and guttural screams. ¡°Busters over there, it''s best to keep away from the tower.¡± Rider says. ¡°How do you know so much about the deadzone?¡± she asks Jared.


    ¡°I used to be a scout back in the early days. I¡¯d do what you used to do, scavenge and recover what I could, but only for the sake of Mike¡¯s. Then I got enough rep to grab the best job in the world. Then you came around and fucked it all up.¡± he stares back at her, glaring.


    ¡°Sorry I asked...¡±


    ¡°Uh-huh. Just keep an eye out for the biters.¡± As of now they''re just walking in a straight line. No real sense of direction. ¡°Look for a street called ¡®Clair¡¯ and turn right.¡± Eliza perks up at the mention of the street name. There''s something familiar about it, but she can''t exactly remember why. Continuing to walk forward, they see a crashed helicopter sticking out of a building. From the looks of it, it''s not the same chopper as before. Next to it, is an upside down tank lodged into the crumbled remains of an apartment. A glider¡¯s remains are stuck in the heli¡¯s rotors, and on the ground floor is a dead buster.


    They walk past the scene of battle, carefully surveying the area and looking out for any hazards. Upon reaching the cross street, Eliza remembers something, but it escapes her before she could understand what it was. They turn, and see a horde of rats tear down a chaser in the blink of an eye, before dashing into a sewer grate. ¡°Alright, quick note, stay away from the fucking rats.¡± Jared whispers, tightly clutching his shotgun as the others nod stiffly in response.


    As they carefully walk wayward through clair, the memory gets stronger. There was something familiar about this street. Like she¡¯s been here before, but not in years. Her eyes scan the environment, trying to tug on that sense of deja vu, as her eyes pass over the street walls, she quickly looks back to a gate leading into a neighborhood.


    And then it clicks. ¡°I used to live there,¡± she says, pointing at the gate. ¡°Before it all started.¡±


    Jared turns to her, raising an eyebrow. ¡°Woop-dee-fuckin-do. I lived near here too. Now shut up and keep walking.¡±


    Eliza glares at him, before sighing and looking back at the neighborhood, whatever retort she had dying on her tongue. She slows down a bit, staring at the houses, the bricks, the road and the grass. It all looked dead.


    Unsurprising considering the circumstances, but it was a shock to her to see her old home now a graveyard. She shudders quietly, tears threatening to leave her. Sniffing, she looks back to see Rider staring at her. ¡°I¡¯m okay.¡± She says, quickly catching up to them.


    Rider shakes her head, waving down the rest of the group. ¡°We can check here for supplies. Eliza should know the best places.¡± She smiles underneath her mask at Eliza. While she didn¡¯t know where she came from, Eliza does. And it''s worth the detour with a little under 12 hours to spare.


    Jared looks back at them, taken aback in disbelief. His eye almost goes bloodshot again. ¡°Better¡­ be worth¡­ the fucking trouble, otherwise¡­ it''s your ass.¡± his words are shaken by his compressed rage. He statically turns around, pulling the knight with him. After a loud ghoulish sigh, he says ¡°Same formation.¡±


    Eliza¡¯s eyes widen in a weary form of joy. She can''t remember the specifics, but if she had a home, she had a family. So far, she only remembers her brother.


    ¡°So, how do we open this fucking thing.¡± Jared looks towards the Knight ¡°Think you can cut it down?¡±


    ¡°No, iron is a lot harder than bone. But I could try to pry it open.¡± Kim sticks his sword between the gaps of the gate, yet it won''t budge ¡°No luck.¡±


    Jared then looks at the group, then at the gates. He jumps up to the walls and climbs over, carefully making his way back to the gate. ¡°Can¡¯t find anything. Tin-can, think you can climb over?¡± He asks, watching as the two females of the group easily climb over themselves.


    Kim frowns, shaking his head. ¡°Cool, that puts you on guard duty, enjoy it.¡± Jared laughs out. Kim sighs in disbelief, before caving in and standing by the gates, eyes peeled open.


    Eliza, now inside the gated neighborhood, scans the surrounding homes, looking for her own. Each house had differing amounts of wear and tear, broken windows, crumbled walls, and splintered doors. And then she finds it, the living room window, smashed outwards, and a light flickering on and off inside.


    ¡°Is that¡­?¡± Rider asks.


    ¡°Huh, cake. With candles.¡± Jared looks at Eliza. ¡°Happy ninth birthday, slave.¡± He says, with little heat or humor to his voice. Signs hung above, with discarded party hats and confetti littering the ground, and finally a chair.


    ¡°Daddy¡­¡± a tear falls down her face, pooling in the gasmask, as she sees the skeleton of a man rotting in a chair with a camera around his neck. She steps closer, vaulting through the broken window, careful not to cut herself. She walks closer to the skeleton, and picks up the digital camera. She looks through the photos of happier times, with her family. Her mother, her brother, her father. They all smiled at her through the photos. And seeing their faces again filled her with sorrow, but she was happy to be reunited with them again in some way. She hugged the camera tight, lightly sobbing to herself.


    Rider vaulted the window quickly, Eliza turning back round in surprise and confusion. Rider¡¯s sprinting towards her, and Eliza gets pulled out of the way of a rotting hand swiping at her. She lands against the bottom of the window. The zombie is punched against the wall, insides splatting against it, and then tears out its throat, causing the head to fall onto the skeleton father¡¯s lap.


    Eliza looks at the head, tears welling up even further. ¡°Mama...¡± She gets up, and coughs, once, twice, before it develops quickly into a spree. it was harsh as she gasped for air, clutching at her throat. Rider runs over, looking her over. The mask was loose. No- even worse. It was torn. Her mother sliced it in the attack. She quickly takes it off, replacing it with her own.


    Eliza quickly takes in a deep gasp, heart beating hard and fast. Rider feels it, in her eardrums. Mouth salivating, she feels the hunger pang deep within her. She needs to stop herself, but she doesn¡¯t know if she can. Quickly picking up Eliza, she tosses her through the window, into Jared, who barely manages to catch her.


    ¡°What the fuck, woman!?¡±


    Rider kneeled on the floor, hunched over and clutching her head. It''s almost bursting at the seams, the pain threatening to take over. And in the last second of her consciousness, she lets out a small gasp of relief as all feelings stop.


    Her eyes snapped back open, darkened and her veins quickly blackened. She shrieks like a banshee, curdling both of the audience''s blood. As the revenant awakens, a second zombie appears. One Eliza is unfamiliar with, but recognizes. The man who destroyed her family. Pained flashes of memory remind her of the monster who started it all. The man who jumped through their kitchen window and tore out her father¡¯s neck and sliced her pregnant mother¡¯s stomach open.


    The revenant, smelling the threat, leaps over, blood flowing out of her hands into crystals, as she tears apart the zombies head, and then gutting him swiftly, while ripping out his guts with her teeth. She reveled in the hunger, the blood soothing her. And for a moment, the darkness fades.


    All the pain is gone, but her mind is clearer than ever before. Looking down at her friend on her hip, she picks up the plush off of her belt, and falls over. Hugging Frankie.


    ¡°Son of a bitch!¡± Jared swears, holding Eliza up, as she winces in pain from being thrown around like a ragdoll. ¡°Right, I ain¡¯t dragging her out of there.¡± Anything else he would want to say, dies on his lips as a moan comes from Rider, as she slowly rises up, shambling over towards the window, Frankie in her arms. ¡°Right, you¡¯re... Whatever you are. You can breathe fine.¡±


    Silence.


    ¡°Well that''s a welcome change of pace. You coming? We need to get out of here before more freaks show up.¡±


    Rider, once again, doesn¡¯t respond, just blankly staring at them, as she stands by the edge of the window.


    ¡°Shit. I think she¡¯s braindead.¡± Jared groans in annoyance.


    ¡°What in the hell is going on here!?¡± He turns round, and the tin can is right there, staring at all the bullshit going on.


    Rider walks forward, tripping over the open window and face plants outside, a groan leaves her mouth.


    ¡°Ah. fuck.¡±

 Chapter 4.2 - Episode 6.2: A Wanderers Pack

    ¡°In the post apocalypse, humans have become the very bottom of the food chain, surviving in trusted social groups. Just below the very animals, needless to say, the beasts are not without their own predators. The [Hunters] are the undead variant of the surrounding fauna. The alphas of these groups, the most successful predator, undergoes a mutation where they transform into a [Charger]. Larger, faster, stronger, smarter. A gift from the infection, a forced evolution rewarding them on their success. At the end of their ¡®natural¡¯ life cycle, they merge into the nearest hive, allowing it to adopt its characteristics for the new batch of undead, dubbed [Chimera]. The union between man and beast.¡± - Dr M. Relim


    The mad doctor drifts alongside a pack of hunters led by a charger. With his abilities, he¡¯s able to become aethereal and remain unseen. Observing like a silent predator. The hunters tend to fight amongst themselves, as it turns out they''re still as animalistic as they were in life. One would think they would mindlessly drone about with no care, much like the shamblers found amongst humans. Perhaps they are kept in check by the charger.


    ¡°In truth the only notable difference found between the undead hunters and their living counterpart is an increase in aggressive tendencies as well as a new found common taste for their living counterparts, not to mention their significantly changed biological structure, composed of rotting flesh and holes, juxtaposed by the increased density and strength of bones and flesh. Perhaps an evolutionary trait to offset the constant decay?


    The Charger is much larger, sporting a greater muscle mass, and therefore stronger bones to support said mass, and from my research on un-moving subjects, this is caused by specifically placed tumors that enhance growth in those areas, which tend to use any taken genetic material and spread it around the body. These tumors are connected by an almost fungal system throughout the whole body.¡±


    The doctor keeps his distance, as a familiar scent appears. He looks past himself as the pack is taken to the same scent. Though it''s a blur, he can tell it''s a familiar woman, with a younger woman sitting behind her. The doctor looked on, as the pack was easily dispatched by a local he¡¯s seen drifting around the wasteland just outside the deadzone. A man in shining armor.


    The charger rips apart the bike in anger, throwing it at the last hunter in its pack. After an unsuccessful hunt, the charger turns to its fallen comrades and rips them to shreds, consuming their flesh to satisfy its infernal hunger.


    ¡°Due to an evolutionary trait, most animals, namely canines suffer from chronic hunger until they physically can''t eat any more.¡±


    The doctor looks onward towards the women, as they are carried off by the knight. As it seems, they are headed towards the deadzone. He remains quiet, his current curiosity gets the better of him, as he follows the wandering charger.


    The wanderer walks for hours, searching for a new pack. As an undead, it doesn''t feel exhaustion, even if its bones crack in every step. Eventually however, it picks up a scent. Further from the wasteland, the wanderer finds a trail in the air leading into the woods ahead.


    ¡°This scent appears to be how chargers find other chargers to usurp. The defending charger fights to defend its pack, as the hunters circle around, forming a specialized arena for their fight.¡±


    The battle is easily won by the wanderer however due to its increased stature and lifelong experience, and as a reward for its victory, it begins to eat the fallen charger until it is full, granting itself a new mutation.


    ¡°This new mutation grants it a stronger and larger upper body, much like the busters, this charger now looks more akin to a gorilla, or in the case of this wolf, a lycanthrope. As it could only eat a little over half of its bounty, the unfinished strain only added a partial mutation. ¡°


    This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.These mutations happen rapidly, a metamorphosis, like a caterpillar emerging into a butterfly, or better yet, a spider¡¯s molt. The hunters tear into the molted flesh of the wanderer as it sets off aimlessly, hoping to discover another scent.


    Further into the night, the charger half eaten and left to rot by the wanderer jolts awake. It''s ravenous. Its stomach was torn out along with its hind legs. It drags itself forward, hearing the call of the closest hive. Despite its loss against the wanderer, it was the alpha of this section of the forest, just as the wanderer was the alpha of the wasteland. The charger claws its way forward, its entrails dragging behind it, getting caught in woodland debris and ripping its insides to shreds. Its pain unfelt, its motivation unwavering.


    The hive was close. The call was deafening. It''s nearing the end of its life cycle. And as it lay beside the fleshy protruding roots of the hive-infested building, it closes its eyes knowing a brief peace as it''s pulled in by the roots.


    That is, until it re-spawns. It awakens, feeling a surge of power it''s never felt before. It felt a new set of features. As the doctor¡¯s notes dictate, the charger had undergone its second mutation, it had become a chimera. But, it was incomplete. The merger between man and beast was not produced, but rather a feral merger, it was missing a key ingredient, its own genome, and it knew who had it. Needless to say, feral hives produce feral chimeras. And the nearest hive was human centric.


    The chimera tears its way out of the hive, spreading its boney bat-like wings and letting out a monstrous howl. The chimera sports a boney tail spiked at the ends, a quilled mane, and 2 sets of claws on each of its paws. Its jaw is stronger, made of a hardened bone-like biomaterial. And while it can''t exactly fly with its bone wings, it uses them to trot faster, like an extra set of front legs. It has enlarged bat-like ears that work to map out its surroundings with every step echolocating through the woods and back to its ears, tied with its enhanced sense of smell, it can pinpoint the usurper with 100% accuracy.


    It rushes straight through it, weaving through the trees, leaping over boulders. The wanderer isn''t caught off guard however. It''s a charger for a reason. The wanderer lets out an ear shattering howl, stunning the chimera, crashing into a set of trees.


    The quills of its mane get lodged in a tree, and as it slowly gets up in a daze, the wanderer attacks, lunging in after trotting with its fist like paws, aiming to stomp down on the chimera¡¯s head, but the chimera quickly turns to whip its spiked tail into its shoulder, picking it up and launching it back into the huddled arena.


    The chimera jumps up and front flips the tree at the wanderer. The wanderer tears through the tree with ease using its front legs, but still gets struck as the chimera shoots its quills alongside the tree. The wanderer is stabbed in the eye, the quill shooting through its brain, but it''s not dead just yet.


    The chimera bites down on the torn tree and uses it as a weapon.


    ¡°Its usage of tools leads me to believe there''s traces of human intelligence in its brain. Had the wanderer become a chimera, it would have become complete.¡±


    The chimera allows itself to get hit, and stabs the shoulders of the wanderer as the tree shatters on its chest.


    ¡°If these creatures were able to speak, I imagine the chimera would remind the wanderer where exactly it got its upper body mutation from, almost like a cheesy action movie line.¡±


    The chimera bites down on the wanderer¡¯s head, and it drops on the ground. The hunters howl in celebration, as the wanderer is consumed whole. And yet, the chimera isn''t complete.


    It looks around, at the surrounding hunters.


    And then it shook its body.


    Killing the hunters with a volley of quills.


    It walked around, consuming the hunters, one by one. And finally, it was complete.


    The chimera''s wings fall off with a loud thump as they hit the ground. The chimera shakes and shakes, panting hard, growling, and it walks around, barely stable. It smashes its head on a tree, over and over but it does nothing. It tries to vomit out, a hack after a hack. Before it finally locks, and it falls over.


    Relim¡¯s radio sparks to life, echoing in the woods in a voice unfamiliar to him. ¡°Hey, Dog! Where the hell are you?¡± A moment of silence. ¡°Over!¡±


    He gains new information from it, and turns to leave. But before he can, the chimera¡¯s metamorphosis is complete. A humane figure tears through its side. A woman, with features not too dissimilar to the chimera itself. By the looks of it, her actions, her unrotten form, this was a hiveborn mephisto. The Hiveborn stands still, before looking up, and slowly turning her head towards Relim¡¯s direction.

 Chapter 4.2 - Episode 7.2: A Young Girls Wish

    He walks to the baked goods department, frowning and humming in thought, stroking his stubbled chin. A speckling of gold that blends into his shaggy dirt blond hair, green eyes examining every piece of cake he can. He feels a pair of arms slide beneath him, into an almost hug, a large protrusion against his back.


    ¡°Hey, honey. What do you think? After Eliza¡¯s, I¡¯m going to need to buy the boys a cake, for all the work they¡¯ve done at the site.¡± He asks, a feminine hum behind him contemplating for a second.


    ¡°That one.¡± She says, pointing to a square cake with chocolate and caramel. ¡°You could also invite them over¡±


    He looks down at her, a lighter blonde, with the cutest freckles and even lighter blue eyes. ¡°Good choice as always. How¡¯s Jr doing?¡± He asks, turning around fully so he can embrace her, as her own hands go down to her pregnant belly.


    ¡°Kicking. I don¡¯t doubt he¡¯ll be screaming as well as soon as he¡¯s out.¡± She says, before looking towards the bakery signage with a LED number display. ¡°Oh, that''s our number!¡±


    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, Anne, you stay here and look pretty, I¡¯ll get it.¡± He grins at her, her pouting in response and following him anyways, but quickly being drawn towards the decorations section of the store, looking immediately for candles.


    ¡°Hi, I¡¯m here to pick up a cake for Eliza?¡± He says, placing the ticket on the counter, C-333. Looking back to his wife, as the attendant nods in response, picking up the ticket and going behind a massive looking piece of cooking machinery. She¡¯s soon out, holding a glorious pink square cake, with frills and a t-rex in a princess dress drawn on top.


    ¡°Here it is, Happy 9th Birthday to the lucky girl!¡± She says, looking over his shoulder, towards his wife waddling her way to him, leaning on the cart, now sporting a pair of pink candles at the top of the pile. ¡°Oh! How far along are you ma¡¯am?¡± She asks.


    ¡°I¡¯m 8 months in.¡± She smiles, feeling her belly, as her husband and the attendant carefully carry the cake into the cart. ¡°Henry Jr, here is going to be our third.¡±


    They quickly make their way out of the store, having paid the cashier their due, wanting to get home early for the preparations. Soon after leaving the store, a strange man in a torn lab coat and razzled hair bumps into Henry, almost losing grip of whatever was in his arms. ¡°Whoa there, are you okay?¡± The man pushes himself away at his question.


    He looks up, and with a richtor of anger upon his face, framed by a set of half broken glasses, he shouts at him. ¡°Get the hell away!¡± His words are sharp, and biting. ¡°Dieser Stoff ist sehr fl¨¹chtig!¡±


    ¡°Huh- sorry?- Excuse me, sir, but you bumped into me.¡±


    ¡°Gah!¡± the man runs off, he seems to have a limp. And as Henry looks back, it seems like the man was looking around wildly, as if he was looking for something or someone, almost paranoid. By the looks of it, he had been running for miles.


    ¡°What the hell was that about?¡± his wife asks, and her husband shrugs. ¡°What was he carrying? It stank like hell! A hint of sulfur and¡­ well, death.¡±


    ¡°It''s better to leave him alone, guy doesn''t seem right.¡±


    The doctor looks to where he came from, and there''s a pile of smoke from a distance, near the newly built Black Rose hospital.


    -


    In the car, the radio station interrupts the song being played. ¡°God I hate when they do that, can''t they just let us listen to music?¡± the woman says, changing the station. A good song comes on but it''s soon replaced by another interruption. ¡°Ugh¡± she presses the mute button. She seems fairly irritable.


    ¡°Use my phone, put on a song you like from that one app.¡± he says, looking towards the road. Cars seem faster and slightly more reckless than usual.


    As he turns a corner, there''s a homeless man standing stiff, a slight twitch to his arms. ¡°Damn shame, Reggie¡¯s using again.¡±


    ¡°You saw Reggie?¡± she asks, confused


    ¡°Yeah, he was twitching.¡±


    ¡°Honey, Reggie passed away a week ago, remember when the cops showed up to stop the street racers at like 3 in the morning? He got squashed by one of those assholes that crashed into a light pole.¡±


    ¡°First time I''m hearing of that. But I swear I just saw him¡­ whatever. I hope Mason finishes decorating before Eliza gets off the school bus.¡±Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.


    A young man, no older than 17, places a step stool in front of the entrance from the dining room to the kitchen. In his hands are a few decorations he needs to hang up as well as a box of thumbtacks. ¡°Alright this goes here.¡± He pushes into one end of a banner with a tack, ¡°Then here¡± he pins one in the middle. And once he finishes the last one, he steps back and reads aloud, smiling to himself. ¡°Happy birthday Eliza.¡±


    After that, he blows up some balloons and hangs them around the house.


    After a few more pieces of decor are set up, he heads upstairs into his room, and pulls out a box from under his bed. Inside the box is a plush, a bear with a card in its hands ¡°Happy birthday Ellie, this teddy bear will always protect you and keep you safe, it''s made with love and care, and now that it''s yours, it will never run out.¡± He laughs to himself ¡°Christ that''s cheesy. Cant believe kids love this crap.¡± He closes the box and tightens the bow.


    With the box in his hands, he takes it over to her room, and hides it under her pillow.


    The door opens and his parents greet him just as he finishes placing the plates and cups. ¡°Well done Mace, she¡¯s gonna love it.¡± Henry places the cake in the middle of the dining room table, after unboxing it.


    ¡°Anne, have you seen the camera?¡±


    ¡°I think it''s in the living room.¡± she says, placing nine candles atop the cake.


    And now, after all the preparations, a few guests started to arrive. Some of Mason¡¯s friends, the boys from Henry''s site, and a few of Anne¡¯s.


    The knob on the front door turns, and Eliza is startled by the sudden shouting and cheering of a collective ¡°Happy Birthday!¡± her eyes widened in pure joy at the sight of everyone, the decor, and the cake.


    Behind her are a handful of her friends and their parents, the kids run in and the party goes on for about an hour or two.


    Just long enough for Reggie and a few others to make their way over.


    Eliza sits at the throne of the dinner table ¡°come on! Make a wish!¡± Eliza thinks on it for a moment.


    ¡°I wish every day would be just as exciting as this!¡±


    And at that very moment, just as she was blowing her candles, Reggie leapt through the kitchen window.


    Reggie tore out Henry¡¯s neck and leapt across to Anne, she fell back and her belly was sliced open. Mason picked up Eliza before grabbing the car keys off the counter and hurrying into the car. As much as he worried about his parents, he couldn''t let any harm fall on his sister. They were dead, and he knew they wouldn''t come back.


    At least until, their mother stood at the front door, with her belly torn open, with Jr missing.


    ¡°Eliza, close your eyes¡­¡±


    ¡°Mama¡­?¡±


    ¡°Close your eyes!¡±


    Anne starts moving closer to the car, and Mason backs up immediately, out through the gate, closing behind them as they narrowly escape the rotting claws of their undead mother. Upon seeing them drive off, a tear leaves her eye. And an insatiable hunger ravages her dying brain as she¡¯s compelled to turn back and walk inside her home. She stands in front of her husband for a moment, waiting for him to turn. But he doesn''t. And so, she starts tearing the flesh from his body.


    She feels disgusted, but she can''t stop. She feels pain but she moves regardless. She feels despair, her husband''s lifeless eyes won''t look at her. ¡°Please¡­ Henry¡­¡± a human soul trapped in a rotting shell of her former self. A monster unrecognizable. ¡°Look at me¡­¡± she sobs, even if she can''t express it. ¡°Oh God¡­ please¡­ keep them safe¡­¡± the wooden cross hanging on their wall shakes before falling off onto the floor. A fleet of tanks appears just outside the gates, and every fired round shakes the undead world. But it''s far from enough. ¡°Hen¡­rerr¡­eughrr..rahh¡±.


    -


    ¡°It''s been 4 years since we¡¯ve started traveling. The world¡¯s changed so much. It''s unrecognizable. I''ve seen my sister grow into her tweens, and she always manages to keep a smile on her face. And mine too. Being a nomad is hell. Everywhere we try to settle gets attacked by zombies, dangerous fanatics, or just desperate people trying to steal our shit. Nowhere is safe. Knowing that, I started writing a series of journals, retelling the events of our travels, in case I''m no longer around to protect you. And don''t worry, I''m sure you''ll meet good friends who¡¯ll help you survive.¡± - Mason


    ¡°Tips by Mason: Eliza¡¯s Survival Guidebook, huh?¡± a man in a jagged crown of scrap and rust stands atop the rotting corpse of a young man. ¡°Damn shame the shamblers got to you. You would have made a fine addition to my warparty.¡±


    ¡°Mike! We found a survivor, she¡¯s a feisty little shit.¡± a tall man holds a 13 year old Eliza by the arm. She''s struggling, trying to loosen his grip.


    Eliza looks at the King, and down at her brother¡¯s corpse laying in front of him. Her face drops, as the light in her eyes fade. ¡°m¡­Mason¡­?¡± her lips quiver trying to call out to him. Her brows stiffen in disbelief when he doesn''t respond to her voice. A stream of tears starts to fall down her face as she realizes It happened again. And Now, she¡¯s all alone. Upon seeing the men who captured her, the man standing in front of her brother¡¯s corpse holding his journal in one hand, and a bloodied sledgehammer in another, she gives up. She goes limp. She just wanted them to get it over with.


    ¡°We found her hiding under a bed in one of the tents. What do we do with her?¡±


    Mike looks down at her for a moment. To the book, then the young man on the floor. ¡°Chain her up. Can''t let another one go to waste.¡± and now, a new fear washes over her.

 Chapter 5 - Episode 8: The Captain

    Rider slowly stands up, her movements are haunting, yet humorous. Like an automaton with a faulty gyroscope. She slowly sways her head left and then right, before looking upwards. Her eyes follow a passing glider, it doesn''t seem to have noticed them. She hugs Frankie tight, then looks forward, onto the gazing eyes.


    ¡°She doesn''t have a mask, she¡¯s turned!¡± Kim grips his sword and readies to pull it out, Jared stares, Eliza in his arms.


    ¡°Hold on tin-can-¡± he says but before he can continue, Eliza chimes in.


    ¡°She hasn''t¡­ turned¡­ she¡¯s¡­ an immune¡­¡±


    ¡°Immune¡­? Like the cultists?¡±


    ¡°Y-yeah¡­ see? She isn''t attacking us¡­¡±


    Kim narrows his eyes, slowly releasing the grip on his sword, watching over her movements carefully. However, Rider just has a string of drool falling from her mouth. ¡°Why is she acting like that?¡±


    ¡°I dont know¡­¡±


    ¡°Alright enough chit-chat, if you''re worried about her, I''m sure the underground city has a doctor or two that can smack her back to normal.¡± Jared says, plopping Eliza back on her feet. ¡°Stay up, can''t drag you around forever.¡±


    ¡°Do you know anything?¡± Kim says, turning to Jared.


    ¡°I said shut up! Lets! Get! Going! We¡¯re in a viper¡¯s pit and you wanna ask why the zombie hunter with a stuffed rabbit is acting retarded? Shit happens, go with the flow or fuck off!¡± He huffs, dragging Eliza by the arm, then shoving her into Rider so she can look after the hunter.


    Kim is taken aback by his words. His claims do not track with what he''s personally experienced. Regardless, the miasma wouldn''t do this to someone like her. As far as he can tell, she¡¯s smart and experienced in the world of the undead. But for now, he keeps that, and the miasma¡¯s secrets to himself.


    The group traverses the deadzone, Eliza doing her best to guide Rider as Kim walks in front as the group¡¯s shield. They''re doing their best to keep formation. ¡°If the city is underground, why don''t we just go into a manhole and traverse outside of the miasma?¡±


    ¡°For once I¡¯m going to follow the dog''s advice; most hives are underground, not her exact words, but we¡¯d drop heel first into a minefield. Keep going, we¡¯re almost there. My boys left us a marker for us to find so we know which one it is.¡±


    Passing by a sign saying ¡°Clair ST¡±, they find the manhole cover in question, adorned with an arrow made of scrap, with ¡°HERE B WAY¡± spray painted on. It brings a tear to Jared¡¯s eye. ¡°Thankfully I grabbed a couple of these. Only problem is lighting it. There''s methane pockets everywhere and it''s almost impossible to tell.¡± Jared takes out a handful of UV flares, 4 in number.


    ¡°Alright, everyone pray to your God if you have one, or we might just create another sun.¡± Jared steps out from behind Kim, and gets on one knee beside the cover. ¡°O Raiders of old, of the foot and the ball, guide me to- oh fuck this.¡± he sparks the UV flare, closing his eyes in preparation. ¡°That''s one.¡± He places it at the opposite end just off the cover. No methane pockets.


    ¡°Surprising.¡±


    After placing all flares, he tries to lift the cover, but as it appears, it''s bolted down. ¡°What the¡­? This is the cover. Did my boys bolt it down so whoever''s down here wouldn''t escape before a raid¡­?¡± he thinks to himself, before looking at the bolts themselves, they are rusted, his Kingdom¡¯s favorite type of metal. He grins. ¡°Slave, bring the dog over!¡±


    Eliza guides Rider over to Jared. He stands up, putting both hands on her shoulders and staring deep into her eyes, frowning in concentration, looking for signs of life. ¡°Alright now, Rider. If you can hear me¡­ I need to know you''re still somewhere in there. I need you to rip the cover off the floor.¡± Rider stares blankly into the cover, not a thought behind her eyes.


    She sways forwards then backwards, after Jared lets go of her. ¡°Is¡­ is that a yes¡­?¡± Rider takes Frankie in one hand, and with the other, grips onto the edge of the cover, her veins get dark as red crystal shards slowly start to rise out of her skin.


    The group is huddled, and Kim stares from a distance, though he can''t see much of anything. As much as he wants to take a closer look, he knows he¡¯s the lookout, and they won¡¯t get far if they¡¯re ambushed.


    ¡°Yes good, now, tear it open.¡±


    And she does, as if pulling a sticker off a fruit. However, the cover now has a curve to it, so it won''t fit back on.


    ¡°Great, now throw it over there¡± She winds her arm back, twisting her body, and throws it, the bent disc like object hitting a lamp post several streets away, tearing it off the sidewalk, and becoming street decor. ¡°Holy Piss Missile! I should get you braindead more often¡­ hm.¡±


    ¡°Tin-can! Door¡¯s open, hop down first.¡±


    The group enters the tunnel. Same formation as before. And it''s not long before they encounter another door. This one seems easier to open. The label on top reads ¡°Decontamination? What the hell is that supposed to mean?¡± Jared asks, getting ignored as Kim opens the door, and the group steps inside, Jared glaring at him in response. The door seemingly closes by itself behind them. They''re flashed with four UV lanterns, and a whirring noise is heard as fans suck in the room, removing the miasma off of them, and blowing it back out onto the streets.


    ¡°Fucker! It''s a trap!¡± Jared shouts at Kim, readying his sledgehammer, facing the room¡¯s exit.


    If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.¡°It¡¯s a decontamination room. It removes all the miasma around you, and makes sure you¡¯re not infected.¡± Kim says, clearly unbothered, as Eliza internally panics, hiding behind the walking puppet. He stops for a moment, looking around. ¡°I¡¯ve seen these before so it¡¯s most likely just that.¡±


    Jared looks at him, eyes narrowing in suspicion. ¡°Get your fucking sword out Tin-Can, I don¡¯t give a shit what you know, I don¡¯t trust these fuckers, and neither should you.¡± Kim sighs, but half-heartedly takes out his sword.


    ¡°I don¡¯t think they would want to trap us if they locked us out with that manhole cover.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, unless we broke in, which newsflash fucker, WE DID!¡± Kim looks up, then frowns under his gas mask. He was right. But he didn¡¯t want bloodshed so soon.


    ¡°Let¡¯s at least talk to them before we go swinging our weapons.¡± Jared laughs, but then stops as the fans finally stop whirring, and the door slowly rises. They¡¯re met with guns pointed right at them.


    ¡°Yeah, if they want to talk in the first place.¡± He says, tensing up, fingers gripping his weapon harder. He looks at each of the men with guns, each and every one of them shaking, yet they hold still as best as they could, superior firepower calming them and their number giving them safety.


    Their outfits were made of padding you¡¯d find on sport players, shielded by sheets of metal and twisted wire. Their faces masked, but among them was a captain. He stood firm, and looked right at Kim, then to the group behind. ¡°You seem lost.¡± voice deep and full of sophistication. It commanded order and respect.


    Jared however¡­


    ¡°Lost? Hah, sure. Let''s cut the bullshit. You know we broke in, we know you have supplies. Don¡¯t wanna take ¡®em by force.¡± Jared smiles, taking off his gas mask, noticing the group infront didn¡¯t have any on. His smile changed to a grin, as he thought to himself; ¡°At Least not for now.¡± ¡°But we are willing to trade for some shit, do jobs and stuff. Got a fucker we need you to look at, make sure she ain¡¯t permanently braindead.¡±


    The Captain takes a look at Jared, then shifts his eyes to Kim''s, they¡¯re eyes locked on each other, The Knight¡¯s filled with rage. ¡°I understand.¡± he nods his men forward ¡°Take her to Dr. Al.¡± The men brush past the group, and grab Rider with them, and upon noticing Eliza start to follow, they point their guns at her.


    She takes a step back, eyes widening even further. Her hands up by her head. ¡°Umm- She uhh¡­ She shouldn¡¯t wake up without one of us nearby?¡± She says quietly, almost sheepishly. The men look to their Captain, not really seeing the harm. And neither does he, as he nods in response.


    Lowering their guns, they nod towards Rider, and Eliza stands by her side, following them as she holds her up.


    As they exit the chamber, the captain looks to both Jared and Kim, his two remaining guards standing by him. ¡°Follow along. If you''re interested in trade, I may have a job or two for you to do.¡± Kim nods with a quick jerk of his head, almost like a robot.


    Jared leans in to Kim, putting his sledgehammer away, as Kim does the same with his sword. ¡°Hey, I¡¯ve played a game like this. You do some shit for ¡®em, fetch some mcguffin, and they trust you with everything.¡± Jared grins.


    Kim looks at him, the anger bleeding into mere annoyance. ¡°Unfortunately for you, this isn¡¯t a game.¡± Jared grins even harder, almost like a Cheshire cat.


    ¡°Wanna bet?¡±


    ¡°How much?¡±


    ¡°Your sword.¡±


    Kim blinks in surprise. ¡°You want my sword?¡±


    ¡°Fuck yeah I do, shits badass. You dress like a renaissance nerd, with all that metal, but the sword¡¯s a good touch.¡± Kim hums.


    ¡°Very well, If I win, I want your sledgehammer.¡± Jared frowns.


    ¡°Bets off.¡± He pulls the handle of his hammer towards his face, turning to kiss it. ¡°Never putting her on the line.¡±


    Kim laughs, before quieting down as the guards stare at him for being a bit too loud. ¡°Right. Fair enough.¡±


    The captain leads them on a small tour, ¡°these are the vermin¡¯s slums. They''re the people we protect. Unfortunately most of the properties here have begun to wear down over the years. One of your jobs would be to reinforce wearing structures and repairing generators. Do that and you''ll get placed on the job board.¡±


    ¡°Job board?¡±


    ¡°Yes, it''s a new system I implemented, something I''m rather fond of. It''s a board full of fliers and papers made by citizens. These fliers have requests that need to be done, but aren¡¯t needed for the overall upkeep of the place. The captain before me had the metromen,¡± He says, pointing to his men. ¡°-receive letters to fix and gather supplies. It was a nightmare, filing paperwork, mountains of jobs to do. I couldn''t stand it.¡±


    ¡°Now, if someone wants something, someone eligible can take care of it.¡±


    Jared looks at him, even if a little off put by how Civilized the whole thing sounds, he¡¯s impressed by it. ¡°And considering your people are pretty much sewer rats from all over the city, someones bound to be able to do it. Smart. They do get paid right?¡± The captain nods.


    ¡°Unfortunately for you, since you broke our hydraulic manhole system, your pay will be deducted by 50% until it''s fully paid for. And it¡¯s not an easy fix.¡±


    ¡°Wasn''t me, blame the braindead bitch, dock her pay.¡±


    ¡°Wait, she what?¡± Kim does a double take.


    ¡°Regardless, you¡¯re part of her group. You asked for us to look after her, therefore it comes out of the entire group''s pay.¡± He says, with a little evil smile. Jared grumbles, but doesn¡¯t say much more. The Captain instead looks to Kim. ¡°Son, you can take your mask off now, you can breathe fine here.¡±


    ¡°What did you say happened to your old captain?¡±


    ¡°I didn''t..¡±


    ¡°Sate my curiosity please.¡±


    ¡°Last I heard, he died in a horde on a supply run. He was a bit of an asshole, but it''s a shame to lose him.¡±


    ¡°Huh, anyway I¡¯ll keep my mask on. I look hideous under it.¡±


    ¡°He''s right, his eyes look like coin slots.¡± Jared laughs. Kim tilts his head and looks over to Jared. ¡°What? It''s true. Don¡¯t be jealous, you¡¯ll reach about a third of my looks one day.¡±


    Kim rolls his eyes.


    ¡°Fine. But I¡¯ll be keeping guards on you. You may keep your weapons, never know when you¡¯ll get attacked by¡­ undesirables, but try to keep it a minimal mess. And quiet. Upper echelon society hates it when there¡¯s news of death.¡± The captain points towards the jobs board. ¡°Pick something from there and your guard will escort you. Ranger, you¡¯re with Hammer, David, you¡¯re with the-¡± Jared quickly interrupts.


    ¡°Call him Tin-can.¡±


    The captain stares at him, before shrugging, ¡°You¡¯re with Tin-can.¡±

 Chapter 5 - Episode 9: The City Below

    ¡°So Ranger, tell me about yourself.¡± Jared says, swinging his hammer onto the head of a zombie. The body falls back out of its trap, a reinforced wall with spikes at neck height, to catch any wanderers. The tunnel leading back is filled with noise, but ahead, past the wall, is pure darkness, and a slight groan of zombies. Another decontamination room is set up between the wall and the town.


    The shittier part of town. Kim ran off to the better parts, doing the people jobs, whereas Jared found a head popping job and instantly took it. He looks to Ranger, to see him standing still, silently staring at him. He grunts in response. ¡°Ah, the strong silent type. You must be someone who''s worked here for a long time then.¡± Another grunt.


    ¡°Tell me, do you get bitches?¡± A short silence, before an affirmative grunt. ¡°My man.¡± Jared grins, winding back with his hammer, and popping another head off the wall. It''s set up, so that people can walk above and kick the heads off. Unfortunately it doesn¡¯t help with the smell, even with gas masks on. ¡°So, how do yall deal with burning these fuckers?¡±


    Ranger thinks for a moment, before replying. ¡°We don¡¯t. The gas removes the undead¡¯s interest. Makes you smell like a zombie, only get zombies here if they wander on their own.¡± His voice is deep, and he stands taller than Jared, which in itself, adds to his stereotypical character.


    Jared thinks back to the slave''s mom, wondering why she and the other zombie attacked the group at the house. Then he realizes, if what he says is true, Rider telling the settlements to burn corpse piles is bullshit. Maybe her half zombie brain is getting to her. ¡°Too bad sitting in it too long causes you to go batshit.¡±


    Jared stops. ¡°Ah, that makes more sense.¡± He swings again, the head popping off and flying like a golf ball. ¡°Damn, that went far. Gimme a rating man.¡±


    Ranger frowns, judging the distance. ¡°5.¡± Jared frowns. Then sighs in acceptance. He knows he can do way better. He puts himself in a golfer''s stance, lining up his hammer against the head of a writhing zombie. Pulling the hammer back like a golf club, over his shoulder, he displays his strength by swinging it with extreme speed. The head goes flying, hitting the side of the wall, and then rolling even further with some bounces.


    Jared looks back. ¡°8.¡± Score.


    ¡°As much as I''m having fun, I''m getting bored of doing the same thing. How many are left?¡±


    Ranger looks towards the decontamination room. ¡°Got two more walls left, then payday.¡± Jared sighs, and goes back to swinging.


    -


    Eliza shudders in disgust, staring at the Rat-like person staring at her with their monocle. ¡°Hmm¡­ I can give you... 3 bottles for 1000 Credits, good deal, yes?¡± She sighs in disappointment, leaving with her money still in her sack. Every single deal was absolutely shit. Always trying to take advantage of her. At least back in the Kingdom they had set prices for food and water. Shit was needed for everyone so they could operate as a whole.


    Looking at her guard, a frail kid called ¡°Flynn¡±. He tried hitting on her, once. That rejection must¡¯ve hit him hard, because now he just follows her around, head held down. Almost like a lost puppy.


    Eliza stares at him for a while, before shaking her head and heading onwards to find a trader that won''t scam her. She takes in the sight of the market again. Shoddy wooden walls, sewer walls covered in moss, and the guard posts were spread around almost strategically, even if they were made out of wood and those large broken pipes. The large central room was blocked off at most exits by large gates, only allowing openings for the various pipes leading across the roof.


    Thinking back to the decontamination room that sucked the miasma off of them, she wonders what these pipes transport now that there wasn¡¯t a need for a sewer. Looking at the barbed wire in the gaps of the walls, maintained by a couple builders, she imagines they must¡¯ve had a hard couple of first days dealing with the zombies. The rubble has clearly been removed from what happened, but the damage that¡¯s still there, shows the story. It all reminded her of something Rider mentioned.


    ¡°Hey... Flynn, you¡¯ve lived here a while right?¡± At a nod from her guard, she continues. ¡°You know a lot about this place¡­ and I was wondering how you keep the zombies from overtaking the city?¡±


    Flynn looks up, a slight glimmer of hope that quickly dies down as he registers the words fully. ¡°We had trouble with them for the longest time. Though it was rare, they¡¯d stumble into our traps. We dunno where they come from, but we think there''s a nest closeby¡­ I think one of your friends is taking care of it.¡± Flynn stops for a moment, looking at the wall. ¡°They stopped attacking though. The doctor moved in, he says he uses Alchemy to keep them away. Herbs or something they¡¯re allergic to.¡±


    ¡°What about UV Lamps?¡±


    ¡°We used to, at first. But the generators to keep them running echo really loudly in here.¡± he points to the crack in the wall. ¡°See that? We had a generator there and a bloater showed up and popped itself right next to it. Caused a lot of hell, noise that attracted more, we were overrun until our old captain cut through them, like a knight in shining armor.¡±


    ¡°Bloater?¡±


    ¡°Yeah, fat blobby zombies filled with liquids. Usually water, but I¡¯ve seen a few that have more blood than water. It''s usually in their stomachs and it stinks a lot when they pop. Our current captain wants us to call the Bloaters, Hydrics. He spends a lot of time with the doctor, probably some scientific name.¡±


    ¡°Huh¡­ I think I remember Rider mentioning something like them before¡­ but, did you say your old captain had shining armor?¡±


    ¡°Nah. Maybe you could call it that, but it was just metal strapped to a bunch of our usual gear. I think it made him look like a Knight, but the others just said it made him look like a tank. On account of him being kinda fat.¡± He shrugs. ¡°Shame he died a while back, he was turning out to be a really good Captain after that first raid.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I''m sorry for your loss.¡± Flynn shrugs once again in response.


    ¡°It was a while ago. We¡¯ve had to get over it. Survival of the fittest as Captain Jackson says.¡±


    Eliza almost laughs, as something Jared would say immediately comes to mind. ¡°He¡¯s Jackson? When does he jack off?.¡± Holding in her laughter, she nods, putting her hand over her mouth to look contemplative. His sense of humor was rubbing off too much on her. She preferred it when he didn¡¯t talk to her at all back in the Kingdom.


    Noticing she¡¯s getting a little off track, she clears her throat and breathes out her nose to calm herself. ¡°Thank you for the information.¡± She says, awkwardly. He nods in response, looking back down to the floor. Heading to the next store, she almost breathes out a sigh of relief as she finally finds someone who has set prices on their wares. And it seems more reasonable.


    -


    In a little white room, in a big tunnel, she lay. She tossed, she turned, but she didn¡¯t wake. Dreams came to her easily, but they left just as quick. Blurred faces, flashes of an old life. It was alien yet comforting.


    Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.Then they weren¡¯t dreams. Memories flew by, of a grumpy boy, a meek girl, of a lovely woman she would fight for. Then everything stopped. Standing in front of her, was a redheaded man. Skinny and grinning wildly.


    ¡°Ya best be waking up now girlie. There¡¯s a rat in the sewers, and he¡¯s awfully hungry.¡±


    ¡°Wha? Wait-who¡¯re-you?¡± She tries to ask, reaching out for him.


    ¡°You know who I am. Ya killed me an¡¯ ate my brains, ya cunt. Don¡¯t blame you, I taste pretty damn good. But you¡¯re gonna have to do the same to another fucker. Before he does the same to you.¡±


    ¡°Who?¡±


    ¡°Think I¡¯ll let ya figure that out on yer own. A little fuck you of me own. But you should still hurry and-¡±


    His face distorts into the woman from before, the lovely one. Tears down her eyes, as she holds her in her arms.


    ¡°Wake up!¡±


    Rider sits up, hyperventilating as a tear falls down her eye. The lovely face is gone. That itch in her brain is there, she desperately claws at herself but she''s gone. ¡°F¡­ fr-¡± her hands graze it. Her rabbit is there with her. She hugs it tight, while she¡¯s slowly coming to.


    Minutes pass, and she looks up from her rabbit, to see a white room, it''s surprisingly clean, it reminds her of those government RVs, mobile medical checkpoints. But all thoughts immediately leave her staring into space as any ounce of brain activity drains out her ears and onto the bed. She follows it trickle down.


    ¡°Visual hallucinations.¡± A finger is suddenly in front of her face, covered in bandages, a leather glove above that on the hand, and leading up towards a plague mask, on top of a large dark cloak. Everything is hidden beneath that cloak, save for the hand that is now withdrawing inside it. ¡°Uncommon. But you were outside without a mask for a while.¡±


    She looks back at the brain goop, finding her hand only resting on cloth, nothing else. ¡°I- what? Where am I?¡±


    ¡°Your friends brought you here from above. I¡¯ve heard some of your kind call it the Deadzone.¡±


    ¡°My kind?¡±


    She can almost hear the sneer in his voice. ¡°Outsiders.¡± He shakes his head, almost gliding towards a table with a rat in a glass cage. ¡°They¡¯ve had me look after you, because you were stupid enough to not have a gas mask on your face. Usually I wouldn¡¯t even be doing that, on account of them all turning into zombies first.¡±


    ¡°But you. You¡¯re different. I¡¯ve been trying to replicate whatever it is you have with this rat, but nothing I do works. And as much as I would love to cut you up and take samples, I respect the captain enough to follow his rules.¡±


    ¡°Cu¡­ cult¡­¡±


    He gets close to her, slowly leaning over her as his mask blocks her vision of the room.


    ¡°Yes, I''m aware of their own transformations. Yours however¡­ was stagnant. Neither transformed nor unaffected. Almost as if you¡¯ve been exposed before.¡± He pulls back. ¡°But, theorizing is useless without proper subjects, therefore, I¡¯ll just have to ask you exactly what is wrong with you.¡±


    Rider stares at him, confusion in her eyes, before she frowns and looks down at her hands. ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± She whispers, just loud enough for him to hear.


    ¡°I see. Should have figured someone dumb enough to go naked into the miasma wouldn¡¯t be able to answer simple questions. Very well.¡±


    She quickly goes to cover herself up. He looks at her again, tilting his head. ¡°A metaphor, you simple-minded fool. Now, if you don¡¯t have any actual health problems that I CAN solve, get out of my clinic.¡±


    She looks down at her arms, noticing she¡¯s not naked, and still has her clothes on. ¡°Oh. Okay.¡± Slowly getting up, she moves towards the exit, looking straight ahead, yet not looking anywhere. Her body, on autopilot, leads her around the town, passing by several shops and guards, and eventually ending up in front of a sign.


    The Baskin¡¯s Bitchin Brothel


    Whatever that sign said, it looked very pretty. Too bad she couldn¡¯t read it. So she went past the door, and into a large room filled with tables, a bar, and a stairway upwards. The whole place was filled with people. Sitting on each other, even more than 2 people on the same person. It was smart of them, to save space. But why are they all cramming themselves into this room?


    It must be something good Rider thought to herself. One of the few remaining that didn¡¯t slip her mind instantly. Someone bumped into her, causing her to stumble into a seat, in front of a table. It feels like only seconds before a drink is in her hands. A nice man, sitting next to her, keeping her knee warm with his hand. He¡¯s saying such nice things about her.


    ¡°Your hair is so beautiful, and your skin so pale.¡± He brushed her hair, he warmed up her cheeks. He was such a nice friend. It was nice to make new ones. She smiled.


    ¡°Thank you!¡± She looked at him scanning his face. She couldn¡¯t focus too well. His hair looked  nice. ¡°Your hair is very fluffy.¡± She giggles, poking it. It bounced, and she looked at his clothes. ¡°Very colorful!¡± She says, taking a sip of the drink.


    She liked it a lot. So she chugged it all down.


    ¡°Why don¡¯t we get to know each other better, in private?¡± He asks her. She frowns. She didn¡¯t want to move, it was so comfy here. His hand trailed up her leg, which struck her odd, the other stroking her cheek. And then the door slammed open. He quickly jumped, looking at the door. She lazily turned her head towards the noise.


    Jared was there. At least she thought it was Jared. He looked slightly pissed. ¡°DOG! There you are!¡± He pushed past multiple people who ignored him after realizing he wasn¡¯t there for them. Rider waved to him.


    ¡°You¡¯re still out of it. Fucking, typical.¡±


    -


    ¡°Who in the blazes are you?¡± Jared stared at the posh looking asshole, who looked like he just sucked a lemon off, and had its dick rammed up his ass. He looked down at the drink in the man''s hand, and grabbed it.


    Quickly chugging it, he puts it back down, frowning. ¡°This is some cheap ass shit, Dog. The fuck are you doing hanging around in a shitty bar brothel for?¡± The man squawks like a fucking goose, realising he was ingored.


    ¡°Do you know who I am, you barbaric-¡± The man gets cut off by a knife pointed at his face. A knife Rider recognises and tries to take back from Jared, even if weakly.


    ¡°Heeey! Give it! Gimme back my knife!¡±


    ¡°Clearly I fucking don¡¯t nor do i care. Doesn¡¯t matter though. You¡¯re a little too close to my-¡± He looks down at her, a softness in his eyes that quickly flees. ¡°-friend here. And since she¡¯s high off her gourd, I can¡¯t trust no pasty ass mutt-faced FUCK- to look after her.¡±


    A lot of the people near the table that overhear them seem surprised, even if some of them seem horrified, almost fearful about the verbal lashing the boy is having. He clearly doesn¡¯t care for it, and storms off, warily eying the knife still in Jared¡¯s hand.


    ¡°The fuck are all of you starin¡¯ at? Shit aint none of your business, go back to fucking the whores.¡± He growls out, shoving the knife into the table with a slam. They all look away, as he sits down.


    ¡°Why am I the fucking baby sitter? Where¡¯s the slave when you need her?¡±


    ¡°It''s ¡®cause you''re meanie and this is what you get!¡± Rider slurs to him before snapping back to her senses even if it was brief. ¡°How long¡¯s it been?¡± she groans out, pushing her fingers into her eyes, it''s the only thing that slowly stops the ache.


    ¡°What, since you became a brain dead retard? About a couple days. Let me get us a couple more drinks, and I¡¯ll tell you what happened between now and then.¡±

 Chapter 5.2 - Episode 8.2: A Hollow Victory

    ¡°Captain, there¡¯s been complaints. Not enough supplies are going round to the right people, and they¡¯re feeling angsty.¡±


    The captain looks up from his paperwork, eyes tired, and hair disheveled. Rubbing his eyes with sausage like fingers, his face falling into a frown almost akin to an English Bulldog. ¡°Right, right. We need a supply run.¡± Leaning back, he scratches at his beard, eyes closed as he thinks. ¡°Gather the men. We need to talk about locations.¡±


    The man before him nods, looking down at his captain with an almost envious look. With a light twitch of his eye, he turns and makes his way towards the barracks. Opening up the door to a bunch of lazy metromen spread across, each with different activities occupying their time. One looks up, almost hopefully.


    ¡°Alright boys, wake up. Captain says we need to get some supplies, we got everything the scouts from last week sorted?¡± He asks, looking at one of the metromen who were playing in a poker game over a barrel. A tanned fellow, with an easy grin waved at him.


    ¡°Yeah boss-man, all the mappings done, sent a few of my boys out two days ago too, so it''s recent shit.¡± With a nod, the man looks to the rest of the metromen.


    ¡°Alright then. Fifteen minutes everyone. Hurry it up!¡± He shouts, heading back towards the Captain¡¯s Office, but making a turn to the right near the end. A room filled with maps, files, and strings laid across a wall, and in the centerpiece a desk with even more papers.


    Heavy slow footsteps behind him indicates the Captain¡¯s arrival. ¡°There you are Jack. Good. Good.¡± Looking almost bewildered, the Captain studies the maps.


    ¡°Recently updated, with information from Leeroy¡¯s boys. They went out two days ago.¡± The Captain nods in response. His eyes slowly stop scanning the entire map, and focus on a few certain locations, slowly drifting between them.


    ¡°What''s with the new cross marks?¡± He says, picking up a stack of papers that have the same symbol that''s spread across the map on several buildings. Jack looks over his shoulder, curious too.


    ¡°Ah right. The new faction that you had Leeroy scope out, apparently there¡¯s more than one. Kingdom, in red crosses, a band of raiders, recently leashed by their own King apparently. Then the farmlands and Market, in blue. Peaceful guys.¡± The Captain hums in acknowledgement.


    ¡°The white ones?¡± Jack frowns.


    ¡°Not sure-¡± His eyes open wide slightly, remembering exactly what they¡¯re for. ¡°That''s everyone else. All the crosses are buildings they¡¯ve claimed a stake on. Though nobody actually cares for the white ones. Usually it just means it''s more dangerous to get supplies from, so the vultures are left to grab it.¡±


    ¡°Ah right, them.¡± He almost says with a sneer, remembering what a couple Vultures tried doing to the entrance of their sewer town.


    Grabbing a piece of bread from his pocket, he takes a bite as he goes back to studying the map. Ten minutes later and the exploration team, all 8 of them, are gathered in front of the Captain. A couple extra 6 metromen stand by as well, being the team that acts as a guard convoy rather than exploration, and extraction of material.


    ¡°Atten-hut!¡± Leeroy calls out, and all the men salute. ¡°Got the men all ready, Sir. Got a couple routes sorted out, just need to figure out which is best.¡± He says, pointing to a couple strings that lead out of the sewer town, which is represented with a shield on the map. The strings usually lead to areas circled with different symbols.


    The captain nods. ¡°Our main concern at the moment is medicine, scrap and military gear.. Food ain¡¯t too bad, only fit it in if you can on the way back. This means we¡¯ll need to switch between a  couple routes. While we have plenty of ammo stockpiled, our guns are breaking, and we need repairs or replacements. Then, we need medicine. People have been getting more sick, but it''s not a serious problem at the moment, and if we don¡¯t find any good stuff, we still have around a week before it is.¡±


    He points at two different spots, a couple of buildings marked with bullet symbols, and then a single larger building marked with a red plus. These are also marked with white crosses. ¡°Scrap will have to be a day three job. Our cars broke down, so we need to keep a lookout tomorrow as our engineers fix them, and the day after we can ride out all day looking for scrap.¡±


    ¡°Any questions?¡± Seeing no response, he nods. ¡°Alright men, let''s get moving.¡±


    -


    Getting out of the airlock with gas masks on wasn¡¯t that difficult, all things considered. Just time consuming. But given that the miasma would wreak havoc on them otherwise, Jack understood the need for security. As the second half of the team left the containment chamber, he finally nodded ahead to Jenny, who was on button duty. She looked at a screen hidden behind some foliage. It overlooked the street, and seeing it was clear, she pushed down.


    A loud clanging rang out, as the deadbolts quickly unlatched. Soon after, James, another metroman pushed the manhole cover out of its hole. ¡°Clear!¡±


    They all climbed out quickly one after the other, with practiced ease. The Captain being last, barely managing to slip through the gap. ¡°Alright, formations. Jack, you¡¯ve got Jessie, James and Jenny. Fawkes, Tammy and Michael, you¡¯re with me. Leeroy, you¡¯ve got Kyle, and the Mince twins. Rest of you, you¡¯re on your own squad. Ryan, you¡¯re leading that one.¡±


    With the teams set up in four groups of four, they all start marching forward, in a diamond shape of teams, each team set up as a diamond as well. Jack and the Captain on each side, Leeroy at the front and Ryan at the back.


    Hours later, they¡¯re out of the main deadzone, and stop by a police station, set up as a small checkpoint. ¡°Mask¡¯s off!¡± He calls out, and they take them off one by one, keeping an eye out. Soon, they¡¯re moving again towards a smaller town.


    They¡¯re all on edge, waiting for an ambush, a zombie, or any noise other than their own footsteps crunching against gravel, dirt or cracked pavement. But nothing comes. And soon their guard slowly lowers. They find themselves in front of a military checkpoint, a sign with a white cross marked on it further down the road. ¡°Ryan, Jack, take left side, Leeroy, with me.¡± The group splits into two, and they slowly comb through the checkpoint.


    Jack sighs, as he goes past another empty locker. Overlooking his team, he smiles at his idea being implemented perfectly. Two guards, two explorers, and four teams that have a main focus of guard and exploration leads. Him and the captain making up the main guard teams, and Leeroy with Ryan making the exploration teams. Redundancy, thy name was perfection.


    A noise alerts him, and he looks out the closest window. Ryan¡¯s team is outside, and by the looks on their faces, the building they were in is just as empty as Jack¡¯s. Looking towards the ashen wasteland, he frowns.


    ¡°Fucking military.¡± He looks to James looking out the same window. ¡°Waste of good buildings bombed.¡± He spits out onto the floor. ¡°And all for naught. Fuckers gave up halfway, and now we¡¯re stuck in the dumping ground of the world.¡±


    Looking at his leader, he sheepishly smiles. ¡°Sorry ¡®bout that Jack.¡± He rolls his eyes, not caring that much. Not like he didn¡¯t sympathize.


    Soon after, they were leaving, packing up what little guns and parts they could find, and heading towards the hospital. Jackson looks towards the horizon, towards the wall surrounding the entire state. It''s too far away to make it out properly, but 100 feet high and probably 100 feet thick, the wall was visible to the naked eye out here in the ashen wasteland. It always made him feel like a convict, a prisoner.


    Ironic, he used to be the one locking people up, then he beats the life out of one guy who touched his daughter and now he¡¯s in prison, leaving only because of the outbreak, and finding his daughter in even worse shape. His fists tighten at the memory, remembering her smile, and the undead face he had to shoot afterwards. He shakes his head, eyes scanning the sand.


    Movement.


    The sand shifted, unnaturally so, and he squinted his eyes. It was hard to make out through the gray dust, but that was definitely a zombie crawling out of the ground, a single hand outstretched as if reaching for God. Too bad for the poor sucker, God was nowhere here. He looked towards the Captain, scanning the other side, everyone else a little less on guard, and not noticing the zombie.


    Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original.


    Maybe this was his chance. Finally prove himself and get the Captain a retirement. Maybe then he¡¯d stop eating his feelings out on the job, and do something more useful. He looks back at the zombie, seeing more shifting around it.


    With his mind made up, he hurried the pace of his men along. Better they make it to the hospital first before the zombies do. Then swoop in and save their asses before the Captain can delegate it to someone else.


    The hospital itself was in many ways, a monument. Large, imposing, with vines crawling down the sides, and a history of what it used to be. A place of healing, later repurposed by the military as a base, but then turned into a graveyard. The barricades, the half eaten corpses and the smashed windows all pointed towards danger, yet this was their best chance at supplies.


    Everywhere else was running dry.


    Jackson had plans about self-sustaining themselves with more primitive but readily available medicine, only leaving the good stuff for when it was necessary. Too bad the Captain didn¡¯t think it was worth it, setting up a whole division just for that alone. Better to risk their asses outside rather than learn how to make medicine themselves.


    Looking up at the building, he noted the exits. Ground floor, three different entrances at the front, with a garage connecting to the basement, and a most likely nonfunctional elevator. Funnily enough, a zipline to another building, a large empty car-park with ruined scrap huts strewn all over.


    One of the guys at front whistled to him, shining a flashlight through a window. He approached, trying to see what James was pointing at. Keeping their voices low, they spoke.


    ¡°It¡¯s not a hive. Neither is the car-park. Closest one is the train station down that way.¡± James says, pointing beyond the hospital, towards a small entrance a couple blocks away. ¡°That means we get, what, an hour?- After we make some noise before they all come crawling out.¡±


    Jack nodded, pointing to the car-park. ¡°Secondary exit up there with a zipline. We find some sturdy rope or metal bars, we can go through there. Seems like an old base.¡± He turns to the Captain, waving him over, relaying the same information when he gets there.


    The Captain nods in response, and silently approaches, eyes darting left and right. Paranoid, but for the right reasons. ¡°Right. We¡¯ll have Ryan as the backup, and look-out. We¡¯ll clear rooms out squad by squad, till we get to the roof. Basement is a no go.¡± He says, looking at the ramp leading down into it from the outside.


    ¡°Ambulances down there, it''s a glorified car park and graveyard. We¡¯ll use the zip-line as a last resort. It''s old, so it''s likely to make noise. Understood?¡± The squad leaders nod in response. ¡°Alright, let''s move out.¡± Ryan pulls his squad to spread out slightly, keeping an eye on each other and the surroundings.


    Everyone else, heads inside, guns pointed forward, and their eyes scanning dutifully. This is where the hard part was, keeping calm while heading into an unknown location. While it wasn¡¯t a hive, there was always the risk of it being extremely well hidden, or stragglers staying behind that could alert the main hive.


    But everything was silent.


    Room by room, little was found, be it useful or dangerous to them. A single zombie, taken out by a scrap knife, and barely any medicine, let alone medikits. The silence may be comforting, but that same eerie quiet kept them on edge. The need to break the silence that broke other teams, but not them. Floor by floor, until they reached the fifth.


    Stopping at the stairwell doorway, waiting for the other two groups to catch up, Jack peered inside the hallway. A single shambler, plus a few bodies spread out, not damaged enough to be fully dead. He swore silently under his breath. Pointing at his team then through the window, they came to look with him.


    ¡°Shit.¡± James whispered. They couldn¡¯t risk taking out the loner, without the others possibly waking up. And once they did, they¡¯d stumble over the equipment all over the floor. ¡°Skip?¡± He asks, looking up the stairwell.


    ¡°Wait, Captain.¡± He says in short bursts, keeping as quiet as he can. James nods. Once all of them are up, they quickly converse, before deciding that the fifth floor was a bad idea, and they went up another floor.


    Step by step, eyes looking forward and to the side, constantly looking for corners where anyone could hide. One by one, they made it up. And then Leeroy looked up. A dozen eyes stared down back at him, beyond a broken staircase, several floors up. He stopped dead in his tracks, everyone behind him stopping too. Those in front stopped after hearing no footsteps behind them, and they turned around.


    They all looked up. The thing looked down at them. Jenny raised her gun quickly, and that movement only alerted it. It fell, five claws extended like guillotines, and they all fired at it. A giant mass of eyes, claws and armor, bullets plinking off it, until it crashed directly on top of Leeroy.


    ¡°LEEROY!¡± Someone shouted, but it didn¡¯t matter. The weight killed him, and now they had to kill whatever this thing was. One shot landed in its eye, and it roared, smashing a claw into another person, Tammy, who was flung onto the other side of the stairwell, tripping down a couple steps, and landing with a crack on her neck.


    ¡°MOVE AWAY FROM THE FREAK!¡± Jack shouted, firing a pistol directly into another eye, as he opened the sixth floor doorway, and let everyone on his side of the monster through as they rushed out. Everyone on the other side ran past Tammy to the fifth, the monster thrashing about uselessly, roaring in pain. A second later, it was jumping after the lower group, one of the Mince Twins getting crushed under its weight. ¡°NOOOOOOO!¡±


    And soon the second one was being held in its claw, after rushing at it. Her body bisected, and fell down the stairwell through the middle. Kyle being the only person in the fifth floor, he couldn¡¯t stop the beast from breaking through the door, while dealing with the now awake zombies rushing at him, and he was soon overwhelmed.


    They heard the crunching of bones and screaming grow silent, and everyone still alive did their best to bar the sixth floor. Pushing every piece of machinery, rubble and furniture they could. The Captain and Jack kept an eye out on the hallway, while Fawkes fumbled with the radio in his pack.


    ¡°Come in, Ryan, Come in.¡± He spoke into it with a rushed tone. Nothing but static in return. ¡°Shit.¡±


    ¡°If we get to a window we can figure out what''s going on down there. And warn them if they¡¯re still alive.¡± Jack said, knowing they were probably snuck up on by the horde in the ash. He should¡¯ve known everything would go to hell. And now he had to pay the price-


    CRASH!


    The door shuddered, a scream ringing out from behind, yet the barricade stood firm. ¡°Fuck, its quick. Everyone, head up the other stairwell, we¡¯re going to the roof.¡± They all nodded, except for Michael, who was on the floor, muttering quietly, holding himself.


    The Captain picked him up. ¡°Come on, Michael. You have to move on. You can¡¯t let her down now.¡± They looked in each other''s eyes, Michael searching for something, anything to push him forward. The Captain''s eyes were firm, yet understanding. ¡°We are going to make it. Don¡¯t fall now.¡± Michael nodded, stumbling away, towards the rest of the group, before running along with them.


    At the other stairwell, they started running up it, one by one, Jack keeping the door open and making sure they ran through. Someone was missing. He looked back, across the hallway, where the Captain stood, loading up his rifle with fresh bullets. One last glance at each other. They understood. And they nodded, as Jack ran up.


    All the while the door kept shuddering under the freak¡¯s weight and power. Jack didn¡¯t look back. He didn¡¯t expect him to live. And soon enough they were at the roof, quickly making handles for the zip-line. ¡°Let''s go, people!¡± Jack shouts, sparing one last glance at the floor, where a steady stream of zombies shambled into the hospital proper, covered in ash and dust, as well as a larger group further behind them.


    -


    ¡°The hospital was lost, and the Captain died in a valiant effort to save us all. We shall honor his memory, and remember him in his last moments. A hero.¡± He said, waving a toast to the group underground. A whole ceremonial funeral for those who were lost.


    It was only after the whole fiasco, did they find a military supply drop hung up in a tree by its parachute. Unopened, thankfully. And they had plenty of medical supplies to help themselves for a while.


    But the victory felt hollow.

 Chapter 5.2 - Episode 9.2: A Diamond In The Rough

    A large man tired and out of breath crawls forward out from under the body of a zombie. In his hands is a long sheet of jagged metal with cloth wrapped on its wide end. He grips it tight, a backwards grip. He''s beaten and bruised but by some miracle, not a scratch on him. His blade is covered in rotting bits of flesh and blood. He takes a moment to gather his thoughts, and before he could react he hurls a stream of rancid bile.


    ¡°Hohh fuck- me¡­¡± he had been running for an hour, all across the hospital popping heads wherever he could. The door to the roof was barricaded, he wanted to make sure his men made it safe without being chased. Using the sword as a cane he hobbles over to a corner, taking a quick breath, making sure to kill every freak in his way. He was weak, his legs burned and his back was about to snap.


    ¡°I¡­ I can''t¡­ I¡­¡± He tries to hold in a cough ¡°Fuck- No- No, I- I have to- I have to kill them all¡­ for my fallen men. Son of a bit-ch!¡± He coughs hard ¡°Will pay¡­¡± Every time the freak moves, its claws tap the tiled floors, its flesh scraping against itself and its horrid moans gurgling in pain.


    Night came quickly. The hospital was haunting, every clawmark, every decayed pile of moldy flesh and bones. He hid from the freak as much as he could, the room he found was large. A glass wall to the left, it was shattered, covered in blood and pieces of torn lab coats and gowns. The middle of the room was covered in torn metal, wires and soot. The ceiling had a painted skylight, there were webbings of flesh everywhere. Pens and other metallic tools impaled on the walls of the room. It was a massacre.


    ¡°This room- could that thing have caused this? Looks like an MRI room.¡± he staggers his way over to a computer, he presses the power button, but nothing happens ¡°Right, place has been out of power for years.¡± he looks around for a clipboard or anything that can give any information on who was here before the room went to hell. Only ones there were covered in moldy dried blood. None of it was readable. There was nothing that could help.


    ¡°But if that thing came from here¡­ It must''ve somehow melded with the MRI machine. And if there''s anything I know about it, it''s a super magnet. Gotta be something to that.¡± Before he could do anything else, there¡¯s thuds coming from outside the room. The freak bursts through the opposite wall, its malformed tendrils flailing wildly as it lets out a horrid guttural screech. The razor claws at the end of each limb slicing through the air, trapping the captain inside the glass room. He takes a closer look, studying it. The MRI machine was in fact there, it was like a mouth. Sharp jagged shards of large metal and bone line the circle, the bed was folded back, like a waterslide into a garbage disposal.


    The metal. It lined its body like quills. ¡°Son of a bitch!¡± He gulps hard ¡°I gotta turn it on somehow, give it power, but nothing here has that much juice!¡± Then he sees it. Out of the corner of his eye.


    A sticky note. ¡°Tell Mario to look at the generator room in the basement, there''s people saying there are rats in there. - T¡±


    The blades were inches away from the glass, the freaks eyes fixed onto him. He took a deep breath and ducked down, grabbing what''s left of a chair and throwing it at the freak. It was enough and with it distracted, he managed to run out. His legs felt like jelly, a stick that was about to snap inside of it. But he couldn¡¯t stop now. Just had to get down to the basement.


    Stumbling his way down, he slices an ash covered shambler right down the middle, to the collarbone. Mounting his automatic rifle in the gap made, he pushed the zombie, causing it to walk backwards as he held onto it with the sword stuck inside. Pulling the trigger, he keeps the recoil downwards, riddling another set of zombies till they¡¯re even more dead on the floor. Putting one foot on the zombie, he pulls out his blade, adding to the pool of black bile blood on the floor, even if a small amount.


    He looks around, watching out for the freak, following the signs near every door he bursts through, until he finds the sign that leads him to the generator room. But there was a problem. The door needed a passcode. And, its batteries had run out. There was no way to open the door. ¡°FUCK WHY! MOTHER FUCKER!!¡± He punches the door over and over until his fist starts to bleed. He rests on the door, sliding down to the floor. ¡°God- damn it!¡± he swipes the blood and sweat off his face with his arm. Tears streamed down his face. He coughs out hard, blood smearing the floor ahead of him.


    ¡°My body is about to fail me; my men made it out safe; I can''t avenge my fallen comrades.¡±


    He looks ahead of him. Shadows on the wall, they have a familiar feel to them. Then, they merge into a massive blob.


    ¡°No- if I''m gonna die here, I''m not gonna go out without a fight.¡± He stands up, reloading his gun, and readies himself. As soon as it turns the corner, he fires off his gun, popping one of its eyes, it thrashes around violently, grabbing equipment with its tendrils and swinging them around. He can''t get a clear shot, but the monster swings a tendril up smashing into the sky lamp, the glass shreds its rotten flesh as it rains down, he pops another eye, then two. It only had three left. ¡°Come on, you fat fuck! COME GET ME!¡±


    Half-blind, it thrashes violently, rolling its way towards him, the tendrils flail and he slices one off, it recoils in pain, bashing itself against the tight walls of the generator hall, the Captain jumps to the side of it, as it smashes through the door, crashing into the diesel generator. Taking this opportunity, the captain quickly scrambles up and runs for it, smashing the start button.


    For a few seconds a droning noise quickly increases in frequency, and the generator starts suddenly, and the machine-fused zombie crumples in on itself.


    His gun and sword fly out of his hands, as well as every metallic object in the room, and in its body slices and crushes it into paste. He runs back, getting launched forward by a blazing ball of explosive fire. His last sight is that of a wall meeting his face.


    -


    He wakes up, eyes frantically searching the room, and looking down at his arm, a massive gash with a large plastic shard lodged within it. Looking towards a window, he grimaces at his own features in the reflection. Bloodshot eyes, and a nose dripping with dark red liquid all the way down to his chin and neck, bruising all over.


    This story has been taken without authorization. Report any sightings.


    The constant ringing in his ears keeps his mind from forming a coherent thought, and his body refuses to respond. Even thinking about moving sends pain down his body, and he just wants to go home. But looking back at the window, he sees himself smiling despite everything else.


    His eyes flutter close, but quickly open up, what feels like hours having passed during that single blink. The captain reaches out, grabbing onto railings to hold himself up, almost screaming in pain but gritting his teeth to keep himself quiet. Slowly he drags himself up the long staircase. Tired, half dead and seconds from collapse, he moves one foot forward ahead of the other. Then the other, and he keeps going, his eyes soon focused on the door outside, leading to a roof.


    Breathing a sigh of relief, he collapses, eyes closing for just a second. And they open again, he¡¯s leaning against the edge of the roof, next to a zipline. The desk that had kept the door closed is smashed inwards. Lifting himself up using the zipline, he stares at the moon, the cold air bathing him with freshness. A stark contrast to the heat of the corpse infested hospital.


    Staring down the zipline''s path, he sees something glimmer in the moonlight. A metallic case wedged between a rock and the carpark wall, at the very bottom floor. ¡°Fuck me¡­¡± He whispers to himself. Going back was not an option, so grabbing the rope on the roof, and attaching it to a hook on the zipline, he clambered up on the ledge. Taking a deep breath he jumps forward.


    The air rushes past him, the wire creaking under his weight, and sparks flying as he¡¯s dragged by gravity towards hard gravel. Landing with a cry of pain, and a loud thud, he closes his eyes to rest.


    Awake again, he¡¯s crawling towards the entrance, past skeletons and broken wooden shacks of a long-gone settlement. Head back down, he keeps crawling, turning towards the rock he saw before, using the wall to pull himself back up. Looking down at himself, he¡¯s covered in more scrapes, dust and debris covering every wound. ¡°Fuuuck!¡± He groans, grabbing the case and falling back down on his ass after he tugs it. Looking over it again, it was too pristine and white to be something expired or useless.


    Opening it up however, he didn¡¯t expect to find a glass vial, filled with a pinkish clear liquid, that was easier to see against the black padding inside the case, but not helped by the darkness of the night. Taking it out, he stuffs it inside a pocket, and closes the case. It¡¯ll be a good weapon as any other. He needs to keep moving.


    Dragging himself up with another grunt of pain, he stumbles on forward, away from the hospital and the carpark. Buildings blur past him, the maze of the city dragging him further inside itself until he stops in front of a house. The roar of drums and engines hasten him to move forward, pushing the door open and falling behind a window. Something cracks and breaks, but he can¡¯t think, pain flashing throughout his entire body.


    He can only close his eyes and hope they ignore the house. But soon enough the cultists drums are fading, and he¡¯s standing in front of a sink, dark water flowing out of it. Growling in annoyance, he stumbles towards a fridge, ripping it open, and ignoring the mass of flies rushing past him. Using his good arm, he fumbles around, until grabbing onto a plastic bottle with clean water inside.


    Quickly he washes his wounds, all grime and detritus pushed out by hand and water, and him hissing in pain. Quickly grabbing a cloth he wraps it around his leg. Pushing away a skeleton by a dining table, he sits down, staring at the ceiling.


    He wakes up again, darkness surrounding him, and the sounds of drums getting louder. A small slit to his left reveals he¡¯s leaning against the inner wall of a wardrobe, looking into the same house. Two cultists pass by, arguing about why they have to search this house. An open door, a mistake he won''t make again, got their leader curious. They argue some more, only a few minutes before they¡¯re called back, one of them eyeing the wardrobe warily.


    ¡°Hurry it up, Father shouldn¡¯t be kept waiting.¡± The cultist scoffed in response, hurrying his pace out of the house. What seems like hours, but closer to half of one, passes and the captain crawls out, groaning in pain and looking at his wounds. The makeshift bandaging stayed on, thankfully, but whatever was now wrong with him, made it hard to make things out.


    So all he saw was a blurry mess as he stumbled out of the house, his sense of direction leading him to what he thought was back home. But the further he went, the more the buildings seemed to get smaller, and less frequent, until it was naught but dust and sand. And the incoming storm wasn¡¯t helping with that regard. Because as soon as he notices it, he¡¯s lost.


    Memories of his soldiers flash by within his head, the only thing keeping him from falling down and accepting his death, is the hope that some of them made it back alive. The hope that his sacrifice wasn¡¯t in vain. Nor the sacrifice of those left behind. And that he was going to make all those zombies pay. No matter what, he was going to wipe out that fucking hospital.


    And so, he kept stumbling, his body ignoring the pain, and eventually he was now walking. Glaring directly into the storm, his vision seemed to clear up. The sounds of groaning filled his brain, to the left, right and all around him. He was surrounded, and soon he saw them. Almost brushing against him within the storm. His hands twitched for a weapon that was no longer there. So far they seemed to ignore him, but he had to keep moving before they took notice.


    And unfortunately, like everything else going to shit, one of them grabbed at him. He was able to move out of the way, but that just alerted the rest of the horde. They all turned to him, hunger in their voices. But within that cacophony of gluttony, he heard a thump. Not a footstep, but of something falling, being dropped or thrown. And a hiss that seemed to pacify the zombies quickly.


    The storm was now clearing up, and in front of him, stood a figure in black. A steel ball canister by his feet releasing a noxious looking purple gas that seemed to seep into the undead. And he was pointing his arm out, a single covered finger extended to his right. The captain turned, and saw nothing but more storm, but also an open path between the zombies. And so he took the opening, trying to keep his breathing still, as to not inhale whatever gas was pacifying the corpses.


    Only minutes later, did he find himself lost again, and once again, the figure in black appeared before him, pointing somewhere else.  On and on he walked. And each time the figure would appear, like a guardian angel, pointing him towards salvation. Until he stopped. The smell of miasma filled his nostrils, and he turned to run. Falling over, his weight dragged him to the ground instantly. And so he crawled, as fast as he could. But the miasma seemed to cling to him, every inch he moved, it felt like the miasma covered several feet.


    But he had to get out. He had to come back home. He had to-